Menu
Chapter 102 of 186

06.01a. MORE PEARLS FROM PHILPOT

45 min read · Chapter 102 of 186

The mother and mistress of all the sins

"I hate pride and arrogance." Proverbs 8:13

"The Lord detests all the proud of heart. Be sure of this: They will not go unpunished." Proverbs 16:5

Of all sins, pride seems most deeply imbedded in the very heart of man. Unbelief, sensuality, covetousness, rebellion, presumption, contempt of God’s holy will and word, deceit and falsehood, cruelty and wrath, violence and murder—these, and a forest of other sins have indeed struck deep roots into the black and noxious soil of our fallen nature; and, interlacing their lofty stems and gigantic arms, have wholly shut out the light of heaven from man’s benighted soul.

But these and their associate evils do not seem so thoroughly interwoven into the very constitution of the human heart, nor so to be its very life-blood, as pride. The lust of the flesh is strong, but there are respites from its workings. Unbelief is powerful, but there are times when it seems to lie dormant. Covetousness is ensnaring, but there is not always a bargain to be made, or an advantage to be clutched.

These sins differ also in strength in different individuals. Some seem not much tempted with the grosser passions of our fallen nature; others are naturally liberal and benevolent, and whatever other idol they may serve, they bend not their knee to the golden calf.

But where lust may have no power, covetousness no dominion, and anger no sway—there, down, down in the inmost depths, heaving and boiling like the lava in the crater of a volcano, works that master sin—that sin of sins, pride!

Pride is the mother and mistress of all the sins; for where she does not conceive them in her ever-teeming womb, she instigates their movements, and compels them to pay tribute to her glory.

The ’origin of evil’ is hidden from our eyes. Whence it sprang, and why God allowed it to arise in His fair creation, are mysteries which we cannot fathom. But thus much is revealed—that of this mighty fire which has filled hell with sulphurous flame, and will one day envelop earth and its inhabitants in the general conflagration, the first spark was pride!

Pride is therefore emphatically the devil’s own sin. We will not say his darling sin, for it is his torment, the serpent which is always biting him, the fire which is ever consuming him. But it is the sin which hurled him from heaven, and transformed him from a bright and holy seraph, into a foul and hideous demon!

How subtle, then, and potent must that poison be, which could in a moment change an angel into a devil! How black in nature, how concentrated in virulence that venom—one drop of which could utterly deface the image of God in myriads of bright spirits before the throne—and degrade them into monsters of uncleanness and malignity!

I needed no monkish rules then.

A man may . . .
have a consistent profession of religion,
have a sound, well ordered creed,
be a member of a Christian church,
attend to all ordinances and duties,
seek to frame his life according to God’s word,
have his family prayer, and private prayer,
be a good husband, father, and friend,
be liberal and kind to God’s cause and people,
and yet with all this bear no fruit Godwards.

What is all this but pitiful self-holiness?

Real gospel fruit is only produced by the word of God’s grace falling into the heart, watering and softening it. Without this there is . . .
not one gracious feeling,
not one spiritual desire,
not one tender thought,
not one heavenly affection.

We have tried, perhaps, to make ourselves holy. We have watched our eyes, our ears, our tongues; have read so many chapters every day out of God’s word; continued so long upon our knees; and so tried to work a kind of holiness into our own souls.

Many years ago, I used to try to pray for the better part of an hour; and I am ashamed to say, I have been glad to hear the clock strike. What was this but a monkish, self-imposed rule, to please God by the length of my prayers?

But when the Lord was pleased to touch my conscience with His finger, He gave me a remarkable spirit of grace and supplication; I needed no monkish rules then. The strong man sinks down into a babe!

"The Lord is my rock, and my fortress, and my deliverer; my God, my strength, in whom I will trust." Psalms 18:2

As long as a man has any strength of his own, he will never have any strength in the Lord; for the strength of Jesus is made perfect in our weakness.

Oh, what a painful lesson we have to learn to find all our strength is weakness. There was a time when we thought we had strength, and could . . .
resist Satan,
overcome the world,
endure persecution,
bear the reproach of man,
mortify and keep down pride, and the evils of our heart.

Have we found ourselves able to carry out our fancied strength? What has been our experience in this matter? That we have discovered more and more our own weakness; that we cannot stand against one temptation; the least gust blows us down!

Our besetting lusts, our vile passions, and the wicked desires of our hearts, so entice our eyes and thoughts; so entwine themselves around our affections; that we give out in a moment, unless God Himself holds us up! We cannot stand against sin; our heart is as weak as water.

Thus we learn our weakness, by feeling ourselves to be the very weakest of the weak, and the very vilest of the vile.

As the Lord leads a man deeper down into the knowledge of his corruptions, it makes him more
and more out of conceit with his righteous, pious, holy self. The more the Lord leads a man into the knowledge of . . .
temptation,
his besetting sin,
the power of his corruptions,
the workings of his vile nature;
the more deeply and painfully he learns what a poor, helpless, weak, powerless wretch he is.

As the Lord is pleased to unfold before his eyes the strength, power, and fullness lodged in Jesus Christ; He draws him, leads him, brings him, encourages him, and enables him to come to this fullness. And by the hand of faith he draws supplies out of that fullness.

As the Lord enables the soul to look to Jesus, His blessed strength is communicated and breathed into his soul. Then the ’poor worm Jacob’ threshes the mountains, beats down the hills, and makes them fly before him as chaff. When the Lord strengthens him, he can . . .
stand against temptation,
overcome sin,
bear persecution,
subdue the evils of his heart, and
fight against the world, the flesh, and the devil.

When the Lord leaves him, he is like Samson with his locks cut. He sinks into all evil, and feels the helplessness of his fallen nature. Let the Lord but remove His gracious presence, and the strong man sinks down into a babe! And he that in the strength of the Lord could thresh the mountains, falls down as weak and helpless as a little child.

Thus the Lord painfully and solemnly teaches us, that being nothing in ourselves, and feeling our weakness, helplessness, and wretchedness; in Him alone we have strength.

Save me, and I shall be saved!

"Save me, and I shall be saved!" Jeremiah 17:14

This implies salvation from the power of sin;the secret dominion sin possesses in the heart.

O, what a tyrannical rule does sin sometimes exercise in our carnal minds! How soon are we entangled in flesh-pleasing snares! How easily brought under the secret dominion of some hidden corruption! And how we struggle in vain to deliver ourselves when we are caught in the snares of the devil, or are under the power of any one lust, besetment, or temptation!

