08.20. "I HAVE AN OBJECT NOW."
"I HAVE AN OBJECT NOW." THE difference between looking to feelings within and to an object without, is a subject with which every evangelist is painfully familiar. No matter how long he may have been in the field, how large his experience, or how well acquainted with the subject, he must go over it again and again, with every fresh convert. There is no direct or royal road to peace with God according to the experience of anxious souls. However direct or plain the way may be in scripture, it is made most circuitous through the unbelief of the human heart and the subtlety of Satan. It is a rare thing for a soul to be turned completely away from itself to Christ when first awakened. Hence the unspeakable importance of personal conversation with experienced Christians by all such when first awakened. It might save them years of trouble afterwards.
Nearly all newly awakened souls judge of their state before God by their feelings. They cannot understand how they can be different in God’s sight to what they feel themselves to be. Hence their faith is governed by their feelings. They believe just what they feel to be true to them — that they are as good or as bad as they feel. Still thank God, the soul is awakened, it is anxious, and Satan can no longer lull it to sleep as before; it will not be quiet, it is troubled, it wants rest; it wants to be sure of salvation. And the one grand object of the enemy now is to throw the anxious one off the true ground of faith and in upon itself — to be guided by feelings in place of the word of God. And so successful is this snare, that few escape its toils, and multitudes are entangled therein and held in bondage for years, though this ought never to be, surely. Still, it is the Lord, and the Lord only, that can speak peace to a troubled soul and give it to enjoy full deliverance. He only can say, "Loose him and let him go." But this brings me to the following simple incident from real life, which is the occasion of this paper. On a Lord’s day afternoon in a town hall in the country, not long ago, a person was introduced to me by a christian friend, as anxious about her soul. I found it to be a chronic case of feelings with very little intelligence about Christ, His work, or the word of God, but most sincere and earnest. My point was, that Christ could not be more willing to receive her tomorrow than today, His word could not be truer, or His work more complete; therefore, why not come now, believe and rejoice? The appeal in the afternoon for instant decision for Christ, was founded on these two words, "Come now;" which had greatly interested her, and presented a new line of truth to her mind. Like most of this class, she would be ready to own that all she had heard was true, and that she did not doubt a word of it, but it was not true to her because she did not feel it; she was waiting to experience that change within, which would be her warrant for believing that it was true to her. She acknowledged that she had been waiting for this inward change for years. Hardly anything can be more discouraging or hopeless to an evangelist than this, for the lives of such are generally most blameless; there is conscience enough to make them religious. After pointing out her mistake and assuring her that all her darkness arose from looking to herself in place of Christ, and from trusting to feelings in place of His finished work, we parted. She was back again in the evening, but I did not see her. The following day her christian neighbour, who had induced her to come to the preaching, let me know that the woman I had spoken to had found peace with God, and that she would like to see me. With the assistance of a friend I found her humble home. We had scarcely entered when she began to speak of the blessing she had received on Lord’s day: but all I will give in her own words is the following. "When I awoke on Monday morning, at five o’clock, the thought came into my mind, I have an object now — I have an object now." And spreading her hand over her breast, she added, "I used to think I must feel it all in here first, but now it’s all in Christ; and often today when I was at my work it came into my mind." From the simplicity of the woman, it was perfectly evident that she had no idea that she was saying anything particular; it was the truthful expression of her new experience. But, nevertheless, these few simple words went straight home to my heart, clothed with light and power. They contain truths of the very deepest and highest practical instruction and value. There is not a troubled conscience in Christendom that would not find peace in looking to that same blessed object; not a doubting heart that would not be settled; not a weary soul that would not find rest; not a lost soul that would not find salvation. True, we read, "Look unto me and be ye saved . . . . Come unto me and I will give you rest . . . . Hear, and your soul shall live . . . . Only believe." But the power — the healing virtue — is not in the looking, the coming, the hearing, the believing; but all in the object — the heavenly Christ, the man in the glory. When the eye rests on Him as its one object, all doubts and darkness flee away. The midnight of the soul is exchanged for the brightness of the noonday sun. Now the eye is single, having but one object, and the whole body is full of light. "They looked unto him and were lightened, and their faces were not ashamed." Psalms 34:5.
