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J. C. Ryle wrote well over two hundred evangelical tracts, of which more than two million were circulated, and many were translated into foreign languages. Throughout his ministry he remained one of the strongest defenders of the evangelical reformed faith within the Church of England. His faithful witness to the Gospel of Christ needs to be heard more than ever today. The following tract is a classic of Gospel Truth that readers came to expect from all his writings. All his tracts are pure gold. Some of them, not published since the 19th century, have come into my possession, and I offer you these inspiring works exactly word for word as they were published by Drummonds Tract Depot, Stirling, Scotland. |
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“YOUR SINS ARE FORGIVEN YOU.”
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Do you see the question which stands at the head of
this page? It is just possible you may not understand its meaning. Perhaps
you may think, “Whom have I injured?—Whom have I defrauded?—Whom have I
wronged?—Whose confidence have I forfeited?—What need have I of
forgiveness?” I answer, it is not
an
earthly forgiveness I am asking about, but a
heavenly one. I do not inquire whether you are forgiven in the sight of men,
but whether you are forgiven in the sight of God. The question I desire to
press home on your conscience is simply this, “Are you a pardoned soul?” Come now, and give me your attention, while I speak
to you about the forgiveness of sins. The subject is one that can never be
considered too soon. We lately saw the pestilence slaying its thousands and
tens of thousands of our countrymen. The strongest were carried off in a few
hours. The cleverest physicians found their skill entirely unavailing. We
live yet, and we may be thankful. We live yet, and surely we should be
thoughtful. Our turn may come next. Our graves may soon be ready for us.
Come then, I say once more, and let me speak to you about the forgiveness of
sins. I.
Let me show you first of all your need of forgiveness. All men need forgiveness, because all men are
sinners. He that does not know this, knows nothing in religion. It is the
very A B C of Christianity, that a man should know his right place, and
understand his deserts. We are
all great sinners.
Sinners we were born, and sinners we have been
all our lives. We take to sin naturally from the very first. No child ever
needs schooling and education to teach it to do wrong. No devil or bad
companion ever leads us into such wickedness as our own hearts. And the
wages of sin is death. We must either be forgiven, or lost eternally. We are
all guilty sinners
in the sight of God. We have broken His holy law.
We have transgressed His precepts. We have not done His will. There is not
a commandment in all the ten which does not condemn us. If we have not
broken it in deed we have in word, we have in thought and imagination,—and
that continually. Tried by the standard of the fifth chapter of St. Matthew,
there is not one of us that would be acquitted. And as it is appointed unto
men once to die, so after this comes the judgment. We must either be
forgiven, or perish everlastingly. When I walk through the
crowded streets of London, I see hundreds and thousands, of whom I know
nothing beyond their outward appearance. I see some bent on pleasure, and
some on business,—some who look rich, and some who look poor,—some rolling
in their carriages, some hurrying along on foot. Each has his own object in
view. Each has his own aims and ends, all alike hidden from me. But one
thing I know for a certainty, as I look upon them,—they are all sinners.
There is not a soul among them all but is guilty before God. There breathes
not the man or woman in that crowd, but must die
forgiven, or
else rise again to be condemned for ever at the last day. When I look through the
length and breadth of Great Britain, I must make the same report. From the
Land’s End to the North Foreland, from the Isle of Wight to Caithness, from
the Queen on the throne to the pauper in the work-house, we are all sinners.
We have got a name among the empires of the earth. We send our ships into
every sea, and our merchandize into every town in the world. We have bridged
the Atlantic with our steamers. We have made night in our cities like day
with gas. We have changed England into one great County by railways. We can
exchange thought between London and Edinburgh in a few seconds by the
electric telegraph. But with all our arts and sciences, with all our
machinery and inventions, with all our armies and navies, with all our
lawyers and statesmen, we have not altered the natures of our people. We are
still in the eye of God an island full of sinners. When I turn to the map of the world, I must say the
same thing. It matters not what quarter I examine, I find men’s hearts are
everywhere the same, and everywhere wicked. Sin is the family disease of all
the children of Adam. Never has there been a corner of the earth discovered,
where sin and the devil do not reign. Wide as the differences are between
the nations of the earth, they have been found to have one great mark in
common. Europe and Asia, Africa and America, Iceland and India, Paris and
Pekin, all alike have the mark of sin. The eye of the Lord looks down on
this globe of ours as it rolls round the sun, and sees it covered with
corruption and wickedness. What He sees in the moon and stars, in Jupiter
and Saturn, I cannot tell, but on the earth I know He sees sin. (Psalm xiv.
2, 3.) Reader, you may not perhaps like what I am saying. I
have no doubt such language as this sounds extravagant to some. You think I
am going much too far. But mark well what I am about to say next, and then
consider whether I have not used the words of soberness and truth. What then, I ask, is
the life of the best Christian
amongst us all? What is it but one great career
of short-comings? What is it but a daily acting out the words of our Prayer
Book, “leaving undone things that we ought to do, and doing things that we
ought not to do?” Our faith, how feeble! Our love, how cold! Our works, how
few! Our zeal, how small! Our patience, how short-breathed! Our humility,
how threadbare! Our self-denial, how dwarfish! Our knowledge, how dim! Our
spirituality, how shallow! Our prayers, how formal! Our desires for more
grace, how faint! Never did the wisest of men speak more wisely than when he
said, “there is not a just man upon earth that doeth good and sinneth not.”
(Eccles, vii. 20.) “In many things,” says the apostle James, “we offend
all.” (James iii. 2.) And
what is the best action
that is ever done by the very best of Christians?
What is it after all but an imperfect work, when tried on its own merits? It
is, as Luther says, no better than a splendid sin. It is always more or less
defective. It is either wrong in its motive, or incomplete in its
performance,—not done from perfect principles, or not executed in a perfect
way. The eyes of men may see no fault in it, but weighed in the balance of
God it would be found wanting, and viewed in the light of heaven it would
prove full of flaws. It is like the drop of water which seems clear to the
naked eye, but placed under a microscope is discovered to be full of
impurity. David’s account is literally true, “there is none that doeth good,
no not one.” (Psalm xiv. 3.) And then,
what is the Lord God,
whose eyes are on all our ways, and before whom
we have one day to give account? “Holy, holy, holy,” is the remarkable
expression applied to Him by those who are nearest to Him. (Isaiah vi. 3.
