07.05. Volume 5
JEWELS from JAMES (Choice devotional selections from the works of John Angell James)
This is what the Lord says: "I am going to remove you from the face of the earth.
This may be the case with any one of the readers of the present address, and therefore every one of them should seriously reflect upon such a possibility.
This year you may die—for you must die some time—and that time may as likely come this year as any other.
This year you may die—because you have no revelation from God that you shall not.
This year you may die—because you are ever and everywhere exposed to the causes that take away life.
This year you may die—because life is the most uncertain thing in the world, and you have not the assurance of a single moment beyond the present.
This year you may die—for it is all but certain that many of the readers of this address will die this year—and why not you?
This year you may die, although there is now no indication of approaching death; for many during the past year have been cut off, and many during the present year will die, who may now seem very likely to live—and why not you?
How many, then, are the probabilities that before next new year’s day, your place will be vacant in the family, at the scene of your daily occupation, and in the house of God! Ought not this to induce a habit of solemn, pensive, devout, practical, profitable, reflection. Bring home the thought. Take up the supposition, and say, "Yes, it is possible, by no means improbable, that I may die—this year!"
Are you really prepared for your latter end, by being a partaker of genuine faith, the new birth, a holy life, and a heavenly mind? Or are you a mere nominal professor, having a name to live, while you are dead? Do you recognize in yourselves, and do others see in you, the marks of a state of grace? Put the question to your own hearts, ask yourselves, "What am I? Am I a spiritual, heavenly, humble servant of God? Am I really crucified with Christ, dead to the world, ripening for glory? Is there anything heavenly about me? Is my temper sanctified, my walk consistent?"
Is your soul in that state in which you would desire it to be found when death strikes? Are you, in your devotional habits, your temper, your general behavior,
as you should be—with eternity so near? Would you desire to die—just as you are now?
How many false professors will be unmasked this year, and appear with astonishment and horror, as self-deceivers, formalists, and hypocrites! How many in reply to the plea, "Lord, Lord, I ate and drank in your presence"—will hear the dreadful response, "Depart from me, I never knew you!" and thus find
there is a way to the bottomless pit—from the fellowship of the church! In whatever state you die this year—that you will be forever! The seal of eternal destiny will be put upon you! Your last words in time, and your first in eternity, might be, "I must be what I am—forever!"
The grand secret is about to be revealed, whether you are a child of God—or a child of the devil! That next moment after death—which imagination in vain attempts to paint, is to arrive—and, waking up in eternity, you will shout with rapture, "I am in heaven!"—or utter with a shriek of despair, and surprise, the dreadful question, "What! Am I in hell forever!"
Reader! Did you ever, in serious moments, and in a serious manner, ask such questions as these:
What am I?
Where did I come from?
Who sent me here?
What is my business in this world?
What is to become of me when I die, and leave this present world?
Does not reason press such inquiries on your attention? You find yourself in existence, possessing a rational soul; you know you cannot remain here long, and must soon go and lie down in the grave with your forefathers. But does your history end there? Is there no world beyond the tomb? There is! You are not only mortal, but immortal.
Immortality! What a word! What a thing! Did you ever ponder the idea? A deathless creature—with an everlasting existence! Such is your soul. You are
Eternal duration alone, apart from the consideration whether it is to be spent in torment or in bliss—is a solemn idea. You are to live somewhere—forever! Should this matter be allowed to lie forgotten among the thousand unconsidered subjects? Should it be treated with indifference, excite no reflection, produce no concern? Ought you not to be concerned? Going on step by step to eternity—should you not pause, ponder, and say, "Where am I going?"
For a person to realize that he is immortal, and yet to care nothing about where he is going to spend eternity, is the most monstrous inconsistency in the universe!
Can any man know . . .how holy God is, how evil a thing sin is, how great a blessing salvation is, how glorious heaven is, how dreadful hell is, how solemn eternity is, and not not be concerned about his eternal soul?
Astounding spectacle! A rational creature, anxious about a thousand things, yet not concerned about the eternal soul! Agitated, perplexed, inquisitive about little matters of mere passing interest, which the next day will be forgotten; and yet neglecting that great subject, which swallows them all up, as the ocean does the drops of rain that fall upon it. Your health, your property, your prospects, your
friends, anything, everything, but your soul, and your soul’s salvation, seizes and carries you away!
Did you ever weigh the import of that most awful of all words—hell?
Death is a dreadful monosyllable! From the cold touch of that ’last enemy’ all rational beings recoil with horror.
But death is only as the dark, heavy, iron-covered door of the prison, which opens to, while it conceals, the sights and sounds of the dungeon. Oh that first moment after death! what disclosures, what scenes, what feelings come with that moment! That moment must come—and it may come soon!
