01.01. Heart Work

Heart Work

"He who would do some great thing in this short life," says Foster, "must apply himself to the work with such a concentration of his forces, as, to idle spectators, who live only to amuse themselves — looks like insanity." How much more, when the work in which we are engaged concerns the well-being of our souls for eternity! Then, surely, we should count no time lost, no effort unnecessary, spent in obeying the solemn injunction, to "acquaint ourselves with God, and be at peace."

Though these pages are addressed chiefly to those who have already chosen the Lord for their portion, and are walking with Jesus in "newness of life" — it is possible that they may meet the eye of some, whose hearts are still set on the world, and the things of the world. And firm are the meshes in which it entangles the heedless footstep! Potent the spell which it weaves around the thoughtless and unwary! The world, so fair, so fascinating! how shall it be given up? How shall the fingers be unclasped from that bright cup which seems pressed so full of happiness?

Says the worldling, "Surely the sacrifice need not be made yet! The world and its pleasures need not yet be exchanged for the cross of self-denial and sacrifice! Not yet! Not yet!" But listen, dear reader, and if the words seem harsh, remember that they are those of Him whose heart yearns with tenderness, pity, and compassion for the lost and the perishing, "No man can serve two masters."

"If any man loves the world — the love of the Father is not in him."

"Friendship with the world is enmity with God."

What shall we say to these things? Shall we speak "Peace — when there is no peace?" Shall we flatter you with the hope that all may yet be well? Shall we point you to a crown of unfading glory — while your heart still rebels against the light and easy yoke of the Crucified One? Nay!

Rather would we remind you of the solemn warning, that "The end of these things is death!" A day will come when your eye will grow dim, and the death-damp gather on your brow, and your feet enter the dark valley. Where, then, will be your hope? Where, then, will be your refuge? And when that day has passed, and another — yet more terrible, has dawned — when the eternal throne shall be set, and the books opened, and the dead, small and great, stand before God — then where will you conceal yourself, that you may not hear the awful sentence, "Depart from Me, you who are cursed, into everlasting fire!"

It is because we would save you from such a fearful doom — a doom which, as surely as the Word of God is true, will overtake all, however naturally amiable and cordial — who reject the Savior’s offered mercy — that we would earnestly entreat you in Christ’s stead, "Be reconciled to God." Yield up to Jesus that heart which He died to win, that soul which He came to rescue from eternal destruction. Listen to the "still small voice," which gently whispers, "Come unto me all you that labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest." Go, as a little child, to the foot of the Savior’s cross, and ask to be taught of Him. Oh! believe it, there is no peace like the peace which Jesus gives! There is no joy like the joy of acceptance and reconciliation in the Beloved.

There are those who would tell you that religion is a gloomy thing — but believe them not. It is gloomy only to those who have just sufficient of it to embitter the pleasures of the world, but not sufficient to introduce them into the full blessedness of union with Christ. They have light enough to show them their danger — but they turn aside from that which would point out the path of safety. Yes, to such, to the wavering, the undecided — religion must be a gloomy thing.

They strive, although fruitlessly, to "serve two masters," and can please neither. Their inclinations are on one side, and their convictions on another — and the result is misery. Then the unhappiness which is caused by their own lack of decision and whole-heartedness, they charge upon religion, and thus the "way of truth is evil spoken of." Do not be you of their number. Let it be no longer with you an unsettled question, whether you are His or not. Rest not until you can say, if called tonight to leave this earthly tabernacle, with one who now sleeps in Jesus, "The Master calls, and I am ready!"

See that the atoning blood is sprinkled on your conscience, and that the sanctifying Spirit has begun His work upon your heart. Linger not. "Stay not in all the plain," for the twilight is falling fast, and the dark night of death will speedily overtake you. There will be no escape then — no hope — no Savior.

Then hasten to enter that door of mercy, which is open still. Hasten to comply with that invitation which addresses you in tones of mingled pity and reproof, "Turn, turn — why will you die?" Hasten to grasp the hand outstretched to save you! Hasten to draw near to God by the one "new and living way." There is mercy with Him for all who seek it. There is mercy for you.