Rev. iv. 8.) It sounds as if no one word could express the intensity of His
holiness. One of His prophets says, “He is of purer eyes than to behold
evil, and cannot look on iniquity.” (Habak. i. 13.) We think the angels
exalted beings, and far above ourselves; but we are told in Scripture, “He
charged His angels with folly.” (Job iv. 18.) We admire the moon and stars
as glorious and splendid bodies, but we read, “Behold even to the moon, and
it shineth not; yea the stars are not pure in His sight.” (Job xxv. 5.) We
talk of the heavens as the noblest and purest part of creation; but even of
them it is written, “the heavens are not clean in His sight.” (Job xv. 14.)
Reader, what is any one of us but a miserable sinner in the sight of such a
God as this? Surely we ought all to cease from proud thoughts
about ourselves. We ought to lay our hands upon our mouths, and say with
Abraham, “I am dust and ashes,” and with Job, “I am vile,” and with Isaiah,
“We are all as an unclean thing,” and with John, “If we say that we have no
sin we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us,” (Gen. xviii. 27; Job
xl. 4; Isaiah lxiv. 6; 1 John i. 9.) Where is the man or woman in the whole
catalogue of the Book of life, that will ever be able to say more than this,
“I obtained mercy?” What is the glorious company of the apostles, the goodly
fellowship of the prophets, the noble army of martyrs, what are they all but
pardoned sinners? Surely there is but one conclusion to be arrived at, we
are all great sinners, and we all need a great forgiveness. See now what just cause I
have to tell you that to know your need of forgiveness, is the first thing
in true religion. Sin is a burden, and must be taken off. Sin is a
defilement, and must be cleansed away. Sin is a mighty debt, and must be
paid. Sin is a mountain standing between us and heaven, and must be removed.
Happy is that mother’s child amongst us that feels all this! The first step
towards heaven is to see clearly that we
deserve hell. There are but two
alternatives before us, we must either be forgiven, or be miserable forever. See too how little many
persons know of the design of Christianity, though they live in a Christian
land. They fancy they are to go to church to learn their duty, and hear
morality enforced, and for no other purpose. They forget that the heathen
philosophers could have told them as much as this. They forget that such men
as Plato and Seneca gave instruction, which ought to put to shame the
Christian liar, the Christian drunkard, and the Christian thief. They have
yet to learn that the leading mark of Christianity is the
remedy it
provides for sin. This is the glory and excellence of the Gospel. It meets
man as he really is. It takes him as it finds him. It goes down to the level
to which sin has brought him, and offers to raise him up. It tells him of a
remedy equal to his disease, a great forgiveness for great sinners. Reader, I ask you to
consider these things well, if you have not considered them before. It is no
light matter whether you know your soul’s necessities or not. It is a
matter of life and death. Try, I beseech you, to become acquainted with your
own heart. Sit down and think quietly what you are in the sight of God.
Bring together the thoughts, and words, and actions of any day in your life,
and measure them by the measure of God’s word. Judge yourself honestly, that
you may not be condemned at the last day. Oh! that you might find out what
you really are! Oh! that you might learn to pray Job’s prayer, “Make me to
know my transgression and my sin.” (Job xiii. 23.) Oh! that you might see
this great truth, that until you are
forgiven, your Christianity has done
nothing for you at all! II.
Let
me
point out to you, in the second place, the way of
forgiveness. I ask your particular attention to this point, for
none can be more important. Granting for a moment that you want pardon and
forgiveness, what ought you to do? Whither will you go? Which way will you
turn? Everything hinges on the answer you give to this question. Will you turn to
ministers, and
put your trust in them? They cannot give you pardon: they can only tell you
where it is to be found. They can set before you the bread of life: but you
yourself must eat it. They can show you the path of peace: but you yourself
must walk into it. The Jewish priest had no power to cleanse the leper, but
only to declare him cleansed. The Christian minister has no power to forgive
sins, he can only pronounce who they are that are forgiven. Will you turn to
sacraments and ordinances,
and trust in them? They cannot supply you with
forgiveness, however diligently you may use them. By sacraments faith is
confirmed and grace increased, in all who rightly use them. But they cannot
justify the sinner. They cannot put away transgression. You may go to the
Lord’s table every Sunday in your life; but unless you look far beyond the
sign to the thing signified, you will after all die in your sins. You may
attend a daily service regularly, but if you think to establish a
righteousness of your own by it, in the slightest degree, you are only
getting further away from God every day. Will you trust in your
own works and endeavours,
your virtues and your good deeds, your prayers
and your alms? They will never buy for you an entrance into heaven. They
will never pay your debt to God. They are all imperfect in themselves, and
only increase your guilt. There is no merit or worthiness in them at the
very best. “When ye have done all those things which are commanded you,”
says the Lord Jesus, “say we are unprofitable servants.” (Luke xvii. 10.) Will you trust in your
own repentance and amendment?
You are very sorry for the past. You hope to be
better for the time to come. You hope God will be merciful. Alas! if you
lean on this, you have nothing beneath you but a broken reed. The judge does
not pardon the thief because he is sorry for what he did. Today’s sorrow
will not wipe off the score of yesterday’s sins. It is not an ocean of tears
that would ever cleanse an uneasy conscience and give it peace. Where then must a man go for pardon? Where is
forgiveness to be found? Listen, reader, and by God’s help I will tell you.
There is a way both sure and plain, and into that way I desire to guide
every inquirer’s feet. That way is, simply to trust in the Lord Jesus
Christ, as your Saviour. It is to cast your soul, with all its sins,
unreservedly on Christ, to cease completely from any dependence on your own
works and doings, either in whole or in part, and to rest on no other work
but Christ’s work, no other righteousness but Christ’s righteousness, no
other merit but Christ’s merit, as your ground of hope. Take this course,
and you are a pardoned soul. “To Christ,” says Peter, “give all the prophets
witness, that through His name whosoever believed in Him shall receive
remission of sins.” (Acts x. 43.) “Through this man,” said Paul at Antioch,
“is preached unto you the forgiveness of sins, and by Him all that believe
are justified from all things.” (Acts xiii. 38.) “In Him,” writes Paul to
the Colossians, “we have redemption through His blood, even the forgiveness
of sins.” (Col. i. 14.) The Lord Jesus Christ, in
great love and compassion, has made a full and complete satisfaction for
sin, by His own death upon the cross. There He offered Himself as a
sacrifice for us, and allowed the wrath of God, which we deserved, to fall
on His own head. For our sins He gave Himself, suffered, and died, the just
for the unjust, the innocent for the guilty, that He might deliver us from
the curse of a broken law, and provide a complete pardon for all who are
willing to receive it. And by so doing, as Isaiah says, He has
borne our sins,
as John the Baptist says, He has taken
away sin, as Paul says, He has
purged our
sins, and put away
sin, and as Daniel says, He has
made an end of sin,
and finished
transgression. (Isaiah liii. 11. John i.