Immorality, whether public or private, if it spreads through society, and especially through the rising generation, will be a canker to all that is great, glorious, and free, in this noble nation; and England’s flag, floating so loftily and proudly, will be dragged down into the mud, and trampled underfoot by a swinish generation!
Be thankful, be humble, be consistent, be watchful. There is no logic so convincing, no rhetoric so persuasive, as
"This one thing I do. Forgetting the things which are behind, and stretching forward to the things which are before, I press on toward the goal for the prize of the high calling of God in Christ Jesus." (Php 3:13-14)
There are many secondary and subordinate ends of life, but there can be only one that is supreme. The salvation of the immortal soul, and a preparation for heaven, form the great end of man’s life upon earth.
Man has but
Our one thing, our chief end of life, is the same as Paul’s, the pursuit of glory, honor, immortality; our hope is the possession of eternal life. There it is before you in all its simplicity, and, we may add, in all its sublimity.
True piety will guard you from the snares to which youth are ever and everywhere exposed. It will . . .comfort you in sorrow, cheer you in solitude, guide you in perplexity.
Ah, my friend, let me tell you in the beginning of your career, that you cannot expect too little from man—nor too much from God.
Many are discouraged by witnessing
They see so much worldly-mindedness, so much imperfection of temper, so many things unworthy of the Christian character, that they can scarcely believe there is reality in religion, and are sometimes ready to give it all up as a mere name. Nay, from some of these very professors they receive plain hints that they are too concerned, too precise, too earnest and urgent.
It is amazing,
torments of hell.
Was not Judas convinced of sin, and did not he weep bitterly and confess his sin, and was not he filled with remorse? Was not Cain convinced of sin? I have known many people, who at one time appeared to be more deeply impressed with a sense of sin, and to have stronger convictions and remorse, than many who were truly converted—and yet they went back again to the world and sin. Nor is a detestation of sin always a true sign of conversion. Unconverted people may even wish to be delivered from the fetters of those corrupt lusts, which have long held them fast; for there are few notorious sinners, who do not frequently hate their sins, and wish and purpose to reform. Yes, people may sometimes desire to be delivered from all sin; at least they may desire it in a certain way, because they think that it is necessary in order to be saved from hell.
And as conviction of sin may exist without conversion, so may religious joy. The stony ground hearers "heard the word, and with joy received it," and yet they had "no root in themselves, and endured only for a while." The Galatians had great blessedness at one time, which the apostle was afraid had come to nothing. Multitudes rejoiced in Christ when he made His entrance into Jerusalem, who afterwards became His enemies. Many take great pleasure in hearing sermons, and going to prayer-meetings, and singing hymns, and frequenting church meetings, who are not truly born of the Spirit. So also do many people leave off sinful actions, and give up many wicked practices, and seem to be quite altered for a time, and yet, by their subsequent history, show
that they are not converted.
There may be considerable zeal for the outward concerns of religion, as we see in Jehu, without any right state of mind towards God. Many have had great confidence of the reality of their conversion; they have had dreams and spiritual impressions, as they suppose—and yet too plainly proved, by their after-conduct, that they were under an awful delusion. But it would be almost
endless to point out the various ways in which men deceive themselves, as to their state. Millions who have been somewhat, yes, much concerned about religion, have never been born again of the Spirit. Perhaps as many are lost by self-deception, as by any other means. Hell resounds with the groans and lamentations of souls which perished through the power of deceived hearts!
Repentance is more, much more than ’mere sorrow for sin’. True sorrow for sin is a part, and only a part, of repentance. If mere sorrow comprised the whole of repentance, then Cain, Ahab, and Judas all repented!
Repentance signifies an entire change of a man’s views, disposition, and conduct, with respect to sin.
The author of repentance is the Holy Spirit—it is the effect of Divine grace working in the heart of man.
No man knows what sin is, and how sinful he is, who does not clearly see that he has deserved to be cast into "the lake which burns with fire and brimstone."
"You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind; and you shall love your neighbor as yourself."
Alarming representation! Have you thus loved God, and your neighbor? Confounding and overwhelming question! What a state of sin have you been living in! Your whole life has been sin, for you have not loved God! And not to love God, is
When man was created, he was created holy—and consequently happy. He was not only placed in a paradise which was without sin—but he was blessed with a paradise within him. His perfect holiness was as much the Eden of his soul, as the garden which he tilled was the Eden of his bodily senses—it was in the inward paradise of a holy mind that he walked in communion with God. The ’fall’ cast him out ofthis ’heaven upon earth’ . . . his understanding became darkened, his heart became corrupted, his will became perverted, his nature became earthly, sensual, and devilish.
