Sermons on the Scriptural Principles of our Protestant Church

Part 3

Chapter 34,204 wordsPublic domain

(2) We have here referred to outward actions, let us now trace the stream up to its source, and look at the inward state of heart, or as it is sometimes called “habitual righteousness.” Can this justify? We all know what an inward change is wrought by the Holy Ghost in those who are truly born of God. Their whole heart and mind and will are changed. They love that they once despised, they long for that which they once scorned, they walk with Jesus, whereas before they were the slaves of sin. To recur to the simile employed before, as heat is diffused through iron, so a new love, a new righteousness is spread through the soul. But yet it cannot justify, for it is not perfect. It is sufficient to please, but it is defective still. There may be great heat spread through the iron, while still the metal retains its substance. The ice may be melted, and the water retain the winter’s chill. Just so it is with the righteousness planted in us by the Holy Ghost. There is a new warmth, but the nature retains too much of its iron hardness: there is a melting of the soul, but the winter’s chill is still found in the melted spirit. This is the meaning of our article when it says “The infection of nature doth remain yea in them that are regenerate,” and this remaining corruption destroys at once all hope of justification through the righteousness of the heart. Take one or two examples from the Scriptures. There can be no doubt of the inward righteousness of David. He was “the sweet psalmist of Israel,” “the man after God’s own heart.” If the Holy Ghost ever gave the new life to any man it was to David. But was David’s inward righteousness such that he was justified? Listen to his own prayer, Ps. cxliii. 2, “Enter not into judgment with thy servant; for in thy sight shall no man living be justified.” There can be no doubt of the change of heart in Peter. The ardour of his noble mind was nobly consecrated to Christ. But was Peter justified by his inward righteousness? See how it failed. One wave of strong temptation broke down his faith, and for the time chilled his love: so that on one evening even Peter was thrice guilty of the denial of his Lord. Could Peter then be justified by his inward love? There can be no doubt of the inward righteousness of Paul. He was God’s chosen vessel to bear his name among the Gentiles. His whole life bore witness to the constraining power of the love of Jesus. But was he justified by that inward love? Listen to his own affecting language, Rom. vii. 22–24, “For I delight in the law of God after the inward man: But I see another law in my members warring against the law of my mind, and bringing me into captivity to the law of sin which is in my members. O wretched man that I am! who shall deliver me from the body of this death?”

Or refer the matter to your own personal experience. It is a case that requires no farfetched arguments. There are multitudes amongst you, I am well persuaded, in whom the Holy Ghost has wrought this sanctifying change. It is your joy, your delight, your chief desire to walk with God. And now we would appeal to you. Are you walking with God so perfectly that by that righteousness you can be justified? Has there been no neglect, no languor, no forgetfulness, no sloth in his service? Has the whole life been like the vigorous, active, cheerful, service of the angels around the throne? Or, to go farther: is there any one hour that you have passed from the moment of your new birth till now, upon the perfect holiness of which you would dare to stake your salvation throughout eternity? Select the time of greatest spiritual enjoyment, the happy season when your soul glowed most fervently with the love of Jesus; when Heaven seemed the nearest, and God rose before you as the loveliest of the lovely; and decide whether you can truly say “For that time at least I did fully, completely, and without defect, rise to the measure of the perfect will of God.” How then can Rome declare that we are justified by the righteousness within us? How can she presume to curse those who differ from her sentence? How can she say “If any man say, that we are justified by the sole imputation of Christ’s righteousness, or by the sole remission of our sins, and not by an inherent grace diffused in our hearts by the Holy Ghost; let him be anathema?” Who is there either in Rome or England that can have any hope, but in free, simple, unfettered mercy—that can have any plea before the throne of God but that of the poor publican, who said “Lord be merciful to me a sinner?” {30}

And this leads us, thirdly, to remark

III. That the imputed righteousness of Christ is of itself perfect and sufficient. This is plainly the truth denied in the decree above quoted. Justification is there ascribed in part to the imputation of Christ’s righteousness, but this alone is said to be insufficient. The article of our church and this decree have evident reference to each other. The article says “We are accounted righteous before God _only_ for the merit of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ.” The Council of Trent “If any man shall say that men are justified by the _sole_ imputation of Christ’s righteousness, let him be accursed.” The turning point, therefore, of the whole question is the _complete_ sufficiency of the work of Christ.

