September 27

If thou, Lord, shouldst mark iniquities, O Lord, who shall stand!— Psalms 130:8.

AMONG all the virtues which are necessary to offer up our prayers with acceptance, none ascend with a greater velocity, and rise higher, than that very humility which causes them, as it were, to descend the deepest of all; nor is there any more indubitable argument of humility, than a conscience which groans under the burden of its own sin and guilt amid all the abyss of calamities, crying especially from this depth. And thus we see the Psalmist, while he involves all other evils, how great soever they might be, under one common title, fixed upon this, to expatiate upon it at large. If thou, Lord, shouldst mark iniquities—. Thus, if any one desires to mount more readily and more favorably from the depth of calamity, let him cry from this depth of profound humility, and plead a penitent sense of sin. For though of all imaginable depths, that of sin be the most remote from the most high and most holy God, yet, the depths of the humble soul, depressed under the weight of sin, is nearest of all to the deep bowels of Divine mercy; so that the words of the Psalmist, may not improperly be accommodated to this, though in a sense something different from that which in their connection they bear, Deep calls unto deep, and by an harmonious kind of antiphony, if I may be allowed the expression, they do most musically answer to each other.

One might have been ready, perhaps, to imagine, from the vehemence with which he begins his address, and from his groanings as it were so thick and so short, that he was somewhat a bold petitioner, and that he had some confidence in himself, seeing that he presumed to knock so often and so loud at the door of Divine mercy. But what he here adds plainly shows that this was far from being the case: Hear me, O Lord, hear me: and I urge the request because necessity presses urgently upon me. Not that I am, or judge myself to be one who can merit thine assistance, but that I stand in such need of it, that if it be not granted me, I must perish. So far am I from being or appearing to myself worthy of thy help, that behold I am overwhelmed with sin more than with sorrows. It is free mercy that I invoke, and I beseech thee, that in order to thy hearing the voice of my prayer, thou wouldst not hearken to the cry of my sins. Wash away the one, that thou mayst graciously smile upon the other. For, if thou, Lord, shouldst mark iniquity, who shall stand? Intimating that if he were drawn out of the other depths, yet if his sins continued unremitted, he could find no place on which to stand; yea, if it were possible for him in that case to flee away and hide himself, yet he would rather plunge himself into those depths again, and would rather be buried and lost in floods of the greatest calamities, than meet the more dreadful flame of the Divine anger and indignation.

But this humble acknowledgment of his own unworthiness and pollution, is so far from being inconsistent with the pious confidence of prayer, that it is not only congruous, but even congenial to it, and inseparable from it, so as to be most agreeable to that great king whom it addresses. Humility and contrition of heart are often thought by men to be the mark of a low and abject mind, and as such are often despised by them; but nothing is more honorable in the sight of God. "He," says Augustine, "will bow down his ear, if thou dost not lift up thy neck." There is certainly no more efficacious method of supplicating and obtaining grace, than to do it, if I may so speak, sub forma pauperis, confessing and pleading our poverty. He finds the most easy access in the court of heaven, who meets the most frequent repulses on earth. Nay, if I may so express myself, the heavenly court sits and resides in him. The two chief palaces and temples of the great king are that thrice holy place in the third heaven and the humble and contrite heart upon earth. The best manner of praying, therefore, is that which is made up of faith, fear, and humility. By the equal libration of these wings, the soul mounts on high, while that of fear does not sink too low, nor that of confidence rise too high. By these, we are daily and early to soar to God; and care must be taken that these wings of the soul be not dragged down by excess, nor scorched by lust, nor clogged and glued together, as it were, by covetousness, or any other terrene and viscid affection.