29. Heb. i. 3. ix. 26. Dan. ix. 24.) And now the Lord Jesus is sealed and appointed by
God the Father to be a Prince and a Saviour, to give remission of sins to
all who will have it. The keys of death and hell are put in His hand. The
government of the gate of heaven is laid on His shoulder. He Himself is the
door, and by him all that enter in shall be saved. (Acts v. 31. Rev. i. 18.
John x. 9.) Christ, in one word, has purchased a full
forgiveness, if you and I are willing to receive it. He has done all, paid
all, suffered all that was needful to reconcile us to God. He has provided a
garment of righteousness to clothe us. He has opened a fountain of living
waters to cleanse us. He has removed every barrier between us and God the
Father, taken every obstacle out of the way, and made a road by which the
vilest may return. All things are now ready, and the sinner has only to
believe and be saved, to eat and be satisfied, to ask and receive, to wash
and be clean. And faith, simple faith,
is the only thing required, in order that you and I may be forgiven. That we
will come to Jesus as sinners with our sins, trust in Him, rest on Him, lean
on Him, confide in Him, commit our souls to Him, and
forsaking all other hope, cleave only to Him,
this is all and everything that God asks
for. Let a man only do this, and he shall be saved. His iniquities shall be
found completely pardoned, and his transgressions entirely taken away.
Every man and woman that so trusts is wholly forgiven, and reckoned
perfectly righteous. His sins are clean gone, and His soul is justified in
God’s sight, however bad and guilty he may have been. Faith is the only thing
required, not knowledge.
A man may be a poor unlearned sinner, and know
little of books. But if he sees enough to find the foot of the cross, and
trust in Jesus for pardon, I will engage he shall not miss heaven. To know
Christ is the corner-stone of all religious knowledge. Faith, I say, and
not conversion.
A man may have been walking in the broad way up
to the very hour he first hears the Gospel. But if in that hearing he is
awakened to feel his danger, and wants to be saved, let him come to Christ
at once and wait for nothing. That very coming is the beginning of
conversion. Faith, I repeat, and
not holiness.
A man may feel all full of sin, and unworthy to
be saved. But let him not tarry outside the ark till he is better. Let him
come to Christ without delay, just as he is. Afterwards he shall be holy. Reader, I call upon you
to let nothing move you from this strong ground, that
faith in Christ is the only thing needed for your
justification. Stand firm here,
if
you value your soul’s peace. I see
many walking in darkness and having no light, from confused notions as to
what faith is. They hear that saving faith will work by love and produce
holiness, and not finding all this at once in themselves, they think they
have no faith at all. They forget that these things are the fruits of faith,
and not faith itself, and that to doubt whether we have faith because we do
not see them at once, is like doubting whether a tree be alive, because it
does not bear fruit the very day we plant it in the ground. I charge you to
settle it firmly in your mind that in the matter of your forgiveness and
justification there is but one thing required, and that is simple faith in
Christ. I know well that the
natural heart dislikes this doctrine. It runs counter to man’s notions of
religion. It leaves him no room to boast. Man’s idea is to come to Christ
with a price in his hand, his regularity, his morality, his repentance, his
goodness, and so, as it were, to buy his pardon and justification. The
Spirit’s teaching is quite different; it is, first of all to believe.
Whosoever believeth
shall not perish. (John iii. 16.) Some say, such doctrine cannot be right, because it
makes the way to heaven too easy. I fear that many such persons, if the
truth were spoken, find it too hard. I believe in reality it is easier to
give a fortune in building a cathedral like York minster, or to go to the
stake and be burned, than thoroughly to receive justification by faith
without the deeds of the law, and to enter heaven as a sinner saved by
grace. Some say this doctrine is foolishness and
enthusiasm. I answer, this is just what was said of it 1800 years ago, and
is a vain cavil now, as it was then. So far from the charge being true, a
thousand facts can prove this doctrine to be from God. No doctrine certainly
has produced such mighty effects in the world, as the simple proclamation of
free forgiveness through faith in Christ. This is the glorious
doctrine that was the strength of the Apostles when they went forth to the
Gentiles to preach a new religion. They began a few poor fishermen, in a
despised corner of the earth. They turned the world upside down. They
changed the face of the Roman empire. They emptied the heathen temples of
their worshippers, and made the whole system of idolatry crumble away And
what was the weapon by which they did it all? It was
free forgiveness through faith in Jesus Christ. This is the doctrine
which brought light into Europe 300 years ago, at the time of the blessed
Reformation, and enabled one solitary Monk, Martin Luther, to shake the
whole church of Rome. Through his preaching and writing the scales fell from
men’s eyes, and the chains of their souls were loosed. And what was the
lever that gave him his power? It was free
forgiveness through faith in Jesus Christ. This is the doctrine that
revived our own church in the middle of last century, when Whitefield, and
the Wesleys, and Berridge, and Venn broke the wretched spirit of slumber
that had come over the land, and roused men to think. They began a mighty
work, with little seeming likelihood of success. They began, few in number,
with small encouragement from the rich and great. But they prospered. And
why?—Because they preached free
forgiveness through faith in Christ. This is the doctrine
which is the true strength of any church on earth at this day. It is not
orders, or endowments, or liturgies, or learning, that will keep a church
alive. Let free forgiveness through Christ be faithfully proclaimed in her
pulpits, and the gates of hell shall not prevail against her. Let it be
buried or kept back, and her candlestick shall soon be taken away. When the
Saracens invaded the lands where Jerome and Athanasius, Cyprian and
Augustine, once wrote and preached, they found bishops and liturgies, I make
no question. But I fear they found no preaching of free forgiveness of sins,
and so they swept the churches of those lands clean away. They were a body
without a vital principle, and therefore they fell. Let us never forget the
brightest days of a church are those when Christ crucified is most exalted.