These are some of the immediate and necessary results of looking to Jesus in place of self. The feelings cease to be the centre of importance, and — the blessed Lord, the exalted man in the glory, becomes the new object of the eye — the new centre of our thoughts, feelings, affections, ways, and worship. All is changed, but the change is deep and all-prevailing. And as we grow in our knowledge of Christ, the results are infinite. By degrees, if the eye is fixed on its heavenly object, we enter into the fulness of Christ as the measure of our own blessing. We know our place in the presence of God according to the acceptance of Christ Himself — we are accepted in the beloved, and have settled peace with God. And now, the feelings, so long looked for and waited for, are come. But how? By making self the centre — by some felt change within? Ah no; but by looking to Jesus and believing the word of God. The only thing that can produce the feelings so much desired is the written word — "Thus it is written" — but until the word is believed, the feelings can never be experienced. But now when the eye rests on its new object, the Holy Spirit is free to reveal the grace and truth of Christ to the soul. Light breaks in on the mind, the truth of God fills the heart, and new joy overflows the whole soul.
It is no longer with the anxious one, "If I could only feel it I would believe," but, "I see all in Jesus now. When I am looking up to Him, so many things come into my mind which move my heart with deep emotion and fill my eyes with tears of joy. How can I think of His wondrous love in coming down from heaven to die for me, without being thus deeply moved? I think of His sufferings on the cross, of His crown of thorns, but chiefly of His love which nothing could turn aside, which carried Him through everything, which only became the stronger as the pressure from all sides increased." Such are the sweet and tender breathings of first love when the blessed Jesus covers the eyes and fills the heart. THE CONVERSION OF SAUL. But apart from the varying condition of soul which we meet with in our own day, and the disappointments which we sometimes meet with in the history of young Christians, we have the example of the great apostle of the Gentiles on this point, whose experience has been recorded by the pen of inspiration. When on his way to Damascus, as we learn from the Acts he was arrested by a light from heaven shining round about him above the brightness of the sun. The astonished, persecuting Saul fell to the ground. He had now come to the end of himself; not only as to the sins of the flesh, but as to the righteousness of the flesh with all his advantages, natural and acquired, from his birth to that day and hour. This is the true preparation of heart for the right apprehension of a glorified Christ — our heavenly object. When we are down, when we are nothing, when we are no longer looking for holy feelings, a change for the better within, to make us worthy of divine favour; but when with our faces on the ground we are obedient to the heavenly vision, the light of the glory shines into our souls. "And I heard a voice saying unto me, Saul, Saul, why persecutest thou me? And I answered, Who art thou, Lord? And he said unto me, I am Jesus of Nazareth, whom thou persecutest." Here we have the proper object of the Christian, and that which should form and govern every Christian’s character. Saul learns from Christ Himself in the glory, that He was Jesus of Nazareth, the crucified, and that Christians are a part of Himself — one with Himself in the glory. "Why persecutest thou me? . . . . I am Jesus whom thou persecutest." Who would care to look to their feelings, their own righteousness or religiousness, who had caught a glimpse of this glorified Christ? This is the grand truth, the grand object for Christians, as we go through this world. — Hold it fast, O my soul; think again on the peculiar sweetness and beauty of these words, "Christ Jesus my Lord," oh cherish them in the deepest recesses of thy heart, embrace them with all the fervour and affection of thy soul; think again on each word, and let thine eye and thy heart be ever up to Him as thy heavenly object — Christ Jesus thy Lord. Like Rebekah in the wilderness, tarry not, look not behind thee or around thee, but pursue thy desert path until He comes to close thy weary way, and take thee up to be with Himself, and like Himself, for ever and for ever.
