Discourses on Various Subjects, Vol. 1 (of 2)

Part 11

Chapter 114,046 wordsPublic domain

No man, in his present deplorable state, can open that eye which was blinded by sin; nor unstop that ear which was sealed by his apostasy from his Maker; nor save or deliver himself from the bondage of corruption. Herein, therefore, is the UNIVERSAL LOVE OF GOD made manifest, that "he hath laid help upon one that is Mighty, who is able to save to the uttermost those that come to him;" that he hath appointed and prepared a "Seed that can bruise the serpent's head;" that he hath caused his Light to shine in the Hearts of all men; and hath called all men every where to repent--Now if man still continues to shut his eyes, and harden his heart, and refuse to be reconciled, "his destruction is of himself, and GOD will be just when he judgeth."

But here the grand question may be asked--How doth GOD manifest himself to his creatures? There is no Revelation in these days--no spiritual visions now.--no such Sight of GOD, as Abraham, Moses, the Prophets, and the Primitive Christians were favoured with--GOD forbid!--for surely where there is no vision, no sight or sense of heavenly things, there is the Lost State indeed!--where there is no Revelation, there can be no True Knowledge of GOD-for what saith the Scripture--"None knoweth the Father but the Son, and he to whom the SON will reveal him?"

Ever since the vail was spread over the human heart, there never was any other way in any age, nor can there be in this age, of coming to the true Knowledge of GOD, but by Revelation; that is, by taking off the vail, and removing the covering that hides the Face of GOD from man.--Men "have sought out many inventions," and devised many ways and means of coming to the knowledge of the Deity; moral and even mathematical demonstrations of his existence, have been attempted; but all in vain. As such inventions and devices have increased, sorrow and perplexity have increased also: and even if they have succeeded so far, as to satisfy the natural understanding, what is it, at best, but a kind of historical knowledge, a strong conceit or imagination of something concerning GOD, without any thing like a sensibility of his Presence, or an intuitive self-evident conviction of his nature and attributes?--Far different this from the knowledge which Job experienced, and which every real Christian may express in his language: "I have heard of thee by the hearing of the ear; but now hath mine eye seen thee: therefore I abhor myself, and repent in dust and ashes."

It is not improbable, but Job might have amused himself, like some of our modern philosophizing Christians, with fine-spun theories and speculations upon the nature and attributes of the DIVINITY; and whilst the tide of temporal prosperity continued to flow in upon him, whilst "he washed his steps in butter, and the rock poured out for him rivers of oil," whilst his health continued unimpaired, and his domestic bliss uninterrupted, such empty researches might have been sufficient to entertain his imagination; and such an outward knowledge of the MOST HIGH, might satisfy a soul, that was yet insensible of any spiritual or temporal wants or distresses. But let the hand of GOD fall heavy upon him; let his body be visited with pain and sickness, and his soul wounded with grief and disappointment; let him be stripped of all his worldly affluence, and deprived of all his domestic comforts; and he will soon find, that the wants of nature, when deeply felt, are not to be supplied by reasoning and speculation; that an outward hearsay knowledge of GOD is of no avail; that it cannot administer the least relief either to the body or the mind; that it cannot sooth or mitigate one bodily pain, or send one ray of light into the dark and comfortless regions of the soul.

Go to the chambers of sickness, visit the melancholy retreats of indigence and woe! produce there your strong reasonings--strive, with learned labour, to open and convince the understandings of your suffering brethren--enumerate to them all the outward evidences, that you can collect, of the great truths of religion--give them proof upon proof, demonstration upon demonstration--talk to them of the Nature and Attributes of GOD, and the immortality of their souls--tell them what the SON OF GOD hath done and suffered for sinners; what are the means of reconciliation, and what the sure grounds of an happy death--give them all that they can receive "by the hearing of the ear"--and what have you done, and what have they gained?--Why you have done just as much as an unskilful physician would do, who entertained his patient with a learned dissertation upon the virtues and excellencies of a certain medicine, which he had somewhere read or heard of, as admirably adapted to the disorder, but which he had never seen with his eyes, and of the nature of which he knew nothing by his own experience. Thus it is with this outward knowledge of GOD: the poor soul is left to feed upon words or ideas, and to seek comfort, in vain, in empty speculations.

Fruitless, indeed, are such attempts as these! Till the soul is shaken to her very center, till the stone is removed from the door of the sepulchre, that GOD who "makes darkness his secret place," can never be seen. The eye must be turned inwardly, to view what is passing in the inmost soul, to discover what its wants and necessities are, as well as what will supply them, and yield it peace, and yield it happiness, from an inexhaustible source. It must feel its own darkness, before it can seek to have it enlightened--The same Light that breaks in upon it like the dawn of day, gives it the first sensibility of distress, as well as the first sensibility of consolation "now hath mine eye seen thee, therefore I abhor myself, and repent in dust and ashes"--I now feel the misery of nature without GOD--I feel nothing but darkness, and want, and hunger, and thirst! But in this darkness, under this want, in this hunger and thirst, the soul must wait, without reasoning, without repining, in stillness, in silence, till the invisible GOD shines into the darkness, and till the darkness comprehends and eagerly imbibes the Light, and he, in whom is no darkness at all, manifesteth his Presence by a self-evident sensibility.