Not only was his conscience laden with guilt, but, as a necessary consequence, his imagination was full of terror and dread of that holy God, whose voice and presence formerly imparted nothing but transport to his soul. He became afraid of God, and unfit for him. His whole soul became the seat of fleshly appetites and sinful passions.
In his former innocence he had loved God supremely. He had been united to God by a feeling of dependence and devotedness. But now he was cut off from both these feelings, and came under the domination of an absorbing and engrossing selfishness. Such is the sinful nature he has transmitted to all his posterity. They are . . .not only guilty—but depraved; not only under the wrath of God—but robbed of His image; not only condemned by God—but alienated from Him.
True it is, that hell will be some place set apart for the wicked, where the justice of God will consign them to the misery which their sins have deserved.
Hence, then, the design of the death of Christ is not only to deliver us from the penalty of sin, but also from the polluting consequences of sin.
"As newborn babes, desire the sincere milk of the word, that you may grow thereby." (1 Peter 2:2)
And as those infants thrive best who are fed from the bosom of their mothers—so those Christians grow most in grace, who are most devoted to a
spiritual perusal of the Scriptures.
Meditate on what you read. If we would gain knowledge from books, we must not only see the matters treated of, but steadily ponder them. Nothing but meditation can enable us to properly understand or feel. In reading the Scriptures and pious books, we are, or should be, reading for eternity. Our profiting depends not on the quantity we read, but the quantity we understand.
"Let us rejoice and be glad in His
What a blessing is salvation! A blessing that includes . . .all the riches of grace;
all the greater riches of glory; deliverance from sin, death, and hell; the possession of pardon, peace, holiness, and heaven!
Salvation is a blessing immense, infinite, everlasting; which occupied the mind of Deity from eternity, was procured by the Son of God upon the cross, and will
fill eternity with its happiness.
Oh, how little, insignificant, and contemptible is the highest object of human ambition, to say nothing of the baser matters of men’s desires, compared with
salvation! Riches, rank, fame, and honors, are but as the small dust of the balance, when compared with the "salvation which is in Christ Jesus with eternal glory."
"My mouth will tell about Your righteousness and Your salvation all day long, though I cannot sum them up." Psalms 71:15
"He alone is my rock and my salvation, my stronghold; I will not be shaken." Psalms 62:6
Reader! You are an immortal creature, a being born for eternity, a creature that will never go out of existence. Millions of ages, as numerous as . . .the sands upon the shore, the drops of the ocean, the leaves of all the forests on the globe, will not shorten the duration of your existence.
Reader, whoever you are, you will remember the contents of this small treatise, either with pleasure and gratitude in heaven—or with remorse and despair in hell!
We need to re-study our Bibles
What separation from the world, what devoutness, what intense earnestness, what conscientiousness, what enlarged benevolence, what unselfishness, what zealous activity, what unearthliness, what seeds of celestial virtue—our profession of godliness implies.
Having examined this, and obtained an impressive idea of it, let us survey our own state, and ask if we do not need, and ought not to seek, more of the
prevalence of such a piety as this, which, in fact, is primitive Christianity.
Is our spiritual condition what it ought to be, what it might be, what it must be—to fulfill our high commission as the salt of the earth and the light of the world? A Christian, acting up in some tolerable measure to his profession, walking in the holiness of the Gospel—is the strongest and most emphatic
testimony for God to our dark revolted world, next to that of Christ himself.
I would ask
Do we not see, almost everywhere, instead of these things, a superficial, secular, and temporizing kind of piety; a piety without any depth of feeling, any power of principle, or any distinctness of character; a cold, spiritless orthodoxy, united with a heartless morality; a mere exemption from gross vice and fashionable amusements; an observance of forms and decencies—but a lamentable destitution of love, of Christian temper, and tenderness of conscience?
Enter the social spheres of professing Christians, listen to their conversation, witness their entertainments, observe their spirit. How frivolous, how worldly, how different from what might be expected from redeemed sinners, from the heirs of immortality, from the expectants of everlasting glory!
Follow them home to their domestic circle, and behold their pervading temper—how irascible, how worldly, how destitute of spirituality! Witness the cold and lifeless formality—the late, hurried, irregular, and undevout seasons of their family devotions, together with the shameful neglect of the pious instruction of their children! Witness the shortness and inconstancy of their times for private prayer, and think how little communion with God, how little study of the Scriptures, how little self-improvement, can be carried on during such fragments of time, snatched from the greedy and all-devouring passion of earthly-mindedness!