The dens and caves of the earth, where the early Christians met to hear of
the love of Jesus, were more full of glory and beauty in God’s sight than
ever was St. Peter’s at Rome. The meanest barn at this day, where the true
way of pardon is offered to sinners, is a far more honourable place than the
cathedral of Cologne or Milan. A church is only useful so far as she exalts
free forgiveness through Christ. This is the doctrine which of all others is the
mightiest engine for pulling down the kingdom of Satan. The Greenlanders
were unmoved, so long as the Moravians told them of the creation and the
fall of man; but when they heard of redeeming love, their frozen hearts
melted like snow in spring. Preach salvation by the sacraments, exalt the
church above Christ, and keep back the doctrine of the atonement, and the
devil cares little,—his goods are at peace. But preach a full Christ and a
free pardon, and then Satan will have great wrath, for he knows he has but a
short time. John Berridge said he went on preaching morality and nothing
else, till he found there was not a moral man in his parish. But when he
changed his plan, and began to preach the love of Christ to sinners, then
there was a stirring of the dry bones, and a mighty turning to God. This is the only doctrine which will ever bring
peace to an uneasy conscience, and rest to a troubled soul. A man may get on
pretty well without it so long as he is asleep about his spiritual
condition. But once let him awake from his slumber, and nothing will ever
calm him but the blood of atonement and the peace of Christ. How anyone can
undertake to be a minister of religion without a firm grasp of this
doctrine, I never can understand. For myself, I can only say I should think
my office a most painful one, if I had not the message of free forgiveness
to convey. It would be miserable work indeed to visit the sick and dying, if
I could not say, “Behold the Lamb of God, believe on the Lord Jesus Christ,
and thou shalt be saved.” The right hand of a Christian minister is the
doctrine of free forgiveness through faith in Christ. Give us this
doctrine, and we have power. We will never despair of doing good to men’s
souls. Take away this doctrine, and we are weak as water. We may read the
prayers, and go through a round of forms, but we are like Samson with his
head shorn, our strength is gone. Soul’s will not be benefited by us, and
good will not be done. Reader, I commend the things I have been saying to
your notice. I am not ashamed of free pardon through faith in Christ,
whatever some may say against the doctrine. I am not ashamed of it, for its
fruits speak for themselves. It has done things that no other doctrine can
do. It has effected moral changes which laws and punishments have failed to
work, which magistrates and policemen have laboured after in vain, which
mechanics’ institutes and secular knowledge have proved utterly powerless to
produce. Just as the fiercest lunatics in Bethlehem hospital became suddenly
gentle when kindly treated, even so the worst and most hardened sinners have
often become as little children, when told of Jesus loving them and willing
to forgive. I can well understand Paul ending his Epistle to the erring
Galatians with that solemn burst of feeling, “God forbid that I should glory
save in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ.” (Gal. vi. 14.) The crown has
indeed fallen from a Christian’s head, when he leaves the doctrine of
justification by faith. See now how you should ask yourself whether yon have
really received the truth which I have been dwelling on, and know it by
experience. Jesus, and faith in Him, is the only way to the Father. He that
thinks to climb into paradise by some other road, will find himself
fearfully mistaken. Other foundation can no man lay for an immortal soul
than that of which I have been feebly speaking. He that ventures himself
here is safe. He that is off this rock has got no standing ground at all. See too how you should
seriously consider what kind of a ministry you are in the habit of
attending, supposing you have a choice. You have reason indeed to be
careful. It is not all the same
where you go, whatever people may say. There are
many places of worship, I fear, where you might look long for Christ
crucified, and never find Him. He is buried under outward ceremonies, thrust
behind the baptismal font, lost sight of under the shadow of the church.
“They have taken away my Lord, and I know not where they have laid Him.”
Take heed where you settle yourself. Try all by this single test: “Is Jesus
and free forgiveness proclaimed here?” There may be comfortable pews, there
may be good singing, there may be learned sermons. But if Christ’s Gospel is
not the sun and centre of the whole place, do not pitch your tent there. Say
rather with Isaac, “Here is the wood and the fire, but where is the Lamb?”
Be very sure this is not the place for your soul. Reader, remember these things, and you will be wise.
I have set before you the way of life. I have told you where pardon is to be
found? Oh! beware, lest an offer being made you of free forgiveness, any of
you should come short of it. III.
Let me in the third place encourage all who wish
to be forgiven. I dare be sure this paper
will be read by someone who feels he is not yet a forgiven soul.
My
heart’s desire and prayer is that
such a one may seek his pardon at once. And I would fain help him forward,
by showing him the kind of forgiveness offered to him, and the glorious
privileges within his reach. Listen to me then, while I try to exhibit to you the
treasures of Gospel forgiveness. I cannot describe its fulness as I ought.
Its riches are indeed unsearchable. (Eph. iii. 8.) But if you will turn away
from it, you shall not be able to say in the day of judgment, you did not at
all know what it was. Consider then for one
thing, that the forgiveness set before you is a
great and broad forgiveness.
Hear what the Prince of Peace Himself declares,
“All sins shall be forgiven unto the sons of men, and blasphemies, wherewith
soever they shall blaspheme.” (Mark iii. 28.) Though your sins be as
scarlet, they shall become white as snow; though they be red like crimson,
they shall be as wool.” (Isaiah i. 18.) Yes! though your trespasses be
countless, they can all be pardoned. As the waters of Noah’s flood covered
over and hid the tops of the highest hills, so can the blood of Jesus cover
over and hide your mightiest sins. “His blood cleanseth from all sin.” (1
John i. 7.) Though to you they seem written with the point of a diamond,
they can all be effaced from the book of God’s remembrance by that precious
blood. Paul names a long list of abominations which the Corinthians had
committed, and then says, “such were some of you, but ye are washed.” (1
Cor. vi.
11.) Furthermore, it is a
full and complete
forgiveness. It is not like David’s pardon to
Absalom,—a permission to return home, but not a full restoration to
favour. (2 Sam. xiv. 24.) It is not, as some fancy, a mere letting off, and
letting alone. It is a pardon so complete, that he who has it is reckoned as
righteous as if he had never sinned at all. His iniquities are blotted out.
They are removed from him as far as the east from the west. (Psalm ciii.
12.)
There remains no condemnation for him. The
Father sees him joined to Christ and is well pleased. The Son beholds him
clothed with his own righteousness, and says, “Thou art all fair, there is
no spot in thee.” (Cant. iv. 7.) Blessed be God that it is so. I verily
believe if the best of us all had only one blot left for himself to wipe
out, he would
miss
eternal life. If the holiest child of Adam were
in heaven all but his little finger, and to get in depended on himself, I am
sure he would never enter the kingdom. If Noah, Daniel, and Job had had but
one day’s sins to wash away, they would never have been saved. Praised be
God that in the matter of our pardon there is nothing left for man to do.
Jesus does all, and man has only to hold out an empty hand and to receive. Furthermore, it is
a free and unconditional
forgiveness. It is not burdened with an “if,”
like Solomon’s pardon to Adonijah, “If he will show himself a worthy man.”