Remember, it is not enough merely to be the subject of serious impressions. It is not enough to have the emotional part of your nature excited, as, Sabbath after Sabbath, you listen to the faithful appeals of some messenger of God. There may be all this — there may be appreciation of the beauty of religion — there may be attention to its outward duties — and the most praiseworthy diligence in helping forward every effort to promote its extension. Yet He, who is a "discerner of the thoughts and intents of the heart," may still write concerning you in His book of remembrance, "Dead in trespasses and sins!"

We believe that many are deceived by these things; that a naturally amiable disposition, or a surrounding atmosphere of piety which prevents their own inward corruption from fully manifesting itself; or affection for some particular minister, on whose shrine, almost as on that of an idol, they offer up days and hours of unwearied exertion, which they suppose to be for Christ — lulls them into a fatal slumber, from which, if not, by God’s mercy, previously aroused — they must one day have a fearful awakening! This surface work will not do. It leaves the inner depths of the heart untouched. They are not furrowed by the plough of sorrow for sin — nor fertilized by the soft showers of the Holy Spirit’s influence. And, if this is all that has taken place in you, my reader, then are you but one of the "stony-ground hearers," who "receive the word with joy," but whose fair promise withers beneath the sun of persecution or opposition.

Taken from the favorable circumstances in which you now are, and placed among those who know not God — what would become of your religion? Could it stand the test? Would it enable you to bear meekly the cross of contempt and scorn, for Christ’s sake? Or would you not rather be firmly entangled in the mazes of pleasure? Would you not be found among the number of those of whom it may be said, "Demas has forsaken me, having loved this present world!" "You did run well — who hindered you?"

Take these questions home to your own heart. Answer them on your knees before God. "Examine yourselves, whether you are in the faith — prove your own selves." See that your religion does not spring merely from being acted upon from without, but from heaven-born life within. Make sure work in this matter. Beware of self-deception. Let nothing satisfy you but a real "passing from death unto life," and becoming a "new creature in Christ Jesus." So, only, will you be "established in the faith" — and, in the day of the Lord’s appearing, be "found unto praise and honor and glory!" But we turn to a more pleasing theme, remembering that if the wanderer must be guided into the way of peace — the steadfast also need to be built up in their most holy faith. What, then, shall we say to you, dear friends and fellow-workers, who long to be employed in your Father’s business, and are willing to take from His hand your daily lot of suffering or of service?

We would remind you that there is no vineyard labor on which the Master looks with such a well-pleased eye, as heart work. It may not be in your power to perform great acts, or to make costly sacrifices. You may do no more than breathe the speechless prayer, or give the cup of cold water — yet, if your own heart is well and carefully tended, your Lord will reckon you among His "good and faithful servants." Is your home in Heaven? Are you called with a holy calling? Then "walk worthy" of it. Rest not satisfied with a low measure of spiritual attainment — but aim high, even at walking in living fellowship with a living Lord, constantly realizing His presence, and maintaining close and holy communion with Him.

Remember that it is your privilege to "know the things that are freely given to you of God" — not to linger on the threshold, but to approach the inner sanctuary with a "true heart, and in full assurance of faith." It may be that you sadly feel how far you are from having attained this assurance. It is but seldom, perhaps, that the warm, life-giving rays of the Sun of Righteousness shine brightly upon you. More often you are under a cloud — mourning an absent Lord. You feel that you are not firmly anchored to the Rock, but are ever tossed hither and thither on the waves of temptation and doubt — the light of hope extinguished, the witness of the Spirit lost.

These things ought not so to be. God’s heritage ought not so to lose sight of the "hope of their calling." Far be it from us to say that an assurance of salvation is indispensably necessary to the obtaining of it. There are many of God’s best beloved who literally "pass the time of their sojourning here in fear." There are many of the Savior’s followers who will never be able, in confidence and joy, to say that they are such — until the darkness of times is exchanged for the light of eternity.

Constitutional melancholy, physical weakness, or defective views of divine truth — may combine to tinge the inner life with a gloomy coloring.

Yet the weak believer who cleaves to Christ in the valley of humiliation — is no less dear to Him than the strong one who follows Him on the mount of glory. But we fear that many indolently rest in this, and do not strive nor pray to be freed from the bondage of servitude, and to enter into the full liberty of the children of God. At some future time, they say, when they shall have attained to some higher degree of holiness, when they shall more perfectly reflect the image of their risen Lord — then, perhaps, they may rejoice, but not now. Sunshine may be for others — but it is not for them. What have they to do with peace? Do they not feel a "law in their members, warring against the law of their mind, and bringing them into captivity to the law of sin?" Are they not continually stumbling and falling along the way — or wandering out of it altogether? Are they not, again and again, piercing with grief, the bosom which overflows with love to them?