The Lord, and the Lord alone can save us from all these things. He saves from the power of sin by . . .
bringing a sense of His dying love into our hearts,
delivering us from our idols,
raising our affections to things above,
breaking to pieces our snares,
subduing our lusts,
taming our corruptions, and
mastering the inward evils of our dreadfully fallen nature.

Here is this sin! Lord, save me from it.

Here is this snare! Lord, break it to pieces.

Here is this temptation! Lord, deliver me out of it.

Here is this lust! Lord, subdue it.

Here is my proud heart! Lord, humble it.

None but the Lord can do these things for us . . .
nothing but the felt power of God,
nothing but the putting forth of His mighty arm,
nothing but the shedding abroad of His dying love,
nothing but the operations of His grace upon our soul,
can deliver us from the secret power of evil.

"Save me, and I shall be saved!"

Crush its viper head with the heel of our boot!

"Whoever will come after Me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross and follow Me" Mark 8:34

To deny and renounce self lies at the very foundation of vital godliness.

It is easy in some measure to leave the world; easy to leave the professing church; but to go forth out of self, there is the difficulty, for this "self" embraces such a variety of forms.

What varied shapes and forms does this monster SELF assume! How hard to trace his windings! How difficult to track this wily foe to his hidden den; drag him out of the cave; and immolate him at the foot of the cross, as Samuel hewed down Agag in Gilgal.

Proud self, righteous self, covetous self, ambitious self, sensual self, deceitful self, religious self, flesh-pleasing self.

How difficult to detect, unmask, strip out of its changeable suits of apparel, this ugly, misshaped creature, and then stamp upon it, as if one would crush its viper head with the heel of our boot!

Who will do such violence to beloved self, when every nerve quivers and shrinks; and the coward heart cries to the uplifted foot, "Spare, spare!"

But unless there is this self crucifixion, there is no walking hand in hand with Christ, no heavenly communion with Him; for there can no more be a partnership between Christ and self, than there can be a partnership between Christ and sin.

Poor, moping, dejected creatures

We are, most of us, so fettered down by . . .
the chains of time and sense,
the cares of life and daily business,
the weakness of our earthly frame,
the distracting claims of a family, and
the miserable carnality and sensuality of our fallen nature,
that we live at best a poor, dragging, dying life.

Many of us are poor, moping, dejected creatures. We have . . .
a variety of trials and afflictions,
a daily cross and the continual plague of an evil heart.

We know enough of ourselves to know that in SELF there is neither help nor hope, and never expect a smoother path, a better, wiser, holier heart. As then . . .
the weary man seeks rest,
the hungry man seeks food,
the thirsty man seeks drink,
and the sick man seeks health,
so do we stretch forth our hearts and arms that we may embrace the Lord Jesus Christ, and sensibly realize union and communion with Him.

He discovers the evil and misery of sin that we may seek pardon in His bleeding wounds and pierced side.

He makes known to us our nakedness and shame, and, as such, our exposure to God’s wrath, that we may hide ourselves under His justifying robe.

He puts gall and wormwood into the world’s choicest draughts, that we may have no sweetness but in and from Him.

What a battlefield is the heart

I have so much opposition within, so many temptations, lusts, and follies; so many snares and besetments; and a vile heart, dabbling in all carnality and filth.

I am indeed exercised "by sin and grace."

Sin or grace seems continually uppermost; striving and lusting against one another. What . . .
lustings, sorrowings;
fallings, risings;
defeats, and victories.

What a battlefield is the heart, and there the fight is lost and won. When sin prevails, mourning over its wounds and slaughter. When grace and godly fear beat back temptation, a softening into gratitude.

How can he travel through this waste howling wilderness?

If you are alive to what you are as a poor, fallen sinner—you will see yourself surrounded by . . .
enemies,
temptations,
sins, and
snares.

You will feel yourself utterly defenseless, as weak as water, without any strength to stand against them. You will see a mountain of difficulties before your eyes.

If you know anything inwardly and experimentally of yourself of . . .
the evils of your heart,
the power of sin,
the strength of temptation,
the subtlety of your unwearied foe,
and the daily conflict between nature and grace,
the flesh and the Spirit, which are the peculiar marks of the true child of God—you will find and feel your need of salvation as a daily reality.

How shall you escape the snares and temptations spread in your path? How shall you get the better of all your enemies . . .
external,
internal,
infernal,
and reach heaven’s gates safe at last?

There is present salvation, an . . .
inward,
experimental,
continual
salvation communicated out of the fullness of Christ as a risen Mediator.

Don’t you need to be daily and almost hourly saved? But from what? Why, from everything in
you that fights against the will and word of God.

Sin is not dead in you.

If you have a saving interest in the precious blood of Christ—if your name is written in the Lamb’s book of life, and heaven is your eternal home—that does not deliver you from the indwelling of sin, nor from the power of sin—except as grace gives you present deliverance from it.

Sin still works in your carnal mind, and will work in it until your dying hour. What then
you need to be saved from is the . . .
guilt,
filth,
power,
love, and
practice
of that sin which ever dwells and ever works in you, and often brings your soul into hard and cruel bondage.

Now Christ lives at the right hand of God for His dear people, that He may be ever saving them by His life. There He reigns and rules as their glorious covenant Head, ever watching over, feeling for and sympathizing with them, and communicating supplies of grace for the deliverance and consolation for all His suffering saints spread over the face of the earth. The glorious Head is in heaven, but the suffering members upon earth; and as He lives on their behalf, He maintains by His Spirit and grace, His life in their soul.

Each Christian has to walk through a great and terrible wilderness, wherein are fiery serpents, and scorpions, and drought (Deuteronomy 8:15); where he is surrounded with temptations and snares—his own evil heart being his worst foe.

How can he travel through this waste howling wilderness unless he has a Friend at the right hand of God to send him continual supplies of grace—who can hear his prayers, answer his petitions, listen to his sighs, and put his tears into his bottle—who can help him to see the snares, and give him grace to avoid them—who observes from his heavenly watch tower the rising of evil in his heart, and can put a timely and seasonable check upon it before it bursts into word or action?

He needs an all-wise and ever-living Friend who can . . .
save him from pride by giving him true humility;
save him from hardness of heart by bestowing repentance;
save him from carelessness by making his conscience tender;
save him from all his fears by whispering into his soul, "Fear not, I have redeemed you."

The Christian has to be continually looking to the Lord Jesus Christ . . .
to revive his soul when drooping,
to manifest His love to his heart when cold and unfeeling,
to sprinkle his conscience with His blood when guilty and sinking,
to lead him into truth,
to keep him from error and evil,
to preserve him through and amid every storm,
to guide every step that he takes in his onward journey,
and eventually bring him safe to heaven.