The spirit of prayer is expiring amidst the ashes of its own dead forms, and the Bible reduced, in many houses of professing Christians, to the degradation of a mere article of furniture, placed there for show—but not for use.
Who will deny that this is but too correct a representation of modern piety; or admitting it, deny the need in which our churches stand of a revival?
"As the One who called you is holy, you also are to be holy in every aspect of your life; for it is written—Be holy, because I am holy." (1 Peter 1:15-16)
If we would increase in holiness, we should pray, "O God, let my soul prosper and be in health, at all events! Improve my personal piety, my Christian temperament and spirit, though it be at the sacrifice of my temporal comfort. Supply my deficiencies, mortify my corruptions, increase my spirituality, and enkindle in my heart the flame of holy love, though it be necessary, in order to accomplish this purpose, to diminish my worldly ease and enjoyments."
Ah! are we prepared to say this?
A languid and feeble plant
I come now to the state of piety in your own hearts. Is it so lively, so vigorous, so elevated, as it should be? Consider what our profession amounts to, what our principles are, what our creed includes.
We believe that we are immortal creatures, going on to eternity, and that we shall exist through everlasting ages in inconceivable torment or felicity; that we are sinners by nature and practice against God—and as such, under the sentence of the divine law, which sentence is eternal death, an everlasting sense and endurance of the wrath of God; that we have been delivered from our state of condemnation through the sovereign, rich, and efficacious grace of God, granted to us through the mediation of Jesus Christ; that we are pardoned, and in a state of favor with Jehovah; that we are going on to glory, honor, immortality, and eternal life, and shall dwell forever with Christ and his saints and angels, in glory everlasting; that we are redeemed by Jesus Christ and purified from iniquity to be a peculiar people, zealous for good works, and designed to show forth the praise of God by the beauties of holiness.
Are not these our principles and profession? Think, then, what kind of people ought we to be, in all holy conversation and godliness; how dead to the world, caring but little about its profits and losses, its pains and pleasures; how heavenly in our anticipations and aspirations; how spiritual in our thoughts and feelings; how devotional in our habits; how self-denying in all our gratifications; how fond of the Holy Scriptures, and devoted to the perusal of them; how given to meditation and contemplation, to private prayer and self-communion; how devoted to communion with God, and how impressed with a sense of the unutterable, inconceivable love of Christ; how replete with love to our brethren, and benevolence to the whole family of man!
Should it not be seen by others, as well as felt by ourselves, that we look not at the things which are seen and temporal—but at the things which are unseen and eternal? that our eye, our hope, our heart, are upon eternity?
But is this, indeed, our state, or the state of Christians in general? Do they indeed live the life of that faith, and painful mortification, and habitual restraint, and aspiring spirituality, and heavenly-mindedness—which are so often inculcated in the Word of God, as the very essence of vital and experimental Christianity?
What do we know in this age, when profession is easy and piety generally safe from persecution. We abstain from immoralities, and public amusements, and from many private engagements which are the symbols of love to the world—and to these things we add an attendance upon an evangelical ministry, and the forms of domestic and private piety—and all this so far is well. But as to the real culture of the heart; the mortification of the corrupt and earthly affections of the soul; the deep sense of the love of Christ; the withdrawal of our affections from the world, to set them on things above; the high communing of our spirits with God; the blissful anticipation of an eternity to be spent with the Lord Jesus; the conflicts and the triumphs of the fight of faith—of these things, alas! we know little but the names, and are ready, in some cases, to wonder what they mean. Yet are they all continually alluded to in the Scriptures.
I am well convinced that the piety of the present day is
It is greatly to be feared, that in these times of peace and prosperity in the church, many have entered her gates, and joined her fellowship—who know nothing at all of spiritual religion, and whose example and spirit exert a deadening influence upon others.
I now mention, as a second fault—
But in what does self-denial consist? Not in the self-imposed austerities of Catholicism or hermitism; nor in the self-inflicted penances of superstition—nor in the privation of the sober and moderate enjoyment of the lawful gratifications of our compound nature. Grace is not at war, any more than Reason, with the instincts of humanity; the Creator has not implanted these in our nature to be violently torn up by the Redeemer and Sanctifier. All that piety does with them, is to keep them in due subjection to itself; not to eradicate them—but so far to crop their excessive growth as to prevent their overshading and chilling our virtues. To the wearer of sackcloth, the wallower in filth, the half-starved abstinent, the recluse of the cell, God says, "Who has required this at your hand?" This is not self-denial—but self-degradation, a disgusting caricature of the virtue recommended by our Lord. It is self-gratification under a hideous form; self-pleasing in a way of self-torture; the worship of self in a Moloch shape.