Dear friend, these things may be true. All who know their own hearts feel that they must be true — and yet there need be no barrier to your rejoicing confidence. Well might the best and holiest among us go mourning all our days, if we were to look within ourselves for any ground of hope. It is not God’s will that any of His children should be in sadness and doubt. On the contrary, He commands them to "rejoice evermore," even "with joy unspeakable, and full of glory." "That your joy may be full" — is still His wish concerning you. Why, then, should His will and yours be at variance? Why should you refuse to take what He so freely offers?

We believe that the explanation may be found in that spirit of self-righteousness which is so apt to linger, even in the renewed heart, eating like a canker-worm into the very life of all spiritual enjoyment. You are not willing to "cease from your own works" — and be saved in another way than that of your own devising. You cannot believe that even you, with all your vileness and guilt, your coldness and ingratitude, are still pure and spotless in your Father’s eye, because clothed in the righteousness of His Son. You cannot realize that the most helpless outcast who approaches the throne of grace, pleading for mercy in the Savior’s name, is no longer "afar off, but brought near by the blood of Christ." Surely, if you believed this, you could not but rejoice. "For" (we quote from the correspondence of the late Dr. Chalmers), "let there be but belief in the Gospel — and the hindrance to peace, joy, confidence, in the good-will of a reconciled Father — is at once removed. Why postpone all this? Why not rely on the good tidings of great joy, and be glad accordingly? How long shall we put off trusting in God for that redemption which is through the blood of Jesus, even the forgiveness of sin? It may startle you to be told that this last question is tantamount to another — How long shall we persist in holding God to be a liar? He Himself distinctly reduces it to this alternative. He tells of the record which He has given us of His Son, and He complains of being made a liar of by all who will not believe it (John 5:10-11). This, one might think, is bringing salvation very near to us. It is telling us to take and live — to trust and be satisfied. On this footing, and it is the true one — there would be an instant translation from death to life, from darkness to the marvelous light of the Gospel. Let us not think that the way of being washed from our sins is anything more complex or circuitous than this; else we fall into the error of Naaman the Syrian, when told to wash him from his leprosy in the waters of Jordan. We are washed from our sins in the blood of Christ. Let us so believe, and so it shall be done unto us."

Look not then, inward, to the gloomy recesses of your own dark and troubled heart — but upward and outward, to the cleansing blood and perfect atonement of Him who is made unto you of God, "wisdom and righteousness, and sanctification, and redemption." Remember that, in Him, you are without spot and blameless; that in Him there is "no condemnation;" that in Him you, even you, may take up the triumphant challenge, "Who shall lay anything to the charge of God’s elect? It is God that justifies. Who is he who condemns? It is Christ that died — yes, rather, who is risen again."

Look unto Him, until you feel your doubts vanish, your fears depart, and your heart open itself to the warmth and light of love. Do not analyze your own feelings. Do not perplex yourself with intricate calculations as to the strength of your own faith. Do not argue, do not reason — but keep your eye steadily fixed on this one grand truth, that "Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners." Why should you exclude yourself from the number? Why should you refuse to take the full comfort of this "blessed hope?" Was it not the lost, whom Jesus came to seek and to save? Is it not the helpless wanderer, which He will guide in safety to the fold? Do not be afraid, then, but believe only, and all shall be well.

Go to God for the faith you have not in yourself. Pray, with one of old, "Lord, I believe, help my unbelief!" Bring your sin to the Sin-bearer. Bring your soul-sickness to the Good Physician. Doubt not but that His hand will be stretched forth to heal. Thus, and thus only, will your peace flow as a river. Thus, and thus only, in simply "looking unto Jesus" — not to yourself, will you be gradually "changed into the same image, from glory to glory."

Beware, lest you dishonor God, by resolutely wrapping yourselves in clouds and gloom, when He has commanded you to "walk in the light, as He is in the light." Beware, also, lest you confound together things that differ, and place your confidence rather in the Spirit’s work within you — than in the Redeemer’s work for you. The one is incomplete, and will ever be marred by infirmity, until this body of sin and death is laid aside; the other was completed more than eighteen hundred years ago, when Jesus cried and said, "It is finished!"