We need continual supplies of His grace, mercy, and love received into our hearts, so as to save us . . .
from the love and spirit of the world,
from error,
from the power and strength of our own lusts,
and the base inclinations of our fallen nature.

These will often work at a fearful rate; but this will only make you feel more your need of the power and presence of the Lord Jesus to save you from them all.

You are a poor, defenseless sheep, surrounded by wolves, and, as such, need all the care and defense of the good Shepherd.

You are a ship in a stormy sea, where winds and waves are all contrary, and therefore need an all wise and able pilot to take you safe into harbor.

There a single thing on earth or in hell which can harm you—if you are only looking to the Lord Jesus Christ, and deriving supplies of grace and strength from Him.

What trifles, what toys, what empty vanities do the great bulk of men pursue!

If God left us for a single hour

"Don’t leave us!" Jeremiah 14:9

How much is summed up in those three words!

What would it be for God to leave us?

What and where would we be,
if God left us for a single hour?

What would become of us?

We would fall at once into the hands . . .
of sin,
of Satan, and
of the world.

We would be abandoned to our own evil hearts—abandoned, utterly abandoned to the unbelief, the infidelity, to all the filth and sensuality of our wicked nature—to fill up the measure of our iniquities, until we sank under His wrath to rise no more!

"Don’t leave us!" Jeremiah 14:9

An idol is an idol

"Son of man, these leaders have set up idols in their hearts! They have embraced things that lead them into sin." Ezekiel 14:3

An idol is an idol, whether worshiped inwardly in heart, or adorned outwardly by the knee.

Therefore, give the people of Israel this message from the Sovereign Lord: "Repent and turn away from your idols, and stop all your loathsome practices. I, the Lord, will punish all those, both Israelites and foreigners, who reject Me and set up idols in their hearts, so that they fall into sin." Ezekiel 14:6-7

A worldly spirit will ever peep out

"He gave Himself for our sins to rescue us from the present evil age." Galatians 1:4

The first effect of sovereign grace in its divine operation upon the heart of a child of God, is to separate him from the world by infusing into him a new spirit. There is little evidence that grace ever touched our hearts if it did not separate us from this ungodly world.

Where there is not this divine work upon a sinner’s conscience—where there is no communication of this new heart and this new spirit, no infusion of this holy life, no animating, quickening influence of the Spirit of God upon the soul—whatever a man’s outward profession may be, he will ever be of a worldly spirit.

A set of doctrines, however sound, merely received into the natural understanding—cannot divorce a man from that innate love of the world which is so deeply rooted in his very being. No mighty power has come upon his soul to revolutionize his every thought, cast his soul as if into a new mold—and by stamping upon it the mind and likeness of Christ to change him altogether. This worldly spirit may be . . .
checked by circumstances,
controlled by natural conscience, or
influenced by the example of others;
but a worldly spirit will ever peep out from the thickest disguise, and manifest itself, as occasion draws it forth, in every unregenerate man.

What a lesson is here for ministers!

"And my speech and my preaching were not with enticing words of man’s wisdom, but in demonstration of the Spirit and of power" 1 Corinthians 2:4

The word "enticing" is as we now say, "persuasive." It includes, therefore, every branch of skillful oratory, whether it be logical reasoning to convince our understanding—or appeals to our feelings to stir up our passions—or new and striking ideas to delight our intellect—or beautiful and eloquent language to please and captivate our imagination.

All these "enticing words" of man’s wisdom—the very things which our popular preachers most speak and aim at—this great apostle renounced, discarded, and rejected!

He might have used them all if he liked. He possessed an almost unequalled share of natural ability and great learning—a singularly keen, penetrating intellect—a wonderful command of the Greek language—a flow of ideas most varied, striking, and original—and powers of oratory and eloquence such as have been given to few. He might therefore have used enticing words of man’s wisdom, had he wished or thought it right to do so—but he would not. He saw what deceptiveness was in them, and at best they were mere arts of oratory. He saw that these enticing words—though they might . . .
touch the natural feelings,
work upon the passions,
captivate the imagination,
convince the understanding,
persuade the judgment, and to a certain extent force their way into men’s minds—yet when all was done that could thus be done, it was merely man’s wisdom which had done it.

Earthly wisdom cannot communicate heavenly faith. Paul would not therefore use enticing words of man’s wisdom, whether it were force of logical argument, or appeal to natural passions, or the charms of vivid eloquence, or the beauty of poetical composition, or the subtle nicety of well arranged sentences. He would not use any of these enticing words of man’s wisdom to draw people into a profession of religion—when their heart was not really touched by God’s grace, or their consciences wrought upon by a divine power.

He came to win souls for Jesus Christ, not converts to his own powers of oratorical persuasion—to turn men from darkness to light, and from the power of Satan unto God—not to charm their ears by poetry and eloquence—but to bring them out of the vilest of sins that they might be washed, sanctified, and justified by the Spirit of God—and not entertain or amuse their minds while sin and Satan still maintained dominion in their hearts!

All the labor spent in bringing together a church and congregation of professing people by the power of logical argument and appeals to their natural consciences would be utterly lost, as regards fruit for eternity—for a profession so induced by him and so made by them would leave them just as they were . . .
in all the depths of unregeneracy,
with their sins unpardoned,
their persons unjustified,
and their souls unsanctified.

He therefore discarded all these ways of winning over converts—as deceitful to the souls of men, and as dishonoring to God.

It required much grace to do this—to throw aside what he might have used, and renounce what most men, as gifted as he, would have gladly used.

What a lesson is here for ministers!

How anxious are some men to shine as great preachers! How they covet and often aim at some grand display of what they call eloquence to charm their hearers—and win praise and honor to self!

How others try to argue men into religion, or by appealing to their natural feelings, sometimes to frighten them with pictures of hell, and sometimes to allure them by descriptions of heaven.

But all such arts, for they are no better, must be discarded by a true servant of God. Only the Spirit can reveal Christ, taking of the things of Christ, and showing them unto us, applying the word with power to our hearts, and bringing the sweetness, reality, and blessedness of divine things into our soul.

"And my speech and my preaching were not with enticing words of man’s wisdom, but in demonstration of the Spirit and of power."

Unless we have a measure of the same demonstration of the Spirit, all that is said by us in the pulpit drops to the ground—it has no real effect—there is no true or abiding fruit—no fruit unto eternal life. If there be in it some enticing words of man’s wisdom, it may please the mind of those who are gratified by such arts—it may stimulate and occupy the attention for the time—but there it ceases, and all that has been heard fades away like a dream of the night. A peculiar, indescribable, invincible power

"Our gospel did not come to you in word only, but also with power, with the Holy Spirit and with deep conviction." 1 Thessalonians 1:5

The gospel comes to some in word only. They hear the word of the gospel, the sound of truth; but it reaches the outward ear only—or if it touches the inward feelings, it is merely as the word of men.