(1 Kings i. 52.) Nor yet are you obliged to carry a price in your hand, or
bring a character with you to prove yourself deserving of mercy. Jesus
requires but one character, and that is that you should feel yourself a
sinful, bad man. He invites you to “buy wine and milk without money and
without price,” and declares “Whosoever will let him take the water of life
freely.” (Isaiah lv. 1. Rev. xxii. 17.) Like David in the cave of Adullam,
He receives everyone that feels in distress and a debtor, and rejects none.
(1 Sam. xxii. 2.) Are you a sinner? Do you want a Saviour? Then come to
Jesus just as you are, and your soul shall live. Again, it is an
offered forgiveness.
I have read of earthly kings who knew not how to
show mercy, of Henry the Eighth of England, who spared neither man or woman;
of James the Fifth of Scotland, who would never show favour to a Douglas.
The King of kings is not like them. He calls on man to come to Him, and be
pardoned. “Unto you, O men, I call, and my voice is to the sons of men.”
(Prov. viii. 4.) “Ho, every one that thirsteth, come ye to the waters.”
(Isaiah lv. 1.) “If any man thirst, let him come unto me and drink.” (John
vii. 37.) “Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will
give you rest.” (Mat. xi. 28.) Oh! reader, it ought to be a great comfort to
you and me to hear of any pardon at all, but to hear Jesus Himself inviting
us, to see Jesus Himself holding out His hand to us,—the Saviour seeking the
sinner before the sinner seeks the Saviour,—this is encouragement, this is
strong consolation indeed. Again, it is a
willing forgiveness.
I have heard of pardons granted in reply to long
entreaty, and wrung out by much importunity. King Edward the Third of
England would not spare the citizens of Calais till they came to him with
halters round their necks, and his own queen interceded for them on her
knees. But Jesus is “good and ready to forgive.” (Psalm lxxxvi. 5.) He
delighteth in mercy. (Micah vii. 18.) Judgment is His strange work. He is
not willing that any should perish. (2 Peter iii. 9.) He would fain have all
men saved, and come to the knowledge of the truth. (1 Tim. ii. 4.) He wept
over unbelieving Jerusalem. “As I live,” He says, “I have no pleasure in the
death of the wicked. Turn ye, turn ye, from your evil ways: why will ye
die?” (Ezek. xxxiii. 11.) Ah! reader, you and I may well come boldly to the
throne of grace. He who sits there is far more willing and ready to give
mercy than you and I are to receive it. Besides this, it is a
tried forgiveness.
Thousands and tens of thousands have sought for
pardon at the mercy-seat of Christ, and not one has ever returned to say
that he sought in vain. Sinners of every name and nation,—sinners of every
sort and description, have knocked at the door of the fold, and none have
ever been refused admission. Zacchĉus the extortioner, Magdalen the harlot,
Saul the persecutor, Peter the denier of his Lord, the Jews who crucified
the Prince of life, the idolatrous Athenians, the adulterous Corinthians,
the ignorant Africans, the blood-thirsty New Zealanders,—all have ventured
their souls on Christ’s promises of pardon, and none have ever found them
fail. Ah! reader, if the way I set before you were a new and untraveled way,
you might well feel faint-hearted. But it is not so. It is an old path. It
is a path worn by the feet of many pilgrims, and a path in which the
footsteps are all one way. The treasury of Christ’s mercies has never been
found empty. The well of living waters has never proved dry. Besides this, it is a
present forgiveness.
All that believe in Jesus are at once justified
from all things. (Acts xiii. 38.) The very day the younger son returned to
his father’s house, he was clothed with the best robe, had the ring put on
his hand, and the shoes on his feet. (Luke xv.) The very day Zacchĉus
received Jesus he heard those comfortable words, this day is salvation come
to this house.” (Luke xix. 9.) The very day that David said, “I have sinned
against the Lord,” he was told by Nathan, “The Lord also hath put away thy
sin.” (2 Sam. xii. 13.) The very day you first flee to Christ, your sins are
all removed. Your pardon is not a thing far away, to be obtained only after
many years. It is nigh at hand. It is close to you, within your reach, all
ready to be bestowed. Believe, and that very moment it is your own. “He that
believeth is not condemned.” (John iii. 18.) It is not said, “He shall not
be,” or “will not be,” but “is
not.”
From the time of his believing condemnation is
gone. “He that believeth hath everlasting life.” (John iii. 36.) It is not
said, “He shall have,” or “will have,” it is “hath.”
It
is his own as surely as if he was in heaven,
though not so evidently so to his own eyes.
Ah!
reader, you must not think
forgiveness will be nearer to a believer in the day of judgment than it
was in the hour he first believed. His complete salvation from the
power of sin is
every year nearer and nearer to him; but as to his forgiveness and
justification, it is a finished work from the very minute he first commits
himself to Christ. Last and best of all, it
is an everlasting forgiveness.
It is not like Shimei’s pardon, a pardon that may
sometime be revoked and taken away. (1
Kings ii. 9.) Once justified, you are
justified forever. Once written down in the book of life, your name shall
never be
blotted
out. The sins of God’s children are said
to be cast into the depths of the sea,—to be sought for and not found,—to be
remembered no more,—to be cast behind God’s back. (Mic. vii. 19. Jerem. 1.
60. xxxi. 34. Isaiah xxxviii. 17.) Some people fancy they may be justified
one year and condemned another,—children of adoption at one time, and
strangers by and by,—heirs of the kingdom in the beginning of their days,
and yet servants of the devil in their end. I cannot find this in the Bible;
as the New Zealander told the Romish priest,
I do not see it in the book. It seems to
me to overturn the good news of the Gospel altogether, and to tear up its
comforts by the roots. I believe the salvation Jesus offers is an
everlasting salvation, and a pardon once sealed with His blood shall never
be reversed. Reader, I have set before you the nature of the
forgiveness offered to you. I have told you but a little of it, for my words
are weaker than my will. The half of it remains untold. The greatness of it
is far more than any report of mine. But I think I have said enough to show
you it is worth the seeking, and I can wish you nothing better than that you
may strive to make it your own. Do you call it nothing to look forward to death
without fear, and to judgment without doubt and to eternity without a
sinking of heart? Do you call it nothing to feel the world slipping from
your grasp, and to see the grave getting ready for you, and the valley of
the shadow of death opening before your eyes, and yet not be afraid? Do you
call it nothing to be able to think of the great day of account, the throne,
the books, the Judge, the assembled worlds, the revealing of secrets, the
final sentence, and yet to feel “I am safe?” This is the portion, and this
the privilege of a forgiven soul. Such an one is
on a rock. When
the rain of God’s wrath descends, and the floods come, and the winds blow,
his feet shall not slide, his habitation shall be sure. Such an one is in an
ark.