1. Consider, then, his atonement. {31} “He died, the just for the unjust, to bring us to God.” He was our substitute, he took our place, he endured the curse of our guilt, “he bare our sins in his own body on the tree.” Was the price sufficient, or was it not? Was the substitute accepted, or was it not? Was the law satisfied, or was it not? If it was, the atonement was complete, the believer free, and no further justification through righteousness can be required. If not, of this one thing I am persuaded, that nothing we can do can supply the deficiency of the work of Jesus. No tears, no toils, no fastings, penances, or alms deeds can supply that which is lacking in the price paid for the sinner. If we were to weep till the ocean overflowed with the swelling tide of penitential tears, it would avail less than one single drop of the most precious blood of God’s well beloved Son. If we were to lacerate the body with fastings and self-inflicted sufferings, till the very life sunk under the penance, it would procure no gift that is not already purchased, it could satisfy no law that is not already satisfied by the life of Jesus.

2. Consider also the imputed righteousness of Christ. He made himself one of us, and became our substitute on the cross. As our representative, He bore our sins in his own body, and as our representative He is now at the right hand of God. God punished our sins in Him upon the cross. God accepts us in Him as his ransomed people. Our sins were placed to his account, and his righteousness to ours. This explains 2 Cor. v. 21, “For he hath made him to be sin for us who knew no sin, that we might be made the righteousness of God in him.” He was not made really sinful, but sin was imputed to him; he was reckoned as a sinner; he bore the sinner’s curse. But we are made the righteousness of God in the same sense in which he was made sin; that is, righteousness is imputed to us, we are reckoned righteous, we are made heirs of the Redeemer’s glory. Now this righteousness is indeed a justifying righteousness: it is the righteousness of Christ, the righteousness of God, perfect in every thought, perfect from eternity. For ever, and for ever, has he been one with God, and never for one single moment, has one single tainted thought dared to intrude on the heavenly holiness of his most holy soul. Now if this righteousness be imputed to us, what can ours add to it? If we be justified by Christ’s merit, how is it possible that we should be any longer justified by our own? Can ours add to his? Can it supply any defects in his? Can we make up a patchwork righteousness, partly his, and partly ours? The very holiest act of the very holiest of men would be like a spot upon the sun, a stain and blemish to the perfect brilliancy of the holiness of Jesus.

Now that is the justifying righteousness of the believer. In Christ we stand, in Christ we are accepted, in Christ the law is satisfied, in Christ we are free from the curse, in Christ we have peace with God—so in Christ, and in Christ alone, must the true believer look for life.

Away, then, with all false thoughts of human merit; away with the deadly heresy that man by inherent excellence can recommend himself to God; away with the self-exalting notion that any man, at any time, can stand in any other attitude than that of a convicted sinner, freely pardoned through the blood of the Lamb. We will strive to please him, we will press on along the path of life, we will spare nothing that we may walk with God. We will long for the day when Christ’s image shall be formed in perfection within the soul. But, meanwhile, we will rest on his atonement, on his righteousness alone: and though worldly men may count it folly, though self-righteous men may deem it frenzy, though Rome may hurl against us the thunder of her anathemas, we will believe, and believe to our everlasting peace and joy, that “God hath made him to be sin for us”; and that by that one act, without the smallest human merit, “We are made the righteousness of God in him.”

SERMON III. PURGATORY.

LUKE xxiii. 43.

And Jesus said unto him, Verily I say unto thee, To day shalt thou be with me in paradise.

HAVE you ever stood by the bedside of a dying believer? ever watched the decaying strength of some dear object of your fondest love? Then you know the deep emotions of that solemn moment, when, in the stillness of the chamber of death, the heavy breathing ceases, and the happy spirit wings its flight to God. What conflicting feelings then struggle for mastery in the heart! Faith, joy, doubt, and sorrow, seem in turn to take possession of the soul: nay, rather! they all reign there at once: we mourn in widowhood, but acquiesce in faith: we look on our own life as desolate through separation; but, thinking on the present glory of the departed, we cannot withhold a glad Amen from Cowper’s lines upon his mother.

But oh! the thought that thou art safe and he! That thought is joy, arise what may to me.

Yes it is a joy! a mournful joy, but a joy unutterable; a joy that draws from the same eye tears of rejoicing, and tears of grief; a joy which, strange to say, melts us into sadness, while it gives a calm, holy, peaceful satisfaction from the full and complete assurance that those we love most are for ever safe with Jesus. This joy is the birthright of God’s faithful children; and this the balm with which in our funeral service, we strive to staunch the mourner’s tears. Who that has ever wept beside the open grave can fail to remember those hallowed words: “I heard a voice from heaven saying unto me, Write, from henceforth, blessed are the dead which die in the Lord, even so saith the Spirit, for they rest from their labours”?

But the Church of Rome, at one fatal blow, robs us of all this; and in the Catechism of the Council of Trent, declares, {35a} “Besides (hell,) there is a fire of purgatory, in which the souls of the pious being tormented for a definite time, expiate their sin, that so an entrance may be opened to them, into the eternal country, into which nothing defiled can enter.”