But where the Holy Spirit begins and carries on His divine and saving work, He attends the word with a peculiar, an indescribable, and yet an invincible power.

It falls as from God upon the heart. He is heard to speak in it—and in it His glorious Majesty appears to open the eyes, unstop the ears, and convey a message from His own mouth to the soul.

Some hear the gospel as the mere word of men, perhaps for years before God speaks in it with a divine power to their conscience. They thought they understood the gospel—they thought they felt it—they thought they loved it. But all this time they did not see any vital distinction between receiving it as the mere word of men, and as the word of God.

The levity, the superficiality, the emptiness stamped upon all who merely receive the gospel as the word of men—is sufficient evidence that it never sank deep into the heart, and never took any powerful grasp upon their soul.

It therefore never brought with it any real separation from the world—never gave strength to mortify the least sin—never communicated power to escape the least snare of Satan—was never attended with a spirit of grace and prayer—never brought honesty, sincerity, and uprightness into the heart before God—never bestowed any spirituality of mind, or any loving affection toward the Lord of life and glory. It was merely the reception of truth in the same way as we receive scientific principles, or learn a language, a business, or a trade. It was all . . .
shallow,
superficial,
deceptive,
hypocritical.

But in some unexpected moment, when little looking for it, the word of God was brought into their conscience with a power never experienced before. A light shone in and through it which they never saw before . . .
a majesty,
a glory,
an authority,
an evidence
accompanied it which they never knew before. And under this light, life, and power they fell down, with the word of God sent home to their heart.

When then Christ speaks the gospel to the heart—when He reveals Himself to the soul—when His word, dropping as the rain and distilling as the dew, is received in faith and love—He is embraced as the chief among ten thousand and the altogether lovely one—He takes His seat upon the affections and becomes enthroned in the heart as its Lord and God.

Is there life in your bosom?

Has God’s power attended the work?

Is the grace of God really in your heart?

Has God spoken to your soul?

Have you heard His voice, felt its power, and fallen under its influence?

"And we also thank God continually because, when you received the word of God, which you heard from us, you accepted it not as the word of men, but as it actually is, the word of God, which is effectually at work in you who believe." 1 Thessalonians 2:13

The deep things of God


"But God has revealed it to us by His Spirit. The Spirit searches all things, even the deep things of God." 1 Corinthians 2:10

The Spirit of God in a man’s bosom searches the deep things of God, so as to lead him into a spiritual and experimental knowledge of them.

What depths do we sometimes see in a single text of Scripture as opened to the understanding, or applied to the heart?

What a depth in the blood of Christ—how it "cleanses from all sin,"—even millions of millions of the foulest sins of the foulest sinners!

What a depth in His bleeding, dying love, that could stoop so low to lift us so high!

What a depth in His pity and compassion to extend itself to such guilty, vile transgressors as we are!

What depth in His rich, free, and sovereign grace, that it should super-abound over all our aggravated iniquities, enormities, and vile abominations!

What depth
in His sufferings—that He should have voluntarily put Himself under such a load of guilt, such outbreakings of the wrath of God—as He felt in His holy soul when He stood in our place to redeem poor sinners from the bottomless pit—that those who deserved hell, should be lifted up into the enjoyment of heaven! The religionists of the day

"And everyone will hate you because of your allegiance to Me." Luke 21:17

Professors of religion have always been the deadliest enemies of the children of God.

Who were so opposed to the blessed Lord as the Scribes and Pharisees? It was the religious teachers and leaders who crucified the Lord of glory!

And so in every age the religionists of the day have been the hottest and bitterest persecutors of the Church of Christ.

Nor is the case altered now. The more the children of God are firm in the truth, the more they enjoy its power, the more they live under its influence, and the more tenderly and conscientiously they walk in godly fear, the more will the professing generation of the day hate them with a deadly hatred.

Let us not think that we can disarm it by a godly life; for the more that we walk in the sweet enjoyment of heavenly truth and let our light shine before men as having been with Jesus, the more will this draw down their hatred and contempt.

"And the world hates them because they do not belong to the world, just as I do not." John 17:14

"My leanness, my leanness, woe unto me!" Isaiah 24:16

There is no more continual source of lamentation and mourning to a child of God than a sense of his own barrenness. He would be fruitful in every good word and work. But when he contrasts . . .
his own miserable unprofitableness,
his coldness and deadness,
his proneness to evil,
his backwardness to good,
his daily wanderings and departings from God,
his depraved affections,
his stupid frames,
his sensual desires,
his carnal projects, and
his earthy grovelings,
with what he sees and knows should be the fruit that should grow upon a fruitful branch in the only true Vine, he sinks down under a sense of his own wretched barrenness and unfruitfulness.

Yet what was the effect produced by all this upon his own soul? To wean him from the creature; to divert him from looking to any for help or hope, but the Lord Himself. It is in this painful way that the Lord often, if not usually, cuts us off from all human props, even the nearest and dearest, that we may lean wholly and solely on Himself.

Those poor stupid people!

"The world knows us not." 1 John 3:1

Both the openly profane world, and the professing world, are grossly ignorant
of the children of God. Their . . .
real character and condition,
state and standing,
joys and sorrows,
mercies and miseries,
trials and deliverances,
hopes and fears,
afflictions and consolations,
are entirely hidden from their eyes.

The world knows nothing of the motives and feelings which guide and actuate the children of God. It views them as a set of gloomy, morose, melancholy beings, whose tempers are soured by false and exaggerated views of religion—who have pored over the thoughts of hell and heaven until some have frightened themselves into despair, and others have puffed up their vain minds with an imaginary conceit of their being especial favorites of the Almighty. "They are really," it says, "no better than other folks, if so good. But they have such contracted minds—are so obstinate and bigoted with their poor, narrow, prejudiced views—that wherever they come they bring disturbance and confusion."

But why this harsh judgment?

Because the world knows nothing of the spiritual feelings which actuate the child of grace, making him act so differently from the world which thus condemns him.

It cannot understand our sight and sense of the exceeding sinfulness of sin—and that is the reason why we will not run riot with them in the same course of ungodliness.

It does not know with what a solemn weight eternal things rest upon our minds—and that that is the cause why we cannot join with them in pursuing so eagerly the things of the world, and living for time as they do—instead of living for eternity.