One thought more presses on my mind for utterance before laying down my pen, namely — What must be the folly of those Christians who allow themselves to be influenced by the world, the theories of men, or to be drawn aside, and so lose sight of this grand transforming object — a glorified Christ? But what must be the wickedness of those who reject this Christ altogether? The former must suffer great loss in their own souls, but the latter eternal shame and hopeless ruin. Which, let me ask, has a hold of this paper just now? Enough may have been said already to the former; but to the latter, enough can never be said, so long as he continues to reject the Saviour. Surely we cannot give thee up; surely we cannot leave thee alone. While there is life, we must plead for thee to bow to Jesus as Saviour and Lord. What will become of thee if thy knee refuses to bow to Him now? The word has gone forth and can never be recalled, that every knee must bow to Him, and every tongue must confess that Jesus Christ is Lord to the glory of God the Father.
God has ordained it; subjection to the name of Jesus must be universal. In heaven, earth, and hell, every knee must bow, and every tongue must confess to the divine glories of the once lowly Jesus of Nazareth. The faithful, we know, with loud and joyous hallelujahs will confess Him Saviour and Lord; the holy angels will swell the song of the saints on high; but the fallen angels with the lost of every name and age, who are "under the earth," in the regions of woe, must also confess that "Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father." Yes, my dear reader, willingly or unwillingly, thy knee must bow with the rest, and thy tongue must confess. But how awful the thought, to be compelled, however reluctantly, under the iron rod of judgment, to confess the glories of the Saviour in whom thou hast no part, and to bow to Him whom thou didst once reject!
Oh! think, think, of these things now — at once, I pray thee! think of that awful future for all who reject Christ and His great salvation. Couldst thou dwell "under the earth," in the dark regions of despair, for ever and ever? Hast thou any feeling, O my dear fellow-sinner? Couldst thou risk such an awful eternity? Couldst thou throw away such a glorious opportunity as thou hast at this moment? Does it seem hard to bow at the feet of Him who once died amidst shame and cruel mockings, that thou, even thou, mightest be saved? For myself, I know no privilege so great, no honour, no dignity, so transcendent, as to bathe those feet with tears; but what more can I say to thee? Only one thing is right — Let thy heart be decided for Christ on the spot. Bow to Him now, confess Him now, He is still on His throne of grace, He waits for thee in love. As a lost and needy sinner, look up to Him now; pardon, salvation, and heavenly glory are thine, from the first moment of thy surrender to Him. What a prize! How near thy reach! Henceforth let thy motto be, Looking up to Christ in. the glory, He "loved me and gave himself for me." Galatians 2:20.
21 MEETNESS FOR HEAVEN.
MAN in his lost condition is the object of the grace of God. But where does that grace find him? how does it deliver him? what does it do for him? and where does it set him? As the slave of Satan and of darkness it finds him, out of this condition it delivers him, from all his guilt it cleanses him, and sets him in the light and liberty of the free-born children of God. The soul’s blessing is complete: not by a rule given him to obey, not by long watchings, fastings, prayers, individual or concerted — good as these things may be — but by the grace of God acting in power, and setting him in an entirely new relationship with Himself. So far does this operation of grace transcend all human thought, that it can only be understood in the simplicity of faith, and by setting aside all present experience as a guide. The word of God reveals it, faith receives it, and maintains it to be true beyond a question. Experience we shall have, but it will be the experience of a joy and a happiness answering to the truth believed, and to the grace of God in which we stand. To look within for evidences of our pardon and acceptance is to be filled with darkness and uncertainty. The believer in his new place — this wondrous place of measureless blessedness — can only worship. He has nothing to ask for as regards the blessing of his soul, he is complete in Christ, though in everything by prayer and supplication he is to let his requests be made known unto God, as to his whole path here below. But his prayers are full of praise; so perfectly at rest, so assured of the changeless favour of God, his heart, like David’s cup, overflows. How can it be otherwise? Hear what the apostle says:-