Here, then, is rest — the rest into which "we who have believed enter" — rest for you, O weary and faint one, "tempest-tossed, and not comforted." Do not fear to claim it as your heritage forever. Do not fear to cast yourself into the ocean fullness of your Father’s love! Do not fear to say, with chastened yet triumphant joy, "I know in whom I have believed, and am persuaded that He is able to keep that which I have committed unto Him."

Thus, also, will you most effectually promote your Savior’s glory. A life of praise and thanksgiving will be the best recommendation of the religion which you profess. If we can "sing the Lord’s song in this strange land" of sorrow and exile — then who can tell but that others may hear us, and, perhaps, be won to join us in our way? Let us show them that the Christian is not gloomy, as he is often falsely represented to be — but that his sympathies are rather with the bright things of life. His heart is free to enjoy the happiness of this life, because it is at rest concerning its title to that of another. If, like the man in Bunyan’s picture, "he has the world behind his back," he has also a "crown of glory hanging over his head!"

Let this be manifested in our daily life, and then our light will "so shine," that the Redeemer’s name may be exalted. The world can see that we are cross-bearers — let it see also in us the fulfillment of the promise, "In Me you shall have peace." In every circumstance we shall equally feel that the "joy of the Lord is our strength."

Nothing will so support us to bear the "sufferings of this present time," as the prospect of the "glory hereafter to be revealed." Nothing will so nerve our arm for the combat, as the realized presence of the great Captain of our salvation. Let us, then, pray earnestly that the "God of hope would fill us with all joy and peace in believing, that we may abound in hope, through the power of the Holy Spirit."

We have lingered upon this part of our subject, but we may be justified by its unspeakable importance, both to the individual Christian and to the Church at large. We believe that never will the Church of Christ fulfill the high and holy mission to which she has been called, in the evangelization of the world — until her members learn more fully to realize the privileges of their adoption, and to rejoice in the possession of that "perfect love, which casts out fear."

Again, we would entreat you to be on your guard, dear reader, against that religion of sentiment and aesthetic beauty, so unhappily prevalent in this our day, and which possesses so many attractions for the young and imaginative. It is difficult to avoid the snare! It is difficult to believe that anything hurtful can lurk under so much that is lovely, so much that seems devotion. Have you ever known what it is to worship in a Catholic Church, where the quiet sunbeams steal through the stained window, and flood arch and aisle with their rich yet mellowed light, or throw a radiant glory over the kneeling "Priest," who, in his snow-white robes, ministers at "the altar?" Have you ever listened to the pealing notes of some old chant or anthem, which, with its long low swell of almost unearthly sweetness, thrills even to your very soul? And when the last faint echoes died away, and holy words of prayer and blessing broke the sacred stillness — have you not felt that such worship was well-near fit for the "spirits of just men made perfect?"

Yet, beware! It may seem uncharitable to remove the veil; it may seem harsh to say that there is poison mingled in the cup! Yet so it is. Poison, not in that which meets the eye; not in stained-glass window, nor music, nor surpliced priest — but in the hidden error of which these things are but the outward tokens. All that would substitutes the sign for the thing signified — the cross for Him who was offered upon it a sacrifice for sin — or lead the worshiper to rest in any mere form, even the most pure — instead of rising upward to the spirit and the life — is and must be dangerous in its tendency.

And, without venturing on the troubled waters of controversy, we appeal only to experience, when we say — is not this, in too many cases, the result of the system to which we have alluded? Beware, then, dear reader, lest you suffer anything, harmless although it may seem to be, to come between your soul and God. Let no reasoning, however specious, no beauty of external worship, however attractive — tempt you from your firm hold upon the Scriptures of truth, or beguile you from the "simplicity that is in Christ." "To the law and to the testimony; if they speak not according to this word, it is because there is no light in them."

Pray that you may be kept in lowly humility at the Savior’s feet; and there may "learn of Him." Pray that, by His Almighty grace, He would keep your feet from the paths of error, and shield you from the evil that is in the world. Above all, pray that in your own heart you may experience the power of His Spirit to save and sanctify. Thus "keeping yourself in the love of God," you will possess the best safeguard against the seductions of mere human teaching.