Being unable to enter into the spiritual motives and gracious feelings which actuate a living soul, and the movements of divine life continually stirring in a Christian breast, they naturally judge us from their own point of view, and condemn what they cannot understand.

You may place a horse and a man upon the same hill—while the man would be looking at the woods and fields and streams—the horse would be feeding upon the grass at his feet. The horse, if it could reason, would say, "What a fool my master is! How he is staring and gaping about! Why does he not sit down and open his basket of provisions—for I know he has it with him, for I carried it—and feed as I do?"

So the worldling says, "Those poor stupid people, how they are spending their time in going to chapel, and reading the Bible in their gloomy, melancholy way. Religion is all very well—and we ought all to be religious before we die—but they make so much of it. Why don’t they enjoy more of life? Why don’t they amuse themselves more with its innocent, harmless pleasures—be more gay, cheerful, and sociable, and take more interest in those things which so interest us?"

The reason why the world thus wonders at us is because it knows us not, and therefore cannot understand that we have . . .
sublimer feelings,
nobler pleasures, and
more substantial delights,
than ever entered the soul of a worldling!

Christian! the more you are conformed to the image of Christ—the more separated you are from the world, the less will it understand you. If we kept closer to the Lord and walked more in holy obedience to the precepts of the gospel, we would be more misunderstood than even we now are! It is our worldly conformity that makes the world understand many of our movements and actions so well.

But if our movements were more according to the mind of Christ—if we walked more as the Lord walked when here below—we would leave the world in greater ignorance of us than we leave it now—for the hidden springs of our life would be more out of its sight, our testimony against it more decided, and our separation from it more complete.

We were not always a set of poor mopes

"Since, then, you have been raised with Christ, set your hearts on things above, where Christ is seated at the right hand of God. Set your minds on things above, not on earthly things. For you died, and your life is now hidden with Christ in God." Colossians 3:1-3

Men’s pursuits and pleasures differ as widely as their station or disposition—but a life of selfish gratification reigns and rules in all.

Now it is by this death that we die unto . . .
the things of time and sense;
to all that charms the natural mind of man;
to the pleasures and pursuits of life;
to that busy, restless world which once held us so fast and firm in its embrace—and whirled us round and round within its giddy dance.

Let us look back. We were not always a set of poor mopes—as the world calls us. We were once as merry and as gay as the merriest and gayest of them.

But what were we really and truly with all our mirth?

Dead to God—alive to sin. Dead to everything holy and divine—alive to everything vain and foolish, light and trifling, carnal and sensual—if not exactly vile and abominable.

Our natural life was with all of us a life of gratifying our senses—with some of us, perhaps, chiefly of pleasure and worldly happiness—with others a life of covetousness, or ambition, or self-righteousness.

Sin once put forth its intense power and allured us—and we followed like the fool to the stocks.

Sin charmed—and we listened to its seductive wiles.

Sin held out its bait—and we too greedily, too heedlessly swallowed the hook.

"May I never boast except in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ, through which the world has been crucified to me, and I to the world." Galatians 6:14 To walk after the flesh

"There is therefore now no condemnation to those who are in Christ Jesus, who walk not after the flesh, but after the Spirit." Romans 8:1

To walk after the flesh carries with it the idea of the flesh going before us—as our leader, guide, and example—and our following close in its footsteps, so that wherever it drags or draws we move after it, as the needle after the magnet.

To walk after the flesh, then, is to move step by step in implicit obedience to . . .
the commands of the flesh,
the lusts of the flesh,
the inclinations of the flesh,
and the desires of the flesh,
whatever shape they assume,
whatever garb they wear,
whatever name they may bear.

To walk after the flesh is to be ever pursuing, desiring, and doing the things that please the flesh, whatever aspect that flesh may wear or whatever dress it may assume—whether molded and fashioned after the grosser and more flagrant ways of the profane world—or the more refined and deceptive religion of the professing church.

But are the grosser and more manifest sinners the only people who may be said to walk after the flesh? Does not all human religion, in all its varied forms and shapes, come under the sweep of this all-devouring sword? Yes! Every one who is entangled in and led by a fleshly religion, walks as much after the flesh as those who are abandoned to its grosser indulgences.

Sad it is, yet not more sad than true, that false religion has slain its thousands, if open sin has slain its ten thousands.

To walk after the flesh, whether it be in the grosser or more refined sense of the term, is the same in the sight of God. The very thought is appalling!

"Once you were alienated from God and were His enemies, separated from Him by your evil thoughts and actions." Colossians 1:21

All man’s sins, comparatively speaking, are but ’motes in the sunbeam’ compared with this giant sin of enmity against God. A man may be given up to fleshly indulgences; he may sin against his fellow creature—may rob, plunder, oppress, even kill his fellow man. But viewed in a spiritual light, what are they compared with the dreadful, the damnable sin of enmity against the great and glorious Majesty of heaven?

This is a sin that lives beyond the grave!

Many sins, though not their consequences, die with man’s body, because they are bodily sins.

But this is a sin that goes into eternity with him, and flares up like a mighty volcano from the very depths of the bottomless pit! Yes, it is the very sin of devils, which therefore binds guilty man down with them in the same eternal chains, and consigns him to the same place of torment!

O the unutterable enmity of the heart against the living God! The very thought is appalling!

How utterly ruined, then, how wholly lost must that man’s state and case be, who lives and dies as he comes into the world . . .
unchanged,
unrenewed,
unregenerated!

I will not dwell longer upon this gloomy subject, on this sad exhibition of human wickedness and misery, though it is needful we should know it for ourselves, that we should have a taste of this bitter cup in our own most painful experience, that we may know the sweetness of the cup of salvation when presented to our lips by free and sovereign grace.

Nothing but the mighty power of God Himself can ever turn this enemy into a friend!

"Once you were alienated from God and were His enemies, separated from Him by your evil thoughts and actions, yet now He has brought you back as His friends. He has done this through His death on the cross in His own human body. As a result, He has brought you into the very presence of God, and you are holy and blameless as you stand before Him without a single fault." Colossians 1:21-22

I will give you rest

Are you ever weary . . .
of the world,
of sin,
of self,
of everything below the skies?

If so, you want something to give you rest.

You look to SELF—it is but shifting sand, tossed here and there with the restless tide, and ever casting up mire and dirt. No holding ground; no anchorage; no rest there.

You look to OTHERS—you see what man is, even the very best of men in their best state—how fickle, how unstable, how changing and changeable; how weak even when willing to help; how more likely to add to, than relieve your distress; if desirous to sympathize with and comfort you in trouble and sorrow, how short his arm to help, how unsatisfactory his aid to relieve! You find no rest there.