When the last fiery deluge is sweeping over all things on the surface of the
earth, it shall not come nigh him. He shall be caught up and borne securely
above it all. Such an one is
in a hiding place.
When God arises to judge terribly the earth, and
men are calling to rocks and mountains to fall upon them and cover them, the
everlasting arms shall be thrown around him, and the storm shall pass over
his head. He shall abide under the shadow of the Almighty. Such an one is
in a city of
refuge.
The accuser of the brethren can lay no charge against him. The law cannot
condemn him. There is a wall between him and the avenger of blood. The
enemies of his soul cannot hurt him. He is in a secure sanctuary. Such an one is
rich. He has
treasure in heaven which cannot be affected by worldly changes, compared to
which Peru and California are nothing at all. He need not envy the richest
merchants and bankers. He has a portion that will endure when bank-notes and
sovereigns are worthless things. He can say, like the Spanish ambassador,
when shown the treasury at Venice, “My master’s treasury has no bottom.” He
has Christ. Such an one is
insured. He is
ready for anything that may happen. Nothing can harm him. Banks may break,
and governments may be overturned. Famine and pestilence may rage around
him. Sickness and sorrow may visit his own fireside. But still he is ready
for all,—ready for health, ready for disease,—ready for tears, ready for
joy,—ready for poverty, ready for plenty,—ready for life, ready for death.
He has Christ. He is a pardoned soul. “Blessed” indeed “is he whose
transgression is forgiven, and whose sin is covered.” (Psalm xxxii. 1.) Reader, how will you escape if you neglect so great
salvation? Why should you not lay hold on it at once, and say, Pardon me,
even me also, O my Saviour. What would you have, if the way I have set
before you does not satisfy you? Come while the door is open. Ask, and you
shall receive. IV.
Let vie give you in the last place some marks of
having found forgiveness. I dare not leave out this point. Too many persons
presume they are forgiven, who have no evidences to show. Not a few cannot
think it possible they are forgiven, who are plainly in the way to heaven,
though they may not see it themselves. I would fain raise hope in some, and
self-inquiry in others, and to do this let me tell you the leading marks of
a forgiven soul. Forgiven souls
hate sin. They
can enter most fully into the words of our Communion Service, “the
remembrance of sin is grievous unto them, and the burden of it is
intolerable.” It is the serpent which bit them: how should they not shrink
from it with horror? It is the poison which brought them to the brink of
eternal death: how should they not loathe it with a godly disgust? It is the
Egyptian enemy which kept them in hard bondage: how should not the very
memory of it be bitter to their hearts? It is the disease of which they
carry the marks and scars about them, and from which they scarcely
recovered: well may they dread it, flee from it, and long to be delivered
altogether from its power. Remember how the woman in Simon’s house wept over
the feet of Jesus. (Luke vii. 38.) Remember how the Ephesians publicly
burned their wicked books. (Acts xix. 19.) Remember how Paul mourned over
his youthful transgressions, “I am not meet to be called an Apostle, because
I persecuted the Church of God.” (1 Cor. xv. 9.) Ah! reader, if you and sin
are friends, you and God are not yet reconciled. You are not meet for
heaven, for one main part of heaven’s excellence is the absence of all sin. Forgiven souls
love Christ.
This is that one thing they can say, if they dare say nothing else,—they do
love Christ. His person, His office, His work, His name, His cross, His
blood, His words, His example, His day, His ordinances, all, all are
precious to forgiven souls. The ministry which exalts Him most, is that
which they enjoy most. The books which are most full of Him, are most
pleasant to their minds. The people on earth they feel most drawn to, are
those in whom they see something of Christ. His name is as ointment poured
forth, and comes with a peculiar sweetness to their ears. (Cant. i. 3.) They
would tell you they cannot help feeling as they do. He is their Redeemer,
their Shepherd, their Physician, their King, their strong deliverer, their
gracious guide, their hope, their joy, their all. Were it not for Him they
would be of all men most miserable. They would as soon consent that you
should take the sun out of the sky, as Christ out of their religion. Those
people who talk of “the Lord,” and “the Almighty,” and “the Deity,” and so
forth, but have not a word to say about Christ, are in anything but a right
state of mind. What saith the Scripture? “He that honoureth not the Son,
honoureth not the Father which hath sent Him. (John v. 23.) “If any man love
not the Lord Jesus Christ, let him be anathema.”—1 Cor. xvi. 22. Forgiven souls
are humble.
They cannot forget that they owe all they have and hope for to free grace,
and this keeps them lowly. They are brands plucked from the fire,—debtors
who could not pay for them-selves,—captives who must have remained in prison
forever, but for undeserved mercy,—wandering sheep who were ready to perish
when the shepherd found them,—and what right then have they to be proud? I
do not deny that there are proud saints. But this I do say, they are of all
God’s creatures the most inconsistent,—and of all God’s children, the most
likely to stumble and pierce themselves with many sorrows. Forgiveness more
often produces the spirit of Jacob:—“I am not worthy of the least of all the
mercies, and of all the truth which thou hast shewed unto thy servant;”
(Gen. xxxii. 10.) and of Hezekiah, “I shall go softly all my years;” (Isaiah
xxxviii. 15.) and of the Apostle Paul, “I am less than the least of all
saints,—chief of sinners.” (Ephes. iii. 8;—1 Tim. i. 15.) Reader, when you
and I have nothing we can call our own but sin and weakness, there is surely
no garment that becomes us so well as humility. Forgiven souls
are holy. Their
chief desire is to please Him who has saved them, to do His will, to glorify
Him in body and in spirit which are His. “What shall I render unto the Lord
for all His benefits,” is a leading principle in a pardoned heart. It was
the remembrance of Jesus showing mercy, that made Paul in labours so
abundant, and in doing good so unwearied. It was a sense of pardon that made
Zacchĉus say, “The half of my goods I give to the poor, and if I have taken
anything from any man by false accusation, I restore him fourfold.” (Luke
xix. 8.) Reader, if you point out to me believers who are in a carnal,
slothful state of soul, I reply in the words of Peter, “They have forgotten
they were purged from their old sins.” (2 Pet. i. 9.) But if you show me a
man deliberately living an unholy and licentious life, and yet boasting
that his sins are forgiven, I answer he is under a ruinous delusion, and is
not forgiven at all. I would not believe he is forgiven, if an angel from
heaven affirmed it, and I charge you not to believe it too. Pardon of sin
and love of sin are like oil and water, they will never go together. All
that are washed in the blood of Christ, are also sanctified by the Spirit of
Christ. Forgiven souls
are forgiving.