You will here observe four things.

1. That the souls in purgatory are under torture. “Cruciatæ.”

2. That this torture is by fire. {35b}

3. That the persons suffering it are not the wicked, but the pious, i.e. believers, God’s dear children, those to whom Christ would say, “Depart in peace, thy faith hath saved thee.”

4. That the purpose of it is to expiate sin, or make an atonement for transgression before they can be admitted to eternal glory.

So that if we are to believe Rome, we must abandon all our bright hopes for our dear departed brethren. Our mothers, and fathers, and fond friends, who have stuck closer to us than a brother, holy believers, who full of faith, fell asleep in Jesus, are at this present moment, writhing and gnashing their teeth, in the fierce agony of scorching heat; yet glad even of the flame to hide them from the displeasure of that Saviour whom they once delighted to trust and love.

Having thus stated the doctrine, I am well persuaded I might here safely leave it. But it forms one of the bulwarks of the Romish system, and is one of the great sources of Roman wealth. {36a} The parish priests are ordered by their church frequently and diligently to discourse on it. {36b} Let us examine then how the matter stands in the word of God.

I. And 1st, we would remark that there is not a shadow of foundation for it in the Bible. We read of hell, and we read of heaven; we read plainly, “That where the tree falleth there shall it lie.” But of purgatory not a word is to be found.

There are, however, two texts generally quoted to which it may be well briefly to refer.

The first is, 1 Cor. iii. 12–15. “Now if any man build upon this foundation gold, silver, precious stones, wood, hay, stubble; every man’s work shall be made manifest: for the day shall declare it, because it shall be revealed by fire; and the tire shall try every man’s work of what sort it is. If any man’s work abide which he hath built thereupon, he shall receive a reward. If any man’s work shall be burned, he shall suffer loss: but he himself shall be saved; yet so as by fire.”

One glance is enough to shew that these words have no connection with the subject. The apostle is speaking of the ministry, and compares the ministers who followed him at Corinth to builders raising a temple on the foundation he himself had laid. The temple then is the visible Church; the material, the professing members of it: some of whom, like gold, silver, and precious stones, are shining as true believers to the glory of their Saviour: others, like wood, hay, and stubble, are worthless professors, fit only to be burned. The day of revealing fire refers either to the day of judgment, or the great fearful conflict with the enemy, described by St. Peter as “the fiery trial which is to try you.” {37} The effect will be to separate the tares from the wheat; the precious from the vile; the false from the true; the gold, silver, and precious stones, from the wood, hay, and stubble; and so to reveal the character of the work. There is no allusion then to purgatory. The fire of purgatory is to make expiation for the sins of believers; the day of fire here described is to try the Church and reveal its character.

If possible the other passage has still less bearing on the subject. It is, 1 Pet. iii. 18–20.

“Being put to death in the flesh, but quickened in the spirit: by the which also he went and preached unto the spirits in prison: which sometimes were disobedient, when once the longsuffering of God waited in the days of Noah, while the ark was a preparing, wherein few, that is, eight souls were saved by water.” This is said to prove that our blessed Lord preached to the spirits in purgatory at his burial. But it does nothing of the kind. Those that had sinned against Noah’s preaching were guilty of disobedience and unbelief. They, therefore, the Church of Rome itself being witness, were not in purgatory but in hell. The true meaning of the text is this: Christ was raised up by the divine power of the Holy Ghost, by which as the eternal God, he preached even in the time of Noah to those wicked persons, who having then rejected him, are now fast bound in the miseries of hell. He preached then, not at the time of the crucifixion, but, as the pre-existent God, at the time of Noah: and preached not to dead souls, but to living men. These two texts are the pillars on which Purgatory rests. They remind us of the two pillars on which stood the house of Dagon. God grant that they may not be equally destructive to the thousands of souls who rest on them!

There is therefore no support for the doctrine; let us now proceed to show,

II. That it is in direct contradiction to the word of God.

There are many passages to which we should feel great joy in now referring, where the present blessedness of departed spirits is painted in lively colours by the Holy Ghost; but you will at once see that those only concern our present argument, which describe an _immediate_ entrance into joy and rest.