Thus it is, that man, by virtue of the Redeeming Power of the Second Adam, implanted in his heart as a spark of Heavenly flame, hidden under the flesh and blood of fallen nature, is revived, quickened, and enlightened. The Heavenly Birth soon perceives and owns its parent--the outward knowledge gives way to the inward manifestation--and GOD, and Heaven, and Goodness, and Grace, are seen and known, and felt by their own incontestible workings in the human Heart. Hence, the fruits of the SPIRIT, the fruits of Heaven, begin to bud and blossom: "love, joy, peace, long-suffering, gentleness, goodness, faith, meekness," are felt and practised; and the soul lives and breathes in the Heavenly world, even whilst she inherits this frail tenement of clay.

And now, my brethren, is not such a Knowledge of GOD worth possessing? A Knowledge, that unites you to him; makes you One Heart and Spirit with him; gives the highest relish to all the joys, and the firmest support under all the evils of life; which will stand by you, when every outward comfort fails, when relations, friends, wealth, power, and all that earth is able to supply, can no longer yield you the least support or satisfaction.

Some of the great obstacles and impediments to the attainment of this Knowledge, I shall enumerate in my next discourse.

DISCOURSE XVII. The true Knowledge of God internal and practical.

JOB, CHAP. xlii. VER. 5, 6.

"I HAVE HEARD OF THEE BY THE HEARING OF THE EAR; BUT NOW HATH MINE EYE SEEN THEE: THEREFORE I ABHOR MYSELF, AND REPENNT IN DUST AND ASHES."

In a former discourse from these words, I explained to you the difference between that Knowledge of GOD which is obtained by "the hearing of the ear," and that which arises in the human heart, from a spiritual sensibility of his Presence and Power within us. I observed, that the former was, at best, but a kind of historical knowledge, or, perhaps, nothing more than a strong conceit or imagination of something concerning GOD; far different from that intuitive, self-evident, saving Knowledge of him, which Job speaks of in the text, and which every truly pious foul cannot but feel. I endeavoured, likewise, to point out the Rise and Progress of this Knowledge, as well as the blessed Fruits or Effects of which it is certainly productive. I then concluded with asking you, whether such a Knowledge of GOD as I had been describing, was not worth your possessing? A knowledge, that would unite you to him, make you One Spirit, One Will, One Nature, with your heavenly Father--that would give the highest relish to all the joys, and support you under all the evils of life; that will stand by you, when every outward comfort fails, when friends, and relations, and wealth, and power, and all that earth is able to supply, can no longer yield you the least support or satisfaction.

Convinced, as I think you must needs be, of the infinite value of such a possession as this, I would now ask you, what it is that keeps you from desiring and seeking to obtain it. Your answer, if you knew yourselves, would be, that you did not at present feel the want of it.--This state of insensibility, therefore, to "the things that belong to your peace," must arise from certain obstacles and impediments, which, agreeable to my promise, I now proceed to enumerate.

We are told, that the famous Selden, on his death-bed, sent for archbishop Usher, and, in the course of a most serious and affecting conversation, assured him, that he had accurately surveyed almost every part of literature and science, that was held in the highest esteem by the sons of men; that he had a study filled with the most valuable books and manuscripts in the world; and yet, that, at that time, he could not recollect one single passage out of any volume in this large collection, upon which he could rest his soul, or from which he could derive one ray of consolation, except some that he had met with in the Holy Scriptures; and that the most remarkable passage that then made the deepest impression upon his mind, was this: "For the GRACE OF GOD that bringeth Salvation, hath appeared unto all men, teaching us, that denying ungodliness, and worldly lusts, we should live soberly, righteously, and godly, in this present world; looking for that blessed hope, and the glorious appearance of the great GOD, and our Saviour JESUS CHRIST."

"The GRACE OF GOD," indeed, "hath appeared unto all men." One of the principal impediments to their sight of this Grace, is what poor Selden complained of, viz. a looking for it in the writings of human reason, and expecting to find it by the same learned labour with which we investigate some mathematical or logical truth. Selden, with all his learning, therefore, was obliged to seek for a True Knowledge of GOD, in the volume of his own heart; and, agreeable to the direction of an outward revelation, to look for the appearance of that Grace which it promised, in a place, which his genius had not yet explored, and which could never have been revealed to his outward eye. He had, no doubt, "heard of GOD by the hearing of the ear," and could have accurately demonstrated his existence and attributes--but, till that blessed moment, "his eye had never seen him."