Self-denial means the subjection of all the promptings of self-love to the will of God. It is the surrender of ourselves to God, to do his will and please him in the way of his commandments, rather than ourselves. In other words, it is to prefer known and prescribed duty, to selfish gratification. This state of mind will develop itself in various ways. If anyone has injured us, Christian duty says, "Freely forgive him." Sinful self says, "Retaliate." The maxim of the devil says, "Revenge is sweet;" and sinful self affirms the same. Revenge is self-indulgence—forgiveness, with our corrupt hearts, is self-denial. So also, in a different case, if we have injured another, reason, piety, conscience, all say, "Confess your fault." The evil heart says, "No, I cannot thus humble myself." Self-denial requires confession—self-indulgence resists it.
So again, the whole business of internal sanctification, in our present imperfect state, is a course of self-denial. We are to "mortify our members," to "crucify the flesh," to "keep under our body." All this implies and requires self-denial—for it is a resistance rather than a gratification of our sinful nature. Indeed, the whole course of the Christian life is one continued habit of self-denial, or the subjection of our sinful self to our renewed and holy self.
Self-denial requires often the sacrifice of personal and relative gratification for the benefit of others and the good of Christ’s cause.
"Having the appearance of godliness, but denying its power. (2 Timothy 3:5)
Are not the doctrines of the gospel calculated by their nature, and intended by their design, to produce a spiritual frame of mind? Ah! but how much of dull, dormant, dead orthodoxy—is there in the bulk of modern professors! What
a discordance between their beliefs and their practice!
Ah, what are some churches—but
Sound doctrine, if it is destitute of spirituality and heavenly mindedness—is but the lifeless statue of godliness.
Oh, professing Christians, without holy and heavenly affections, what is your religion but a mere name? Attend then to the exhortations of the apostle, and "set your affections on things which are above, where Christ sits on the right hand of God." Cultivate a spiritual frame; acquire habits of pious thinking and feeling. Like the secret source of a spring of water, deep in the earth, yet continually welling up to the surface, and gushing out in sparkling ebullitions—let religion be in your soul, an inward source and spring of living piety, which, by its own force, is perpetually sending forth spiritual thoughts and heavenly aspirations; so that a stream of devout thought and feeling, deep and full, is more or less continually flowing through your life.
A grain of saving faith is
Learn to think less and less of the wealth of this world, and more and more of the unsearchable riches of Christ!
Lower the estimate which pride and vanity form of the importance of worldly distinctions.
How dim, how worthless, does everything earthly appear when seen in the sunlight of the cross!
It is by losing sight of Jesus, by living so far from Him, by forgetting Him—that we let the world get so much the upper hand of us.
We must meditate more upon the cross. We must dwell more upon Calvary.
We must be more familiar with the crucified One.
"But as for me, I will never boast about anything except the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom the world has been crucified to me, and I to the world." (Galatians 6:14)
If there is one thing which is more suited to our condition, and more prompted by our necessities than any other—it is prayer.
If there is one duty which is more frequently enjoined by the precepts, or more beautifully enforced by the examples of Scripture, than any other—it is prayer.
If there be one practice as to which the experience of all good men of every age, every country, and every church, has agreed—it is prayer.
If there be one thing which above all others decisively marks the spirit of sincere and individual piety—it is prayer.
So that it may be safely affirmed, where the spirit of prayer is low in the soul of an individual, in a country, an age, or a church—whatever it may have, of morality, of ceremony, of liberality—the spirit of piety is low also.
Every sincere act of adoration—increases our veneration for God’s glorious character.
Every confession of sin—deepens our penitence.
Every petition for a favor—cherishes a sense of dependence.
Every intercession for others—expands our philanthropy.
Every acknowledgment of a mercy—inflames our gratitude.
Instead of the church
It will be
the God of wealth.
Two consequences result from the reception of unsuitable people to church fellowship. They not only are confirmed in their false views of their own case; but by their low state of pious feeling, or total destitution of it, by their worldly-mindedness and laxity, they corrupt others, and exert a deadening influence upon the whole church! Their example is a source of corruption to very many, who are allured by it into
Some very good people have erred here; they have taught, entreated, and prayed—and then wondered that their children did not become truly pious. But their excessive indulgence, their injudicious fondness, their utter neglect of all discipline, the relaxation of their authority, until the children have been taught to consider that they, and not their parents, were the most important people in the household.