You lean upon the WORLD—it is but a broken reed which runs into your hand and pierces you. You find no rest there.

So look where you will, there is no rest for the sole of your foot.

But there is a rest. Our blessed Lord says, "Come to Me, all of you who are weary and carry heavy burdens, and I will give you rest." Matthew 11:28

"That which is highly esteemed among men is an abomination in the sight of God." Luke 16:15

The pride, the ambition, the pleasures, the amusements, in which we see thousands and tens of thousands engaged—and sailing down the stream into a dreadful gulf of eternity—are all an abomination in the sight of God.

Whereas, such things as . . .
faith,
hope,
love,
humility,
brokenness of heart,
tenderness of conscience,
contrition of spirit,
sorrow for sin,
self-loathing,
self-abasement,
looking to Jesus,
taking up the cross,
denying one’s self,
walking in the strait and narrow path that leads to eternal life—in a word, the power of godliness—these things are despised by all—and by none so much as mere heady professors who have a name to live while dead.

"That which is highly esteemed among men is an abomination in the sight of God." Luke 16:15

Invincibly and irresistibly drawn


As the Lord is pleased to enlighten his mind, the Christian sees . . .
such a beauty,
such a blessedness,
such a heavenly sweetness,
such a divine loveliness,
such a fullness of surpassing grace,
such tender condescension,
such unwearied patience,
such infinite compassion,
in the Lord of life and glory—that he is as if invincibly and irresistibly drawn by these attractive influences to come to His feet to learn of Him. So far as the Lord is pleased to reveal Himself in some measure to his soul, by the sweet glimpses and glances which he thus obtains of His Person and countenance, he is drawn to His blessed Majesty by cords of love to look up unto Him and beg of Him that He would drop His word with life and power into his heart.

Woman’s chief besetting sins

"The Lord will strip away their artful beauty—their ornaments, headbands, and crescent necklaces; their earrings, bracelets, and veils. Gone will be their scarves, ankle chains, sashes, perfumes, and charms; their rings, jewels, party clothes, gowns, capes, and purses; their mirrors, linen garments, head ornaments, and shawls." Isaiah 3:18-23

"The Lord will wash away the filth of the women of Zion." Isaiah 4:4

These women of Zion are typical representatives of women professing godliness in all ages. The Lord looked at their hearts, and the motives of their gaudy attire. There He saw pride, luxury, love of dress and admirationwoman’s chief besetting sins—and all this was in His eyes so much filth!

But as I do not wish to be too hard upon the women, I may say, that we men have our hidden filth to as great, or worse degree, than they. In us there are . . .
many secret and powerful lusts,
much hypocrisy, self-righteousness, pride, and
various other sinful and sensual abominations.

You are not your own!

"You are not your own! For you are bought with a price—therefore glorify God in your body, and in your spirit, which are God’s." 1 Corinthians 6:19

Your eyes are not your own—that you may feed your lusts, that you may go about gaping, and gazing, and looking into every shop window to see the fashions of the day—learn the prevailing pride of life—and thus lay up food for your vain mind—either in coveting what must be unfitting to your profession—or applying your money to an improper use—or being disappointed because you cannot afford to buy it.

Your ears are not your own—that you may listen to every foolish tale—drink in every political, worldly, or carnal report which may fall upon them—and thus feed that natural desire for news, gossip, and even slander—which is the very element of the carnal mind.

Your tongue is not your own—that you may speak what you please, and blurt out whatever passes in the chambers of your heart, without check or fear.

Your hands are not your own—that you may use them as implements of evil—or employ them in any other way than to earn with them an honest livelihood. Our hands were not given us for sin—but for godly uses.

Your feet are not your own—that you may walk in the ways of the world—or that they should carry you to haunts where all around you are engaged upon errands of vanity and sin.

All must be held according to the disposal of God, and under a sense of our obligations to Him.

But perhaps you will say, in the rebellion of your carnal mind, "What restraint all this lays upon us. Cannot we look with our eyes as we like—hear with our ears as we please—and speak with our tongues as we choose? Will you so narrow our path that we are to have nothing of our own—not even our time or money, our body or soul? Surely we may have a little enjoyment now and then—a little recreation, a little holiday sometimes, a little relaxation from being always so strict and so religious—a little feeding of our carnal mind which cannot bear all this restraint?"

Well, but what will you bring upon yourself by . . .
the roving eye,
the foolish tongue,
the loose hand,
the straying foot?

Darkness, bondage, guilt, misery, death!

"But," you say, "we are not to be tied up so tightly as all this! We have gospel liberty, but you will not allow us even that!"

Yes, blessed be God, there is gospel liberty, for there is no real happiness in religion without it; but not liberty to sin—not liberty to gratify the lusts of the flesh—not liberty to act contrary to the gospel we profess, and the precepts of God’s Word—for this is not liberty but licentiousness.

"You are not your own! For you are bought with a price—therefore glorify God in your body, and in your spirit, which are God’s." 1 Corinthians 6:19

Do you seek you great things for yourself?

"Do you seek you great things for yourself? Seek them not!" Jeremiah 45:5

O the pride of man’s heart! How it will work and show itself even under a guise of religion and holiness!

Few can see that in religion, what are considered great things—are really very little; and what are considered little—are really very great. How few can see that . . .
a broken heart,
a contrite spirit,
a humble mind,
a tender conscience,
a meek, quiet, and patient bearing of the cross,
a believing submission and resignation to the will of God,
a looking to Him alone, for all supplies in providence and grace,
a continual seeking of His face,
a desiring nothing so much as the visitations of His favor,
a loving, affectionate, forbearing, and forgiving spirit,
a bearing of injuries and reproaches without retaliation,
a liberal heart and hand, and
a godly, holy, and separate life and walk—are the things which in God’s sight are great. While a knowledge of doctrine, clear insight into gospel mysteries, and a ready speech are really very little things—and are often to be found side by side and hand in hand with a proud, covetous, worldly, unhumbled spirit, and a living in what is sinful and evil.

How many ministers are seeking after great giftsthirsting after popularity, applause, and acceptance among men! They are not satisfied with being simply and solely what God may make them by His Spirit and gracewith the blessing which He may make them to a scattered few here and there. This inferior position, as they consider it, so beneath their grace and gifts, their talents and abilitiesdoes not satisfy their restless mind and aspiring desires. Their ambition is . . .
to stand at the very head of their peers,
be looked up to and sought after as a leader and a guide,
have a larger building,
have a fuller congregation,
have a better salary, and
have a wider field for the display of their gifts and abilities.
Gladly would they . . .
stand apart from all others,
brook no rival to their ’pulpit throne’, and
be lord paramount at home and abroad.