But, on this subject, one more word of caution is needed. Take heed lest you fall into the opposite danger of harshness and lack of charity towards those who differ from you on minor points. At a time when religious controversy runs unhappily so high, it is difficult to avoid imbibing somewhat of its bitterness of spirit. Perhaps the prayer of our Church was never so much needed as now, "From all uncharitableness, good Lord, deliver us!" Do not condemn the good along with the evil; and, above all, do not allow yourself to be betrayed into personal prejudices, which a closer acquaintance with those against whom you cherish them, so frequently shows to be utterly unfounded. Remember that true and earnest piety may consist with wide difference of opinion on many minor points — and as long as human nature continues as it is, it is impossible that all men should see the same truths through the same medium.

Differences of temperament and natural constitution, with the prejudices of early education — combine to throw a difference of coloring over those which are in themselves essentially the same. So that, until you can take your brother’s place, and see with his eyes — you cannot be justified in sitting in judgment upon him. One mind cannot comprehend or feel the force of many things, which weigh most heavily with another. The cold and phlegmatic, for instance, have marvelously little ’sympathy with the impressible and optimistic, whose more yielding natures are readily acted upon from without.

There is One, and One only, who can look into the depths of every human heart, and He judges with perfect knowledge of every circumstance which has had a part in what is written there. But as for you — are you to pronounce a verdict against a fellow-sinner, whom, for anything you can tell — you may meet in the mansions above, if, by God’s mercy, you reach them yourself?

If, however, you have indeed been taught "as a new-born babe to desire the sincere milk of the word," you will gladly leave the more questionable nutriment of religious disputation to those whose calling and inclination may lead them thereto. When you look into your own heart, you will find there sufficient employment, without entering unnecessarily upon the discussion of matters of debate — and will also see sufficient of its sinfulness and pollution to teach you to bear very patiently with the infirmities of others.

Remember that zeal for religious doctrine, is not always zeal for Christ Himself. Many who manifest no lack of the former, give evidence, by their loud and angry condemnation of those who do not think along with them, that they know but little of the true spirit of the latter. They are far, very far, from exhibiting the "meekness and gentleness of Christ."

Nothing has so great a tendency to deaden the spiritual life, and to promote feelings of self-righteousness and pride, as angry contention, even though it be for the "faith once delivered to the saints." Be thankful, then, that you are not placed in the van of the battle, where duty would compel you to gird on your sword and fight. Be thankful that it is your privilege to take, directly from the hand of the true "Shepherd of your soul" the food convenient for you. "Feed on it in your heart by faith with thanksgiving." Only in this way, will you "grow in grace, and in the knowledge of your Lord and Savior Jesus Christ." But we have wandered somewhat from our original intention, which was rather to speak of the inner life, quiet and hidden from the eye of man, than of the disputes which so unhappily disturb the peace of Christ’s visible Church. And yet, on thoughtful reflection, a closer connection may be discerned between the two than might at first sight be supposed.

If that which is inward is to be preserved in health and vigor — then it must be jealously guarded from any pernicious influence from without. These are times of trial and danger, demanding proportionate watchfulness against error in any of its many and beguiling forms. The only safety is to be found in a spirit of child-like dependence upon Heavenly teaching, and in the prayer, offered in unreserved sincerity, "Hold me up — and I shall be safe!"

Hold fast the great fundamental truths of the gospel — those which affect the souls standing before God — and on minor matters you may well afford to suspend your judgment. Leave them for other and wiser heads, but "you continue in the things you have learned, and have been assured of" — clinging to that inspired Word, which contains all things necessary to make us "wise unto salvation." On this we need not further enlarge, but would rather remind our readers that there is but one way in which they may disentangle those perplexities in duty to which we have alluded in our introductory chapter, and, with them, many of the most difficult problems of the inner experience.