Thus, all those fine literary accomplishments, which feed the pride of the scholar, (though, when properly applied, they have their uses, and great uses too) must, nevertheless, be sacrificed, when they prove, as they frequently do, very great impodiments to a spiritual knowledge of GOD. The most towering genius upon earth, can never gain admittance into the Kingdom of Heaven, till he condescends to the simplicity of a child, and with faith and humility opens his heart to his Heavenly Father for that true wisdom, which can only come by immediate revelation from him.

But the "wisdom of this world," or "science falsely so called," is not the only impediment to our spiritual sight of GOD. There are many, who, under a specious pretence of making a proper and honourable provision for their families, involve themselves so deeply in business, as it is called, that they will not allow themselves a single moment to attend to the concerns of another world. And were we to enquire the reason of this strange conduct, they might very properly make us the same answer, which the Duke of Alva made to King Henry IV. upon another occasion: Did you observe, my Lord Duke, said the Monarch, the great eclipse of the sun, that lately happened?--No, may it please your Majesty, replied the Duke--I have so much business to do on earth, that I have no leisure to look up to heaven. In truth, my brethren, your mere men of business, and a trading city like ours abounds with temptations to this kind of life; I say, your mere men of business, either forget, in the hurry of affairs, that their souls are immortal, and ought therefore to be fed and attended to at least as much as their bodies; or else, to quiet their consciences, they reason themselves into a belief that their souls may die with their bodies, and therefore all thought or concern about religious matters, is useless, and will only interrupt their worldly pursuits.

Success in trade introduces wealth, and, with it, its never-failing attendant, luxury. From this fatal source proceed a thousand impediments to a religious life, that are more readily felt than enumerated. Hence an amazing increase of expence, with an increasing taste for high living, sumptuous apparel, and splendid entertainments. By an immoderate attention to these, the minds of men are gradually weaned from those good impressions, which they have received in their earlier years, from sober, frugal, and industrious parents.--The peasant treads close upon the heels of the courtier; and such is the reigning fondness for what is called fashionable life, that people of the most affluent circumstances, and who move in the highest sphere, are scarcely to be distinguished from those of the most scanty fortunes; and even indigence itself puts in its claim for a share of the outward glitter.--And it were well, if the evil proceeded no further than this.

But if things should come to such a pass, that Religion itself, nay, even the very appearances of it, should be deemed unfashionable; if people should be afraid to come to the house of GOD, lest they should have their taste called in question, lest they should be suspected by their gay and worldly friends, of entertaining one serious thought about another world, about GOD and their own souls; if the Sabbath, instead of being wholly dedicated to, and spent in the service of, that GOD by whom it was instituted, should be either lolled away in indolence, or spent in posting of books, settling of accounts at home, or devoted to entertainments and parties of pleasure abroad; if such should be the consequences of an immoderate pursuit of business, and an inordinate fondness for a fashionable life, would you not conclude, that these were surely the greatest and most dangerous impediments to a true and saving knowledge of GOD? If these evils have not appeared in such a degree, as I have described them, I think, at least, they are not far from it; and I begin to fear, that the time is approaching, when many amongst us will be so far from "seeing GOD," as Job expresses it, "with their eyes," that they will not even "hear of him by the hearing of the ear." For believe me, my brethren, we cannot know GOD, we cannot even desire to know him, whilst our whole hearts and minds are engaged in the things of the world, whilst we turn, with all the eagerness of desire, to the senseless pageantry and pleasures of a vain and trifling age.

Shall I spare myself the pain of telling, what ought not to be an offence to you to hear?--or will you give me leave to point out to you, in plainer terms, what I apprehend to be your principal impediments to such a view of the Divine Majesty, as would lead you to "abhor yourselves, and repent in dust and ashes."

It cannot be denied, that luxury, extravagance, and dissipation of every kind, have, within these few years, made a most rapid progress amongst us.--Your ministers have long, perhaps too long, been silent upon these subjects.--But though preventive medicines are sometimes given with success, yet the symptoms of a disorder, as they appear in its process, are what must principally direct the application. What they have now to say, comes to you with this corroborating circumstance in its support, that we speak not from what we have apprehended might be, but from what we have seen hath actually come to pass.

We have observed, with real heart-felt concern, a general proneness to pleasure, and a general indifference to the very forms of religion.--Our discourses, though without particular applications, have been adapted, as far as we were able to judge, to the circumstances of the people whom we addressed.--We have not, however, been unconcerned spectators of your conduct. We have observed, with what eagerness many of you have crouded to scenes of amusement and dissipation, and what backwardness you have shewn in attending the publick worship of GOD. Even the man of business could devote many hours in the week, to the calls of worldly pleasure, whilst he refused to give one to the calls of GOD upon his own Sabbath.