But there is another thing to be observed, and that is the mischief of
Doubtless it began while they were yet children; their every wish and every whim were indulged, their foolish inclinations were gratified; he could never be persuaded that any germs of malignant passions lurked under appearances so playful and so lovely; he smiled at transgressions on which he ought to have frowned; and instead of endeavoring kindly but firmly to eradicate the first indications of pride, anger, ambition, deceit, self-will, and stubbornness—he considered they were but the wild flowers of spring, which would die by themselves as the summer advanced. The child grew in this hotbed of indulgence—into the boy; the boy into the youth; the youth into the young man; until habit had confirmed the vices of the child, and acquired a strength which not only now bid defiance to parental restraint—but laughed it to scorn.
Contemplate the poor old man, sitting by the way-side upon his bench, in silent despair, his heart torn with self-reproach, listening with sad presages for tidings from the field of conflict. At length the messenger arrives, the doleful news is told. The ark of God is taken, and his sons Hophni and Phinehas are slain! His aged heart is broken, and he and his whole house are crushed at once under that one sin—the excessive weakness and wickedness of a false and foolish parental indulgence!
Parents, and especially mothers, look at this picture and tremble—contemplate this sad scene, and learn the necessity of judicious, affectionate, firm, and persevering discipline!
"Bring them up in the training and instruction of the Lord." (Ephesians 6:4)
Parents! you are always educating your children for good—or for evil. Not only by what you say—but by what you do! Not only by what you intend—but by what you are! You yourself are one constant lesson which their eyes are
observing, and which their hearts are receiving. Influence, power, impulse, are ever going out from you—take care then how you act! See the immense importance of parental example. What example is so powerful as that of a parent? It is one of the first things which a child observes; it is that which is most constantly before his eyes, and it is that which his very relationship inclines him most attentively to respect, and most assiduously to copy. Vain, worse than useless, is biblical instruction which is not followed up by godly example. Good advice, when not illustrated by good conduct, inspires disgust. There are multitudes of parents to whom I would deliberately give the counsel never to say one syllable to their children on the subject of religion—unless they enforce what they say by a better example. Silence does infinitely less mischief than the most elaborate instruction—which is all counteracted by inconsistent conduct!
Would you see the result of parental misconduct—look into the family of David. Eminent as he was for the spirit of devotion, sweet as were the strains which flowed from his inspired heart, and attached as he was to the worship of the sanctuary—yet what
Parents, beware, I beseech you, how you, act! O let your children see piety in all its sincerity, power, beauty, and loveliness!
Closet prayer
We live in a busy age, when Christians find little time for private prayer, reading the Scriptures, and meditation.
Perhaps there was never so little private prayer among professors as there is now. A few hasty expressions or a few broken thoughts, poured out without solemnity or without coherence, or else a short form learned by rote, and repeated at night or morning, or perhaps both, constitutes, it is to be feared, all the private prayer which some offer to God.
If asked to point out the specific and prevailing sin of the church in the present day, I cannot hesitate to reply—a prevailing worldliness of mind, heart, and conduct. The church is
The determination, as well as the concern, to be rich, has crept into the church! Those who profess to have overcome the world by faith, appear almost as eager as others, in all schemes for getting wealth, and by almost any means.
This worldly spirit is also seen in the general habits and tastes of professing Christians. Their style of living, their entertainments, their associations, their amusements, their conversation—evince . . .a conformity to the world, a minding of earthly things, a disposition to adapt themselves to the world around, a desire to seek their happiness from objects of sense, rather than from those of faith—which proves the extent to which a secular worldly spirit is dominating the spirit of piety in the church.
Are you taken up with getting and enjoying wealth, grandeur, and worldly ease?
How deeply are the great bulk of professing Christians sunk in the love and pursuit of the world—and how almost entirely occupied by its cares or its enjoyments! They are absorbed in seeking selfishness, avarice, worldliness,
indolence and luxuriousness.
I am not to consider myself as sent into the world merely to get wealth, and enjoy myself.
to my Divine owner.
Worth nothing in themselves
True religion is not merely an outward observance of ceremonies, nor an attendance upon ordinances; these things are
True religion begins in deep conviction of sin, a sense of our fallen and ruined state as exposed to the wrath of God; and then goes on in a simple faith in the Gospel, leading to an entire, thankful, and peace-giving dependence on the blood and righteousness of Christ for acceptance with God.
From this faith there arises love to God, to His people, to His ways, and to holiness. In proportion as faith is felt, it makes its possessor humble, meek, and benevolent; full of pity for man and zeal for the glory of God.
"For what shall it profit a man if he shall gain the whole world and lose his own soul? Or what shall a man give in exchange for his soul?" Mark 8:36-37
Nothing can be more momentous than eternity!
Ponder the worth of a soul! Weigh the solemn significance of that word, damnation! Measure, if you can, the height of salvation!