Colossians 1:12. Giving thanks unto the Father, which hath made us meet to be partakers of the inheritance of the saints in light. Here we are arrested, overwhelmed, by the greatness of the grace. No human pen can add to the fulness and blessedness of these words. We do well to pause, and meditate on the vast but gracious thought — made meet to share the portion of the saints in light. Not merely to share the inheritance of saints, or of saints in heaven, but of saints "in light" — in the light of our Father’s immediate presence. How absolute is the effect of the work of Christ on the soul! Whiter than snow, we stand in the light where holiness and righteousness dwell, and find that we are made meet to enjoy the children’s portion there. But the saints here referred to, some may suppose, must be advanced saints, those who have reached great attainment in the christian life. No, not so; what is said here is said of all who believe in the Lord Jesus, in every period in life, and in all ages and in all countries. The youngest as well as the oldest, the most ignorant and the most learned, who believe, are made meet by the Father for the light in which He dwells — it is the work of God in Christ Jesus, and can never fail. The Christian, from the day of his conversion, is in the light as God is in the light. Practically, we know, both young and old in the divine life may forget this, may not always walk according to the light, may indeed be sometimes in a dark state and unhappy. Still, he is always in the light, as to his place and acceptance in Christ; that is now his native place, and can never know any change, but this makes the failure of Christians all the more serious. The grace of God, however can never fail, and, blessed be His name, we stand in grace. The penitent thief on the cross, we are assured, was as fit for Paradise the moment he believed as if he had lived fifty years the most devoted saint on earth. His crown would have been different, but he himself would not have been better fitted for the realms of light and glory. He had Christ and His acceptance in heaven. The prodigal son is another instance of the same kind, a blessed picture, an example — ever fresh, ever refreshing — of every case of conversion. Met by a Father’s love, reconciled with a Father’s kiss, sealed with a Father’s ring; the best of everything in heaven is his. He leaves the husks for the fatted calf — that was his last meal in the old country, this his first in the new. But could he ever have better — Christ in resurrection? And could he ever lose his robe, his ring, with all his new treasures, in his Father’s house? Impossible! The once lost sheep, safely within the gates of glory, no harm can ever reach it there; no evil can ever disturb that scene of love; no enemy can ever invade those peaceful shores — that happy land of pure, unmingled, eternal, changeless blessedness!
All this is true to faith now; ours is always a present meetness. Oh, what rest there is to the heart in grace! We can think and speak of those who have finished their course, not according to the variableness of early piety, but according to the true, unvarying, grace of our God. We read of their fitness, their welcome, their home, their companions, in light, in the words of eternal truth. The shadow of a doubt can never cross the mind as to our dear departed. The messenger of peace may have come at an earlier hour than he was expected, but he could never find him unprepared. No matter where he was, or what the circumstances may have been, his last moments were the happiest in his existence. To depart, and to be with Christ, which is far better, closes the pilgrim’s weary way, and begins his new eternal song, with the saints that have gone before, in the presence of their Lord. Dear and loved ones may surround and smooth the pillow on which the weary head reclines. or he may be alone, far away from a well-known voice, tossed on life’s roughest wave; but our God is there, and has ordered everything. We can always trust in Him.
"My bark is wafted from the strand
By breath divine,
And on the helm there rests a hand
Other than mine.
One who has known in storms to sail,
I have on board;
Above the raging of the gale
I have my Lord.
He holds me when the billows smite:
I shall not fall.
If sharp, ’tis short; if long, ’tis light:
He tempers all.
Safe to the land! — Safe to the land!