1. Let us begin then with the language of our blessed Saviour to the dying thief; which shows that they are gathered immediately to a joyful home; “To day thou shalt be with me in paradise.” There can be no question here as to his immediate happiness; there was no need of prayer for the repose of his soul. That very afternoon, when his poor exhausted frame hung lifeless on the cross, when he was carried off as an unclean thing to be buried out of the sight of man; that very afternoon, before the evening closed in, was the happy spirit in paradise with Jesus. And there is something very beautiful in the name here given to the home of Spirits. In 2 Cor. v. 1, it is described as “a building of God, an house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens;” but there is no name given there; here the name is given, but no description; the name is “Paradise.” In paradise there was no pain, no sickness, no sorrow, no death, no sin. Tears were never witnessed there till Adam turned his back on it, and so it is with the home of believers. Neither sin nor sorrow can ever gain admission. The gate is too strait for them, they are left behind with us on earth. In that home holiness is the joy, praise the incense, love the atmosphere, and Christ the light.

2. In this home again there is immediate rest. “They rest not day and night,” it is true, “crying, {40a} Holy, holy, holy, &c.;” for to them nothing could be so fatiguing as a pause from praise. Their most toilsome toil is to be silent from giving thanks. But from all labour they rest at once. When the spirit once takes its flight, to that soul the warfare is accomplished, the struggle over, the battle won. Only look at the words of St. John, Revelation xiv. 13. See how they are ushered in. “I heard a voice from heaven.” See how God would have them preserved as the lasting joy of the Church of Christ; for he says, “Write.” Mark their confirmation by the Holy Ghost, “Yea, thus saith the Spirit.” And now see their plain, indisputable testimony to the immediate and complete blessedness of the saints. “Blessed are the dead which die in the Lord from henceforth, yea, thus saith the Spirit, that they may rest from their labours; and their works do follow them.” There is no delay, no interval, no expiation. They are at once blessed; at once at rest; for they are fallen asleep in Jesus: they have died in the Lord.

3. This immediate blessedness is taught us also from the case of Lazarus. {40b} “When the beggar died he was carried by the angels into Abraham’s bosom,” not to purgatory; and when there he was comforted in the enjoyment of a rest with God.

4. But above all, the dying spirit passes immediately into the presence of Christ the Saviour.

It is most important for us to observe this, for there can be no real joy to the Christian if he be separate from Christ. The pure river of the fountain of life would lose all its charm if it did not proceed out of the throne of God and of the Lamb. The sea of glass, clear as crystal, would have no beauty if the face of Jesus were not reflected in it. The new Jerusalem itself would be no object of desire, though its walls be of jasper, its gate of pearl, its streets of gold, if Christ himself were not the light of it: for the brightest diamond has no brightness in the dark. Yea, heaven itself would become a hell if the Son of God were not the reigning Lord of it.

If we cannot prove, therefore, that the departed believer passes at once into the presence of his Lord, we in fact prove nothing. If for one moment we are to be separated from him, it little matters where. But thanks be to God we can prove it without the possibility of contradiction.

When Stephen died {41a} “he saw the glory of God, and Jesus standing at the right hand of God;” saw, as it were, the arm of Christ reaching forth to draw him up to heaven; so he fell down and prayed “Lord Jesus receive my spirit.”

When St. Paul doubted between life and death, he {41b} “had a desire to depart and be with Christ, which was far better.” Death then was a departure into the immediate presence of his Lord. But above all refer to 2 Cor. v. 6, 7, 8. “Therefore we are always confident, knowing that, whilst we are at home in the body we are absent from the Lord; (for we walk by faith not by sight;) we are confident, I say, and willing rather to be absent from the body, and to be present with the Lord.” The idea of this passage is that there are two homes for believers; two dwellings, one on earth, and one in heaven; one in the body, one in the presence of our Lord. While here we know him, but it is by faith alone. “We walk by faith, not by sight.” When there we shall see him in the full brilliancy of his love and glory. And this change is immediate. The veil is very thin that separates the world of flesh from the world of spirits. Every prayer of faith pierces it. The stream is very narrow that separates earth and heaven, and no sooner do we quit the one than we enter on the other; no sooner is the earthly home dissolved, than Christ himself is seen and the heavenly home opens for his people. So long as “we are at home in the body, we are absent from the Lord;” and we are willing rather to be absent from the body and to be present with the Lord. The departed believer, therefore, is at once found with Christ.

5. But there is another passage in which all these immediate blessings appear summed up in one short, but most expressive, word. “To me to live is Christ, and to die is gain.” {42}

We should have no fear in resting the question upon this text alone. It places the truth beyond the reach of all attack. “To die is gain,” therefore to die is not to go to purgatory. “To die is gain,” therefore to die is not to be tortured in fire for the expiation of our sin. Nor must we suppose that this refers to St. Paul alone. His acceptance rested on the same terms as ours. He was a sinner pardoned through the Lamb’s blood, and accepted on the same terms as the weakest believer in our congregation. To die was gain; not because he was an Apostle, but because to live was Christ. And if to us to live is Christ, then to us to die is gain.