They do as they have been done by. They look over the offences of their
brethren. They endeavour to walk in love, as Christ loved them, and gave
Himself for them. They remember, how God for Christ’s sake forgave them, and
endeavour to do the same toward their fellow creatures. Has He forgiven them
pounds, and shall they not forgive a few pence? Doubtless in this, as in
everything else they come short;—but this is their desire and their aim. A
spiteful, quarrelsome Christian is a scandal to his profession. It is very
hard to believe that such an one has ever sat at the foot of the cross, has
ever considered how he is praying against himself
every
time he uses the Lord’s prayer, and
saying as it were, “Father, do not forgive me my trespasses at all.” But it
is still harder to understand what such an one would do in heaven, if he got
there. All ideas of heaven in which forgiveness has not a place, are castles
in the air, and vain fancies. Forgiveness is the way by which every saved
soul enters heaven. Forgiveness is the only title by which he remains in
heaven. Forgiveness is the eternal subject of song with all the redeemed who
inhabit heaven. Surely an unforgiving soul in heaven would find his heart
completely out of tune. Surely we know nothing of Christ’s love to us but
the name of it, if we do not love our brethren. Reader, I lay these things before you. I know well
there are great diversities in the degree of men’s attainments in grace, and
that saving faith in Christ is consistent with many imperfections. But still
I do believe, the marks I have just been naming, will generally be found
more or less in all forgiven souls. I cannot conceal from you, these marks should raise
in many minds great searchings of heart. I must be plain. I fear there are
thousands of persons called Christians, who know nothing of these marks.
They are baptized. They keep their church. They would not on any account be
reckoned infidels. But as to true repentance and saving faith, union with
Christ and sanctification of the Spirit, they are names and words of which
they know nothing at all. Now if this paper is read by such persons, it will
probably either alarm them, or make them very angry. If it makes them angry
I shall be sorry. If it alarms them I shall be glad. I want to alarm them. I
want to awaken them from their present state. I want them to take in the
great fact, that they are not yet forgiven, they have not peace with God,
and are on the high road to destruction. I must say this, for I
see no alternative. It seems neither Christian faithfulness, nor Christian
charity, to keep it back. I see certain marks of pardoned souls, laid down
in Scripture. I see an utter want of these marks in many men and women
around me. How then can I avoid the conclusion that they are not yet
forgiven? And how shall I do the work of a faithful watchman, if I do not
write it down plainly in so many words? Where is the use of crying peace,
peace, when there is no peace? Where is the honesty of acting the part of a
lying physician, and telling people there is no danger, when in reality they
are fast drawing near to eternal death?
Surely
the blood of souls would be
required at my hands, if I wrote to you anything less than the truth. If
the trumpet give an uncertain sound, who shall prepare himself for the
battle. Examine yourselves then, before this subject is
forgotten. Consider of what sort your religion is. Try it by the marks I
have just set before you. I have endeavoured to make them as broad and
general as I can, for fear of causing any heart to be sad that God has not
made sad. If you know anything of them, though it be but a little, I am
thankful, and entreat you to go forward. But if you know nothing of them in
your own experience, let me say in all affection, I stand in doubt of you. I
tremble for your soul. 1. And now before I
conclude, let me put a home question
to everyone who reads this paper. It shall
be short and plain, but it is all-important, “Are you forgiven?” I have told you all I can about forgiveness. Your
need of forgiveness,—the way of forgiveness,—the encouragement to seek
forgiveness,—the marks of having found it,—all have been placed before you.
Bring the whole subject to bear upon your own heart, and ask yourself, “Am I
forgiven? Either I am, or I am not. Which of the two is it?” You believe perhaps,
there is forgiveness of sins. You believe that Christ died for sinners, and
that He offers a pardon to the most ungodly. But are you forgiven
yourself? Have
you yourself laid hold on Christ by faith, and found peace through His
blood? What profit is there to you in forgiveness, except you get the
benefit of it? What does it profit the shipwrecked sailor, that the
life-boat is alongside, if he sticks by the wreck, and does not jump in and
escape? What does it avail the sick man, that the doctor offers him a
medicine, if he only looks at it and does not swallow it down? Except you
lay hold for your own soul, you will be as surely lost, as if there was no
forgiveness at all. Reader, if ever your sins are to be forgiven, it
must be now,—now in this life, if ever in the life to come,—now in this
world, if they are to be found blotted out when Jesus comes again. There
must be actual business between you and Christ. Your sins must be laid on
him, by faith. His righteousness must be laid on you. His blood must be
applied to your conscience, or else our sins will meet you in the day of
judgment, and sink you into hell. Oh! reader, how can you trifle, when such
things are at stake? How can you be content to leave it uncertain whether
you are forgiven? Surely that a man can make his will, insure his life, give
directions about his funeral, and yet leave his soul’s affairs in
uncertainty, is a wonderful thing indeed. 2. Let me next give a
solemn warning
to everyone who reads this paper, and knows in
his conscience he is not forgiven. Your soul is in awful danger. You may die this year.
And if you die as you are, you are lost forever. If you die without pardon,
without pardon you will rise again at the last day. There is a sword over
your head that hangs by a single hair. There is but a step between you and
death. Oh! I wonder that you can sleep quietly in your bed. You are
not yet forgiven.
Then what have you got by your religion? You go
to church. You have a Bible, you have a prayer-book, and perhaps a
hymn-book. You hear sermons. You join in services. It may be you go to the
Lord’s table. But what have you really got
after all? Any hope? Any peace? Any joy?
Any comfort? Nothing, literally nothing! You have got nothing but mere
temporal things, if you are not a pardoned soul. You are
not yet forgiven.
But you trust God will be merciful. And why
should He be merciful, if you will not seek Him in His own appointed way?
Merciful He doubtless is, wonderfully merciful to all who come to Him in
the name of Jesus. But if you choose to despise His directions, and make a
road to heaven of your own, you will find
to your cost there is no mercy for you. You are
not yet forgiven.
But you hope you shall be some day. I cannot away
with that expression. It is like thrusting off the hand of conscience, and
seizing it by the throat to stop its voice. Why are you more likely to seek
forgiveness at a future time? Why should you not seek it now? Now is the
time for gathering the bread of life. The day of the Lord is fast drawing
near, and then no man can work. (Exod. xvi. 26.) The seventh trumpet will
soon sound. The kingdoms of this world will soon become the kingdoms of our
God and of His Christ. Woe to the house which is found without the scarlet
line, and without the mark of blood upon the door! (Josh. ii. 18. Exod. xii.