The end is His,
And then with Him go hand in hand
Far into bliss."*
*Lines by the late Dean Alford. But however sure and certain that the separation is only for "a little while," and that good is the will of the Lord, the poor human heart is bowed down beneath the weight of a sorrow that has cast its dark shade over everything around, and deepens by the tender recollections of a thousand associations day by day. It is not unbelief, it is not murmuring, it is the agony of a bereaved affection. Oh, mysterious agony! Thy voice is groans and sighs; thy repast is tears, yet we would not be withdrawn from thee, we love to feed upon thee, we love to dwell with thee alone. It changes everything here below, but more to some than to others. The paths of the wilderness may be dark and lonely, the poor body may be feeble, the spirit may be crushed, the heart may lie bleeding, the shadows of death may so thicken around us in the valley, that we are unable to proceed, and can only say, "Father, take my hand, and through the gloom lead safely home thy child."
Time alone restores. After a while the sorrow sleeps, but never dies; or it may ebb like the tide, but flows again as deep as ever. Communion with the Lord is the only healing balm for the wounded spirit, and communion with His word the true means for recovering power for service * And nothing will so naturally and sweetly take a sorrowing heart off itself as being interested in the salvation of others for the Lord’s glory.
We can only just glance at the next two verses, though they are of such rare beauty and importance.
Colossians 1:13-14. Who hath delivered us from the power of darkness, and hath translated us into the kingdom of his dear Son. In whom we have redemption through his blood, even the forgiveness of sins. Here we have the character of the work which sets us in the light. This great blessing — made meet for the inheritance of the saints in light — depends upon two things — Deliverance and Forgiveness. Complete deliverance from the power of darkness, from the whole realm and region of the enemy; and not only so, Cc we are translated into the kingdom of his dear Son." Both are absolutely complete now in the reckoning of faith. "Who hath" — not who may, or will, but "who hath delivered us." Redemption and the forgiveness of sins sum up the Father’s blessing to His children, in happy association with the Son of His love, throughout the eternal ages. See also Ephesians 1:3-6; Ephesians 2:4-7. The Lord grant that all who read these lines may be led to inquire, "Am I ready, should the summons come tonight? or am I still the slave of Satan, and in the realm of darkness?" There is no middle place. Every one who reads this paper is either made meet by the Father for the inheritance of the saints in light, or he is still under the power of darkness. But, oh, how great the difference! The bright inheritance on high, or the dark regions of hell below! Which is it to be, my dear reader? Make thy choice now; let thy heart be decided for Jesus now: rest not, sleep not, until thou hast surrendered thy whole heart to Jesus. One look to Him in faith changes everything — changes thy position, changes thy present state of mind, and changes thy destinies for ever. He has died for sinners — He has died for thee; what hast thou done for Him? He has paid the ransom price adequate for the redemption of all.
"I gave My life for thee,
My precious blood I shed,
That thou might’st ransomed be,
And quickened from the dead,
I gave My life for thee;
What hast thou given for Me?" The blessed Lord still waits to receive all who come to Him, and welcomes them as He welcomed the penitent thief and the prodigal son; surely that is encouragement enough. Oh, be at once decided for the Lord; own His claims, bow to His word, believe in His love, and rejoice in all the grace which is thine in Him. And then should the Lord come for His saints before death comes for thee, thou wilt be ready to ascend with them to meet thy Lord in the air. Come, oh come, happy morning, come! Then shall all tears be dried, and all shadows shall flee away. It is the morning without clouds; it is the morning when our loved departed shall rise again; when we shall be reunited in our bodies of glory, all perfectly conformed to the image of the Lord, and dwell together, an unbroken circle, in the bright, bright beams of His unchanging love, throughout the countless ages of eternity.
"O happy morn! the Lord will come,
And take His waiting people home
Beyond the reach of care;
Where guilt and sin are all unknown:
The Lord will come and claim His own,
And place them with Him on His throne,
Thy glory bright to share.
The resurrection-morn will break,
And every sleeping saint awake
Brought forth in light again;
O morn, too bright for mortal eyes!
When all the ransomed church shall rise,
And wing their way to yonder skies
Called up with Christ to reign.
O Lord! my pilgrim-spirit longs
To sing the everlasting songs
Of glory, honour, power:
When heaven and earth, and all things yield,
My Saviour will be still my shield,
For He has to my soul revealed
Himself my strength and tower."