What would you not do—to save your children from falling into the water or the fire? Oh, think of the bottomless pit—and the fire which is never quenched! Take a proper aim in all you do. Look as high as heaven, as deep as to the mouth of
hell, and as far as eternity!
The world is perishing around us! Sinners are going down to the pit before our eyes! Immortal souls by countless millions are crowding to the regions of eternal despair!
How little are we affected by the terrific scene! How little are we pierced by a sense of the ignorance, sin and misery which appeal to our very senses! Oh,
where is the compassion for souls?
It is
True religion makes you
The whole system of the gospel is
"
"I the Lord am the searcher of the heart, the tester of the thoughts, so that I may give to every man the reward of his ways, in keeping with the fruit of his doings." Jeremiah 17:10
It is the heart which is the constant object of divine notice and omniscient scrutiny. Man looks at the conduct—and conjectures the motive from the action. God looks at the heart—and determines the action by the motive. What our heart is—that are we in the judgment of the All-wise. The heart influences the conduct—"for out of it is the wellspring of life." As in the physical body, the heart is the fountain of that vital fluid which according as it is healthy or impure, carries vigor or feebleness, pain or ease, activity or torpor to the whole body—so is it also in the spiritual frame. Let us keep the heart—and the heart will keep the life.
Why are Christians not more attentive to this duty? In some cases, there is too little real concern about spiritual things, too much lukewarmness of soul, too much absorption of mind in secular concerns. Then, also, there is real difficulty in heart work—it requires painstaking, retirement, resistance of the encroachments of the world. Many are afraid to have dealings with the heart. A careful examination would discover much that is evil, and much that they would rather not know, and which they would not like to put away.
My dear children, I would think it probable that during my fifty year pastorate here, nearly 20,000 children have been in our Sunday schools.
in hell!
During my pastorate I have witnessed multitudes of children that have grown up to be their parents’ comfort and joy; and others breaking their parents’ heart by their misconduct, and bringing down their grey hairs with sorrow to the grave. To which of these classes do you belong?
Imagine what would be the results
In short, if the Bible were universally circulated, believed and obeyed—every evil that renders man a foe to others and himself would be removed—and the whole family upon earth harmonized into order and happiness.
Christians, like others, are exposed to the attacks of
They can bear confinement, for God is with them. Their hours are not made heavy and irksome by the recollection of the mirthful scenes from which they are cut off, and the amusements to which they have no longer access. Their
entertainment has come with them; they have brought the cup of their pleasure with them, and they can drink it amidst the languor of disease, as a refreshing cordial, or an exhilarating draught.
This is heaven . . . perfect knowledge of God, perfect enjoyment of His favor, perfect love of His infinite excellences, perfect obedience to His commands,
perfect conformity to His image, all this by a soul refined in its tastes, enlarged in its capacity, and immortal in its duration!
What other sources of enjoyment will be open to the blessed in heaven, it is not for us now to know, or even to conjecture; doubtless there are some which it is impossible for us to understand. But the fountain of delight will be God, and
The Gospel is
Fearful is the death of the worldling! Oh, from what he departs—and to what he goes! What a parting! To leave all he loved and admired—and go to his eternal destiny! To have acquired nothing, and saved nothing—but what he can no longer keep! After crossing the dark waters of death, he will be set ashore in a vast and black eternity, naked and destitute, with nothing to relieve, support, or comfort him! And who shall describe the scene that follows? It is done by one whose solemn pencil was guided by an unerring hand.
"There was a rich man who would dress in purple and fine linen, feasting lavishly every day. But a poor man named Lazarus, covered with sores, was left at his gate. He longed to be filled with what fell from the rich man’s table, but instead the dogs would come and lick his sores. One day the poor man died and was carried away by the angels to Abraham’s side. The rich man also died and was buried. And being in torment in Hell, he looked up and saw Abraham a long way off, with Lazarus at his side. ’Father Abraham!’ he called out, ’Have mercy on me and send Lazarus to dip the tip of his finger in water and cool my tongue, because I am in agony in this flame!’ " (Luke 16:19-24)
This is a picture of a worldling! Of a man whose sin was that he sought his happiness entirely from earthly sources. It was not our Lord’s intention to describe a man of ill-gotten wealth, but one whose whole happiness was derived from his wealth—one who cared for nothing but what he saw, and tasted, and handled, and felt—who had what he sought, and then, having passed his time in a life of earthly gratification, went away to spend his eternity in a state of banishment from that God whose favor was never, in his estimation, essential to his happiness.