It is in seeking for that single eye and undivided aim to the Savior’s glory, which alone can smooth down the many little roughnesses and annoyances which we meet with in our daily path. When the constraining love of Jesus reigns in our hearts — we learn to delight in any labor, and to glory in any sacrifice, by which that love may be more clearly manifested. We are ready to cut off the right hand, and to pluck out the right eye, to do battle with the besetting sin, and to crucify the heart-idol — at the bidding of Him whose very life was willingly laid down for our sakes! And it is then alone, that our efforts in the cause of Christ can be successful. The words which we speak for God must come warm and fresh from the depths of our own living and personal experience — or they will fall cold and dead upon the hearts of others. Our speech may be about the things of the kingdom — but it cannot minister grace unto the hearers, unless it is "seasoned with salt." It is when we "speak that which we know, and testify that which we have seen" — when our heart is manifestly so in Heaven that all may take "knowledge of us that we have been with Jesus" — that the real power of our religion is shown and felt. Then the world is convinced, even by that which it cannot love — and God’s own people are edified and strengthened.

If, then, you would have your lamp to shine as a light in this dark world, remember that it must be daily fed with the fresh oil of the Spirit. Look to your own heart. See to your own vineyard. Be prayerful; be watchful; above all, be in earnest. Do not be satisfied with having a "name to live while you are dead" — but seek to have your life truly "hid with Christ in God." Oh, pray for a large measure of grace, even that your clay vessel may be "filled with all the fullness of God." Walk near to Him in holy fellowship, striving ever to realize the in-dwelling of His Spirit, that, as a temple of the Holy Spirit, you may abstain even from the very appearance of evil.

It is a dreary thing to live afar off from God — to be numbered among the children — and yet to be unable to look up to Him with trusting confidence and say, "My Father, who is in Heaven." We cannot toil up the Hill of Difficulty with the burden upon our back. It must be left first at the Cross, and then, freed from the weight of sin, we can go on from "strength to strength," until at length we "appear in Zion before God."

Again we say, do not allow the stain of unforgiven sin to rest upon your conscience, but keep it ever tender by constant approaches to the "fountain opened for sin and for impurity." There you may be washed daily from the defilement which you must necessarily contract in your passage through the world. Without this, your Christianity will always be dwarfed and stunted in its growth. You will "be ever learning — but never able to come to the knowledge of the truth." You will spend all your faith in laying the foundations of hope — and will have little time for those heaven-reaching exercises of adult faith, which fit the soul for dwelling amid the prospective glories and purities of perfected salvation.

We would not see you thus, dear reader. We would rather that you should be rejoicing in hope, dwelling ever in the secret place of communion with God, and abiding in peace under the shadow of His wings.

We believe that God’s children need at this time to be specially and solemnly reminded of that "other Comforter" whom the Savior has sent to supply to His people the place of His personal presence among them. We live under the dispensation of the Spirit — but are unconscious of our privilege in so doing? Of how many might this question be asked, "Have you received the Holy Spirit since you believed?" And how many, alas! might truthfully reply, that although they have indeed heard that "there is a Holy Spirit," yet they have thought little of His work and office, and seldom sought His quickening grace! Can we, then, wonder if our faith is feeble and our love cold? Can we marvel if our labor for Christ is so often unsuccessful? For never can there be an elevated standard of personal holiness, or real usefulness in our day and generation — until this communion of the Holy Spirit is sought and enjoyed. Never will the living epistles stand out in all their clearness before the eyes of an unbelieving world — until they are seen to be written by the "Spirit of the living God." In the early days of the church, the Apostles were "endued with power from on high," for the work to which they were called. Herein lies the secret of their influence, and of saintly influence in all ages since. And does that power no longer exist? May it not be given also to British Christians of the nineteenth century to be "filled with the Spirit" — to "walk in the Spirit"? Yes, truly, for the treasury of blessing is still full, even to overflowing. But "they have not, because they ask not." Let them "ask that they may receive," and so shall "their joy be full." So will they be strengthened with all might for the inward warfare, and bring life and light and healing to a world that "lies in darkness, and in the shadow of death." The time is fast approaching when the warfare shall be accomplished, and the victory won — when the wilderness shall be exchanged for the Father’s house, and the "light affliction" for the "fullness of joy." Be patient, then, my friends, unto the coming of the Lord. Pray only, strive only, live only — that when He comes you may be "found of Him in peace, without spot and blameless."

Live, so as to leave a mark behind you. Live, so that others may be the better and the happier for your life. Live, so that death may be to you but an "incident in mortality" — not dying, but going home to your Father’s arms, there to receive the welcome of the beloved child who has been long absent in a far-distant country, but now returns to be at rest forever!