And what is the consequence of this proud, ambitious spirit? What envy, what jealousy, what detraction do we see in men who want to stand at the top of the tree! How, again and again, do they seek to rise by standing, as it wereon the slain bodies of others!

"Do you seek you great things for yourself? Seek them not!" Jeremiah 45:5

We would not be such muck-worms!

"I pray also that the eyes of your heart may be enlightened—in order that you may know the hope to which He has called you—what a rich and glorious inheritance He has given to His people." Ephesians 1:18

If the Spirit would but enlighten the eyes of our heart, how this would lift us up out of the mud and mire of this wretched world! We would not be such muck-worms, raking and scraping a few straws together—or running about like ants with our morsel of grain! We would have our affections fixed more on things above. We would . . .
know more of Christ,
enjoy more of Christ,
be more like Christ,
walk more like Christ walked, and
look forward to our glorious inheritance.

If these things were brought into our hearts with divine power—how they would sweeten every bitter cup, and carry us through every changing scene, until at last we were landed above—to see the Lord as He is, in the full perfection of His infinite glory!

The multitude of Your tender mercies

"Have mercy upon me, O God, according to Your loving-kindness—according unto the multitude of Your tender mercies blot out my transgressions." Psalms 51:1

What a sweet expression it is—and how it seems to convey to our mind that God’s mercies do not fall ’drop by drop’—but are as innumerable . . ..
as the sand upon the sea-shore;
as the stars that stud the midnight sky;
as the drops of rain that fill the clouds before they discharge their copious showers upon the earth.

It is the multitude of His mercies that makes Him so merciful a God. He does not give but a drop or two of mercy—that would soon be gone, like the rain which fell this morning under the hot sun. But His mercies flow like a river! There is in Him . . .
a multitude of mercies,
for a multitude of sins,
and a multitude of sinners!

This felt and received in the love of it—breaks, humbles, softens, and melts a sensible sinner’s heart—and he says, "What, sin against such mercies? What, when the Lord has remembered me in my low estate, and manifested once more a sense of His mercy? What, shall I go on to provoke Him again—walk inconsistently again—be entangled in Satan’s snares again? O, forbid it God, forbid it gospel, forbid it tender conscience, forbid it every constraint of dying love!"

"Have mercy upon me, O God, according to Your loving-kindness—according unto the multitude of Your tender mercies blot out my transgressions." Psalms 51:1
Can Christ love one like me?

"To grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, and to know this love that surpasses knowledge." Ephesians 3:17-19

You may wonder sometimes—and it is a wonder that will fill heaven itself with anthems of eternal praise—how such a glorious Jesus can ever look down from heaven upon such crawling reptiles, on such worms of earth—what is more, upon such sinners who have provoked Him over and over again by their misdeeds. Yes, how this exalted Christ, in the height of His glory, can look down from heaven on such poor, miserable, wretched creatures as we—this is the mystery that fills angels with astonishment!

We feel we are such crawling reptiles—such undeserving creatures—and are so utterly unworthy of the least notice from Him, that we say, "Can Christ love one like me? Can the glorious Son of God cast an eye of pity and compassion, love and tenderness upon one like me—who can scarcely at times bear with myself—who sees and feels myself one of the vilest of the vile, and the worst of the worst? O, what must I be in the sight of the glorious Son of God?"

And yet, He says, "I have loved you with an everlasting love." His love has breadths, and lengths, and depths, and heights unknown!

Its breadth exceeds all human span; its length outvies all creature line; its depth surpasses all finite measurement; its height excels even angelic computation!

Because His love is . . .
so wondrous,
so deep,
so long,
so broad,
so high;
it is so suitable to our every want and woe.

"To grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, and to know this love that surpasses knowledge." Ephesians 3:17-19 A woman’s best ornament

"Don’t be concerned about the outward beauty that depends on fancy hairstyles, expensive
jewelry, or beautiful clothes. You should be known for the beauty that comes from within, the unfading beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which is so precious to God." 1 Peter 3:3-4

This "beauty that comes from within" is that . . .
meekness,
quietness,
gentleness,
brokenness of heart,
contrition of spirit,
humility of mind,
tenderness of conscience,
which are fitting to the children of God.

A gentle and quiet spirit is a woman’s best ornament.

As to other gay and unbecoming ornaments, let those wear them, who wish to serve and to enjoy . . .
the lust of the flesh,
the lust of the eyes,
and the pride of life.

Let the "daughters of Zion" manifest they have other ornaments than what the world admires and approves. Let them covet . . .
the teachings of God,
the smiles of His love,
the whispers of His favor.
The more they have of these, the less will they care for the adornments which the "daughters of Canaan" run so madly after; by which also they often impoverish themselves, and by opening a way for admiration, too often open a way for seduction and ruin.

O you filthy creature!


"Oh, what a miserable person I am! Who will free me from this life that is dominated by sin?" Romans 7:24

No doubt you have your enemies—and so have we all.

But I will tell you where you have an enemy—and a greater enemy than ever you have found in others—yourself! I have often felt that I could do myself more harm in five minutes, than all my enemies could do me in fifty years! I need not fear what others may do or say—I fear myself more than them all—knowing what I am as a sinner—the strength of sin—and the power of temptation.

Be sure of this—that YOU are the worst enemy you ever had . . .
your sin,
your lust,
your covetousness,
your pride,
your self-righteousness.

God Himself will make you feel your enemy. You shall see something of his accursed designs; how sin has deceived you, betrayed you, brought guilt upon your conscience, and made you a burden to yourself. You shall be brought to feel, and say, "There is nothing I hate so much as my own vile heart—my own dreadfully corrupt nature. O what an enemy do I carry in my own bosom! Of all my enemies, he is surely the worst! Of all my foes, he is the most subtle and strong!"

Have you not sometimes felt as though you could take your lusts by the neck and dash their heads against a stone? Have you not felt you could take out of your breast this vile, damnable heart, lay it upon the ground, and stamp upon it? And when tempted with . . .
pride,
or unbelief,
or infidelity,
or blasphemy,
or any hateful lust,
how you have cried out again and again with anguish of spirit, "O this heart of mine!"

We hate our sins, and would, if possible, have no more to do with them, and would say to this lust, idol, or temptation, "O you filthy creature! What an enemy you are to my soul! O that I could forever be done with you!"