Such a termination of his sensual course is just what the worldling might expect and ought to expect; for if he slighted God’s favor, and did not even seek for it; if he made himself, or strove to make himself, happy without it; if he valued everything more than God, and set his wealth, or rank, or fame, or pleasure, above God’s love; if he cared not for salvation, and thought heaven of such little consequence, as not to be worth his pursuit; has he any reason to complain of being denied that which he never asked for, and which he is not fit for? In banishing such a man from heaven, God does but give him his choice. God does but leave him to himself. There ends the earthly course, and begins the eternal one—of him who seeks for happiness in earthly vanities.
Many are saying, "Who can show us any good?" Psalms 4:6
There is certainly some pleasure in the gratification of the appetites—in the enjoyment of health, friends, property, and fame. Even sinful objects have their pleasures. There could be no power in temptation, if sin yielded no enjoyment. But viewing man as a rational, moral, and immortal creature; as a sinner subject to the stings of a reproachful conscience, and under the displeasure of the God he has offended; as liable to all the vicissitudes of a tearful existence, and ever exposed to the fear and stroke of death—he needs something more for his happiness than can be found in the objects of this world. He has . . .needs which they cannot supply; cravings which they cannot satisfy;
woes which they cannot alleviate; anxieties which they cannot dispel.
For each one that is even tolerably successful in gaining felicity from visible objects, there are many who utterly fail. Their schemes are frustrated; their hopes perish; their air castles vanish as they journey on in life; and each
ends a course of worldly-mindedness, by adding another to the millions of examples which had proved this present world to be vanity.
In some cases, abundance and unobstructed enjoyment produce boredom. Tired of old pleasures, they look about for new ones, and plead the oft-repeated inquiry, "Who will show us anything good?" Novelty perhaps comes to the relief of their discontented, restless, and dissatisfied minds; but novelty itself soon grows old, and still something new is wanted. There remains an aching void within, a craving, hungry appetite for bliss—unsatisfied, unfed. They hunt for enjoyment . . .in endless parties of pleasure, in every place of amusement, in every scene of diversion; in the dance, and in the game; in the theater, and in the concert; amidst the scenes of nature, and in the changes of foreign travel;
but happiness, like a shadow ever flitting before them, and ever eluding their grasp, tantalizes them with its form, without yielding them its substance, and excites their hopes—only to disappoint them!
What are all the pleasures of time and sense, all the objects of this visible world—but as the dropping of pebbles into a deep chasm, which, instead of filling it up, only tell him how deep it is—by awakening the dismal echoes of emptiness and desolation.
Look at the worldling. Does he succeed in his quest for happiness? Is he satisfied? Let him possess all he seeks, all he wishes, all that earth can furnish; let rank be added to wealth, and fame to both; let a constant round of fashionable amusements, festive scenes, and elegant parties, follow in endless succession, until his cup is full to overflowing. What does it all amount to? "All that my eyes desired, I did not deny them. I did not refuse myself any pleasure. When I considered all that I had accomplished and what I had labored to achieve, I found everything to be futile and a pursuit of the wind! There was nothing to be gained under the sun." (Ecclesiastes 2:1-26)
Have not multitudes since Solomon’s time, made the same melancholy confession? Is it not a general admission, that the pleasure of worldly objects arises more from hope and anticipation, rather than possession? They are like
Even if it were granted, that the possession of wealth, the gratifications of taste, and the indulgence of appetite, could give happiness in seasons of health and prosperity—they must inevitably fail in the day of sickness and adversity. If they were satisfying for a season—they are all fragile and uncertain! All the enjoyments of this life are like gathered flowers, which are no sooner plucked than they begin to lose their beauty and their fragrance while we look at them and smell them; and which, however mirthful and beautiful they appeared while they were growing—begin to wither as soon as they are in our hands!
Many are saying, "Who can show us any good?" Psalms 4:6
Your idol?
What is it, that you are looking to and depending upon for happiness? Is HEALTH
What is it, that you are looking to and depending upon for happiness? Is WEALTH
What is it, that you are looking to and depending upon for happiness? Is PLEASURE
What is it, that you are looking to and depending upon for happiness? Are FRIENDS
Where, then, will you find satisfaction? The finite has failed—and the infinite God has not been sought! The human and earthly has been taken away—and the divine and heavenly has not been acquired. That one death has covered earth with sackcloth, and has thrown a pall over all that it contains. Is happiness, then, to be found amidst such uncertainties?
"
2 Corinthians 10:1
Our Christian profession involves in it far more than an orthodox creed, a regular attendance upon religious ordinances, and an abstinence from gross immorality. It involves the image of Jesus, yes His very mind and spirit.
language and conduct, weighing the import of words before we utter them, and calculating the consequences of actions before we perform them.
One of the most difficult duties which ever our proud hearts have to perform, is to say, "