Menu

August 3

Evening Exercises for the Closet

the east the influence is much more sudden and surprising, and the beholders can almost see the herbage thrive and flourish. Thus the Lord can quicken his people in his ways, and strengthen in them the things that remain and are ready to die. And when after the softening comes the sunshine, they grow in grace and in the knowledge of their Lord and Saviour. Their faith groweth exceedingly, and the charity of every one of them towards each other aboundeth. They bear much fruit. Thus we read of "increasing with all the increase of God"—This figure therefore expresses growth and fertility.

But the second holds forth refreshment, seasonable refreshment; "like a cloud of dew in the heat of harvest." How cooling, useful, welcome, delightful such an appearance is, ask the labourer in the field, in the eastern field, bearing the burden and heat of the day. God, as the God of all comfort, realizes the truth and force of this image in the experience of his tried followers—First, in their spiritual exercises and depressions arising from the assaults of temptation, a sense of their unworthiness and imperfections, and fears concerning their safety and perseverance. And, secondly, in their outward afflictions. These may be many; and if our strength is small, we shall faint in the day of adversity. But when we cry, he answers us, and strengthens us with strength in our souls. He gives us a little reviving in our bondage; and in the multitude of our thoughts within us his comforts delight our souls. He is able and engaged to comfort us in all our tribulation. By the supply of the Spirit of Jesus Christ; by his word; by his ordinances; by the preaching of a minister; by the conversation of a friend; by a letter, a book, a particular occurrence of Providence, a time of refreshing may come from the presence of the Lord—and a cloud of dew be furnished in the heat of harvest.

Such is the God of love to his people. Are his consolations small with us? O that we were better acquainted with his perfections, his covenant, his promises, and the joy of his salvation!—Let creatures help out our meditations of him. We lose much in not using nature as a handmaid to grace. Let us aid our faith even by our senses. What a state will that be where God will be all in all!

AUGUST 3.—"I said, Lord, be merciful unto me: heal my soul; for I have sinned against thee."—Psalms 41:4.

This is an excellent prayer. The man that utters it confesses that he is a sinner: "I have sinned against thee." "If we say we have not sinned, we make God a liar, and his word is not in us;" and the reason is, because his word declares that "all have sinned, and come short of the glory of God." Sin is the transgression of the law; and to judge of the one we must understand the other. By the law therefore is the knowledge of sin: and when the commandment comes in its purity and spirituality, and we see that it extends to the heart as well as to the life, to the motive as well as to the action; when we see that desire is adultery, and anger murder; sin revives; forgotten offences are remembered; and a thousand transgressions and aggravations are discovered of which we had no apprehension before. The conviction of our sinfulness may commence

with some one gross sin first striking the conscience: but we are soon led on from one iniquity to another. From the more gross we pass to the more refined; and from the streams we ascend to the fountain—till we find the heart, and see that this is deceitful above all things, and desperately wicked. But the greatest sin of which we are convinced is unbelief—"He shall convince the world of sin, because they believe not on me." "He is despised and rejected of men—and of me! I have trampled under foot the Son of God, who loved me, and gave himself for me. O let me look upon him whom I have pierced, and mourn for him"—

He also considers sin as the disease of the soul. "Heal my soul; for I have sinned against thee." Sin affects the soul as disease affects the body. In bodily disease the parts of the system do not properly and freely perform their office; there is always some obstruction or derangement; and therefore the man is said to be disordered. It is the same in the sinner; the powers and functions of the soul are injured and interrupted. Does disease deprive the body of beauty, and appetite, and freedom, and strength? So does sin the soul. Does disease tend to the death of the body? Sin issues in the death of the soul. But the death of the one is temporal; while the death of the other is eternal. Who can tell the import of eternal death? It is a fearful thing to fall into the hands of the living God. Yet the result is no more dreadful than it is certain—The soul that sinneth it shall die. The end of those things is death.

He also views God as the only physician—Therefore to him he applies: "Lord—heal my soul; for I have sinned against thee." This disease, like the leprosy under the law, is inaccessible to human remedies. We cannot heal our own soul. Creatures cannot heal us. The sooner we have this persuasion the better. All other physicians to whom we may apply, though they may cost us much, will be found physicians of no value. But he comes forward and says, "I am the Lord that healeth thee." How? How does he heal the soul meritoriously? By the sufferings and death of his own Son: "by whose stripes we are healed." How does he heal it efficiently? By the influence of his Spirit: "we are saved by the washing of regeneration, and by the renewing of the Holy Ghost." He does not cure like an empiric who only strikes in the disorder, checking the effects and retaining the cause, soothing the pain and undermining the patient—if any man be in Christ, he is a new creature. His very dispositions are changed. He is not only restrained from sin, but mortified to it. And how can he who is dead to sin live any longer therein? How does he heal the soul instrumentally? By his word; by preaching; by the ordinances of religion; by the dispensations of his providence. Afflictions, though the effects of sin, are the fruits to take away sin. The sufferings of the Christian are not penal inflictions, but fatherly chastisements—or, to keep to the metaphor, they are medicinal applications, and, like other medicines, we are to judge of them not by the unpalatableness of the taste, but the sanativeness of the operation.

He is also persuaded that nothing but mercy in God will induce him to undertake the cure: "I said, Lord, be merciful unto me: heal my soul; for I have sinned against thee." Here is the only source of our hope. We have no claims upon him, even for his pity. We

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

Donate