13.) Well! you may not feel your need of forgiveness now.
But a time may come when you will want it. The Lord in mercy grant that it
may not then be too late. 3. Let me next give an
earnest invitation
to all who read this paper, and desire
forgiveness. I know not who you are, or what you have been in
time past, but I say boldly, Come to Christ by faith, and you shall have a
pardon. High or low, rich or poor, young men and maidens, old men and
children,—you cannot be worse than Manasseh and Paul before conversion, than
David and Peter after conversion,—come all of you to Christ, and you shall
be freely forgiven. Think not for a moment that you have some great
thing to do before you come to Christ. Such a notion is of the earth,
earthy. The Gospel bids you come just as you are. Man’s idea is to make his
peace with God by repentance, and then come to Christ at last. The Gospel
way is to receive peace from Christ first of all, and begin with Him. Man’s
idea is to amend and turn over a new leaf, and so work his way up to
reconciliation and friendship with God. The Gospel way is first to be
friends with God through Christ, and then to work. Man’s idea is to toil up
the hill, and find life at the top. The Gospel way is first to live by faith
in Christ, and then to do His will. And judge ye, every one, judge ye, which is true
Christianity? Which is the good news? Which is the glad tidings? First the
fruits of the Spirit, and then peace; or first peace, and then the fruits of
the Spirit? First sanctification and then pardon; or first pardon and then
sanctification? First service and then life; or first life and then service?
Reader, your own heart can well supply the answer. Come then willing to receive, and not thinking how
much you can bring. Come willing to take what Christ offers, and not
fancying you can give anything in return. Come with your sins, and no other
qualification but a hearty desire for pardon, and so sure as the Bible is
true you shall be saved. You may tell me you are
not worthy, you are not good enough, you are not elect. I answer, you are a
sinner, and you want to be saved, and what more do you want? You are one of
those whom Jesus came to save. Come to Him, and you shall have life. Take
with you words, and He will hear you graciously. Tell Him all your soul’s
necessities, and I know He will give heed. Tell Him you have heard He
receiveth sinners, and that you are such. Tell Him you have heard He has the
keys of life in His hand, and entreat Him to let you in. Tell Him you come
in dependence on His own promises, and ask Him to fulfil His word, and do as
He has said. Do this in simplicity and sincerity, and my soul for yours, you
shall not ask in vain. Do this, and you shall find Him faithful and just to
forgive your sins,
and to cleanse you from all unrighteousness. 4. Last of all let me
give a word of exhortation
to all forgiven souls. You are forgiven. Then know the full extent of your
privileges, and learn to rejoice in the Lord. You and I are great sinners,
but then we have a great Saviour. You and I have sinned sins that are past
man’s knowledge, but then we have the love of Christ which passeth knowledge
to rest upon. You and I feel our hearts to be a bubbling fountain of evil,
but then we have another fountain of greater power in Christ’s blood, to
which we may daily resort. You and I have mighty enemies to contend with,
but then the Captain of our salvation is mightier still, and is ever with
us. Why should our hearts be troubled? Why should we be disquieted and cast
down? O men and women of little faith that we are! Wherefore do we doubt? Let us strive every year
to grow in grace, and in the knowledge of our Lord Jesus Christ. It is sad
to be content with a little religion. It is honourable to covet the best
gifts.
We ought not to be satisfied with
the same kind of hearing, and reading, and praying which satisfied us in
years gone by. We ought to labour every year to throw more heart and reality
into everything we do in our religion. To love Christ more intensely,—to
abhor evil more thoroughly,—to cleave to what is good more closely, to watch
even our least ways more narrowly,—to declare very plainly that we seek a
country,—to put on the Lord Jesus Christ, and be clothed with Him in every
place and company,—to see more,—to feel more,—to know more,—to do
more,—these ought to be our aims and desires, every year we begin. Truly
there is room for improvement in us all. Let us try to do good to the souls of others more
than we have done hitherto. Alas! it is poor work indeed to be swallowed up
in our own spiritual concerns, and taken up with our own spiritual
ailments, and never to think of others. We forget that there is such a thing
as religious selfishness. Let us count it a sorrowful thing to go to heaven
alone, and let us seek to draw companions with us. We ought never to forget
that every man, woman, and child around us will soon be either in heaven or
hell. Let us say to others as Moses did to Jethro, “Come with us, and we
will do thee good.” (Num. x. 29.) Oh! it is indeed a true saying, “He that
watereth shall be watered himself.” (Prov. xi. 25.) The selfish Christian
has little idea what he is missing. But above all let us learn to live the life of faith
in Jesus more than we have hitherto. Ever to be found by the fountain
side,—ever to be eating Christ’s body by faith, and drinking Christ’s blood
by faith,—ever to have before our minds Christ dying for our sins,—Christ
rising again for our justification,—Christ interceding for us at God’s right
hand,—Christ soon coming again to gather us to Himself,—this is the mark
which we should have continually before our eyes. We may fall short, but let
us aim high. Let us walk in the full light of the Sun of righteousness and
then our graces will grow. Let us not be like trees on a north wall, weak
and unfruitful and cold. Let us rather strive to be like the sun-flower, and
follow the great fountain of light wherever He goes, and see Him with open
face. Oh! for an eye more quick to discern His leadings! Oh! for an ear more
ready to hear His voice! Let us say to everything
in the world that interferes between ourselves and Jesus, “stand aside;” and
let us dread allowing
ourselves in the least evil habits, lest
insensibly they rise up like a mist and hide Him from our eyes. In His light
alone shall we see light and feel warmth, and separate from Him we shall
find the world a dark and cold wilderness. We should call to mind the
request of the Athenian philosopher when the mightiest monarch on earth
asked him what he desired most: “I have,” said he, “but one request to make,
and that is that you would stand from between me and the sun.” Let this be
the spirit in which you and I are found continually. Let us think lightly of
the world’s gifts. Let us sit calmly under its cares. Let us care for
nothing, if we may only ever see the King’s face, if we may only ever abide
in Christ. And now reader, with every kind and Christian wish
for your soul’s happiness, I commend you to the only wise God, our Saviour.
He is able to keep you from falling, and to present you faultless before the
presence of His glory with exceeding joy. (Jude 24.) I ask to be always
remembered in your prayers, and remain, Your affectionate friend, |