"Oh, what a miserable person I am! Who will free me from this life that is dominated by sin? Thanks be to God! The answer is in Jesus Christ our Lord." Romans 7:24-25

You never knew what real happiness was!

One false charge against the children of God, is that they are a poor, moping, miserable people, who . . .
know nothing of happiness,
renounce all cheerfulness, mirth, and gladness,
hang their heads down all their days like a bulrush,
are full of groundless fears,
nurse the gloomiest thoughts in a kind of melancholy,
grudge others the least enjoyment of pleasure and happiness,
and try to make everyone else as dull and as miserable as their dull and miserable selves.

Is not this a false charge?

You know—that you never had any real happiness in the things of time and sense—that under all your ’pretended gaiety’ there was real gloom—that every ’sweet’ was drenched with bitterness—that vexation was stamped upon all that is called pleasure and enjoyment.

You never knew what real happiness was, until you knew the Lord, and were blessed with His presence, and some manifestation of His goodness and mercy! Were it no bigger than a child’s doll

"I will cleanse you from all your idols." Ezekiel 36:25

Idolatry takes a wide range. There are ’respectable’ idols and ’vulgar’ idols—just as there are marble statues, and other objects of worship made up of shells and feathers. And yet each will still be an idol.

Respectable idols we can admire—vulgar idols we detest. But an idol is an idol—however respectable, or however vulgar—however admired, or however despised they may be.

But O how numerous are these respectable idols!

Love of money, ambition, craving after human applause, desire to rise in the world; all these we may think are natural desires that may be lawfully gratified. But O, what idols may they turn out to be!

But there are more secret and more dangerous idols. You may have a husband, or wife, or child—whom you love almost as much as yourself—you bestow upon this idol of yours all the affections of your heart. Nothing is too good for it, nothing too dear for it.

You don’t see how this is an idol.

But, whatever you love more than God, whatever you worship more than God,
whatever you crave for more than God, is an idol.

It may lurk in the chambers of imagery—you may scarcely know how fondly you love it. But let God take that idol out of your breast—let Him pluck that idol from its niche—and you will then find how you have allowed your affections to wander after that idol and loved it more than God Himself. It is when the idol is taken away, removed, dethroned—that we learn what an idol it has been.

How we hug and embrace our idols!

How we cleave to them!

How we delight in them!

How we bow down to them!

How we seek gratification from them!

How little are we aware what affections entwine around them—how little are we aware that they claim what God has reserved for Himself when He said, "My son, give Me your heart."

Many a weeping widow learns for the first time that her husband was an idol. Many a mourning husband learns for the first time how too dearly, how too fondly, how too idolatrously he loved his wife. Many a man does not know how dearly he loves money until he incurs some serious loss. Many do not know how dearly they hold name, fame, and reputation until some slanderous blight seems to touch that tender spot. Few indeed seem to know how dear SELF is,
until God takes it out of its niche and sets Himself there in its room.

Self, pride, reputation, the love of money the love of name and fame—these idols you cannot take with you into the courts of heaven. How would God be moved to jealousy if you could you carry an idolwere it no bigger than a child’s dollinto the courts above!

"I will cleanse you from all your idols." Ezekiel 36:25 Your filth will be washed away!

O, what loathsome monsters of iniquity—how polluted, filthy, and vile do we feel ourselves to be—when the guilt of our sin is charged home upon our conscience! Have you not sometimes loathed yourselves on account of your abominations? Has not the filth of your sin sometimes disgusted you; the opening up of that horrible, that ever running sewer, which you daily carry about with you?

We complain, and justly complain—of a reeking sewer which runs through a street—or of a ditch filled with everything disgusting. But do we feel as much—do we complain as often—of the foul sewer which is ever running in our soul—of the filthy ditch in our own bosom?

As the sight of this open sewer meets our eyes—and its stench enters our nostrils, it fills us with self-loathing and self-abhorrence before the eyes of a holy God.

"Then I will sprinkle clean water on you, and you will be clean. Your filth will be washed away!" Ezekiel 36:25-26

Php 3:7

"But whatever was to my profit I now consider loss for the sake of Christ." Php 3:7

This includes the loss . . .
of all your fancied holiness,
of all your vaunted strength,
of all your natural or acquired wisdom,
of all your boasted knowledge;
in a word, of everything in creature religion of which the heart is proud, and in which it takes delight.

All, all must be counted loss for Christ’s sake—all, all must be sacrificed to His bleeding, dying love.

Our dearest joys, our fondest hopes, our most cherished idols, must all sink and give way to the grace, blood, and love of an incarnate God.

Strangers & Pilgrims

"They confessed that they were strangers and pilgrims on the earth." Hebrews 11:13

You feel yourself a stranger in this ungodly world; it is not your element—it is not your home. You are in it during God’s appointed time—but you wander up and down this world a stranger . . .
to its company,
to its maxims,
to its fashions,
to its principles,
to its motives,
to its lusts,
to its inclinations, and
all in which this world moves as in its native element.

Grace has separated you by God’s distinguishing power, that though you are in the world, you are not of it. You feel yourself to be a stranger here—as David says, "a stranger and a sojourner, as all my fathers were."

I can tell you plainly . . .
if you are at home in the world;
if the things of time and sense are your element;
if you feel one with . . .
the company of the world,
the maxims of the world,
the fashions of the world,
the principles of the world,
grace has not reached your heart—the faith of God’s elect does not dwell in your bosom.

The first effect of grace is to SEPARATE.

It was so in the case of Abraham. He was called by grace to leave the land of his fathers and go out into a land that God would show him.

And so God’s own word to His people is now, "Come out from among them, and be separate."

Separation, separation, separation from the world is the grand distinguishing mark of vital godliness!

There may be indeed separation of body where there is no separation of heart. But what I mean is . . .
separation of heart,
separation of principle,
separation of affection,
separation of spirit.

And if grace has touched your heart and you are a partaker of the faith of God’s elect—you are a stranger in the world, and will make it manifest by your life and conduct that you are such.

But they were also pilgrims—that is, sojourners through weary deserts—longing, longing for home, possessing nothing in which they could take pleasure—feeling the weariness of a long journey and anxious for rest.

Are you not at times almost worn out by . . .
sin,
self,
trials,
temptations,
afflictions;
so that you would gladly lay down your weary body in the grave—that your soul might rest in the sweet enjoyment of the King of kings?

If such is your spirit, you have something of the spirit of the pilgrim sojourning in a weary land, and and longing for . . .
rest,
happiness,
and peace
in a better country.

"But they desire a better place—a heavenly homeland." Hebrews 11:16

Everything we make is available for free because of a generous community of supporters.

Donate