Matters are, indeed, too serious to be passed by in silence. We are your ministers, we are your servants; we should not be faithful to you, nor to ourselves, were we to neglect giving you the alarm, when we saw, or even apprehended, that you were in imminent danger. The enemy hath already entered your houses--he hath entered your hearts! Under the specious disguise and appellation of innocent amusements, he is secretly drawing off your hearts from GOD, and carrying you away captive at his will--Use not, I beseech you, the word innocent, in vindicating your pleasures--Nothing can be innocent, let it be ever so seemingly trifling, that wholly engrosses the mind, and takes it off from attending to the great concerns of Salvation. Amusements, though they may be innocent at first, become more or less criminal, as they have a greater or less tendency to wean the heart from GOD. Upon this maxim, I leave it to your own experience to determine, what particular kind of amusements has had the greatest tendency to effect this in you.

Far be it from me, to declaim, with an affected pharisaical severity, against innocent recreations of any kind. But, Gracious GOD! can a Christian complain of want of amusements, that has a family round him; that has a dear child, or children, to educate; that has brothers, or sisters, or relations, or friends; with whom he can live in a most sweet and delightful intercourse of endearing offices? What a strange perversion of nature, sense, and reason, to take delight in going abroad, to have our affections excited by imaginary objects and romantic representations, when we have so many real ones at home, in the course of every day, and in the way of our duty, to call forth and promote their best and highest exercise? I do not descend to particulars--let these few hints suffice.--I have delivered them in love--in love, I hope, they will be received.

Permit me, however, once more to repeat--that it is this immoderate fondness for pleasure and dissipation, that keeps you from feeling the real wants of your nature, and, consequently, from applying to the true and only Source, from whence they can be fully satisfied. But this deception cannot last long; false happiness has no sure foundation; it must, therefore, totter and fall at last. You will not always be as gay, as healthy, and as prosperous, as you are now.--The vigour of the best constitution cannot long preserve you from sickness, and from death.--Neither the abundance of wealth, nor the increase of power, nor the support of popularity, can long protect you from disappointment and distress. You may think as lightly as you please of religious duties now; but, depend upon it, the hour is at hand, when every little neglect of them, every little preference you have given to the solicitations of pleasure, will wound you to the very heart. You will then be convinced of the danger of trifling with that immortal spirit that is within you; and deeply regret, that you have been so far from having "seen GOD," spiritually manifested in your hearts, that you have scarcely "heard of him by the hearing of the ear."

I cannot dismiss you, without one observation more. Hypocrisy, and a pharisaical righteousness, are as great, and perhaps greater impediments to the true Knowledge of GOD, than any of those I have already mentioned. The root is deeper, the evil more difficult to be eradicated.

Should any of you, therefore, have been solacing yourselves with the view of your own fancied virtues, and thanking GOD, that you have not, like others, been running after this or the other new and fashionable amusement, but have kept yourselves strictly within the pale of outward duties; I beseech you not to be too liberal of your censures, nor too forward in prying into the conduct of your neighbours; but to look at home with a jealous and watchful eye, to examine your own hearts, and see, that whilst ye are "paying tithe of mint, and annise, and cummin," ye do not "neglect the weightier matters of the law, mercy, justice, forbearance, and charity." Whilst ye have "heard of GOD by the hearing of the ear," your eyes, perhaps, may not yet have seen him; whilst you are abhorring and standing aloof from your brethren, as if ye were holier than they, ye do not "abhor yourselves, and repent in dust and ashes." Remember, that a censorious spirit, and a disposition to think and speak evil of others, is as foreign to the Spirit of Christianity, as any other evil temper or disposition can be.

To conclude: A true Christian will lament the general decline of Religion, and wish and pray for better times, without being angry, or shewing any marks of unkindness to his brethren. Yea, so far from keeping himself at a distance, he will mingle, as occasion or duty calls, with men of every class. He will be religious without severity, and chearful without dissipation; he will instruct without seeming to dictate, and reprove with such mildness, that his very censures shall be received as the highest tokens of his love.

In this sweet Spirit of the Gospel of JESUS, Heaven grant that we may mutually receive and impart such truths, as "belong to our peace," both here and hereafter!

DISCOURSE XVIII. On the Nativity of Christ.

St. LUKE, CHAP. ii. from VER. 6 to 20.

"AND SO IT WAS, THAT WHILE THEY WERE THERE, THE DAYS WERE ACCOMPLISHED, THAT SHE SHOULD BE DELIVERED," &c.

In the first chapter of his Gospel, the Evangelist has given a particular account of the conception and birth of John the Baptist, the Salutation of the BLESSED VIRGIN, and her miraculous conception of the HOLY JESUS. According to a regular series of historical facts, this second chapter opens with a like circumstantial narrative of the nativity of our BLESSED REDEEMER.