CHAPTER II.
CHRIST ALL-SUFFICIENT AND FAITH ALL-INCLUSIVE.
— CHRIST ALL — A SON OF THE PROPHETS AT A SCHOOL OF THE PROPHETS
— FAITH TWO-FOLD, GIVES ALL — A LADY OF DISTINCTION, TAKES ALL
— A MERCHANT.
There is a radical difference between the pardon
of sins, and the purging of’ sins. Pardon is instantaneously entire,
but cleansing from sin is a process of indefinite length. Even here, however,
the analogy, though not complete, is not entirely wanting, for in the second
as in the first, the apprehension of Christ as the way, is instantaneous,
the difference being simply that in the first, the work of Christ is already
done the instant the soul believes, while in the second, the work of Christ
remains yet to be done in the future after the soul believes. In the one
the atonement has been made, and the moment it is accepted, the pardon is
complete; in the other, although the righteousness of Christ is perfect in
which the soul is to be clothed yet the work of unfolding the heart to itself
in its wants, and the unfolding of Christ to the heart from glory to glory,
in his sympathizing love, and purifying presence and power, as the soul shall
be prepared to go onward and upward from faith to faith, is a work of time
and progress.
With this single exception, however, the analogies
are complete. The period and process of conviction; the unwillingness at
first to admit the light and obey the truth; the resolve afterward to seek
and find the salvation; the vain attempts and fruitless struggles; the deceptions
and temptations of the adversary; the final perception of Christ as the way,
and the giving of all up to him, and taking him for all; the light, and comfort,
and peace that follow, and the wonder that there should ever have been a
single doubt of the reality that there is such an experience; and the wonder
still greater, that the way of faith in Christ, so plain and so simple as
it is should not have been seen at once first of all: in all these things
the analogy is perfect, no shade of difference.
The experience in no case will be exactly the
same in the second, as in the first. The experiences of no two persons are
precisely alike in every feature, or in any one feature. No two have faces
alike. All have faces, however, if they are human. No two have any one feature
precisely the same, yet all have the same features. He who should have two
mouths, or three eyes, or two noses, would be a monster, not a man. And he
who should have no mouth, or nose, or eyes, at all, would be a deformed man
at best. So in religious experience, all have the same general features,
though no two are exactly alike. And this analogy of unity in diversity holds
good between first and second conversion in any person’s experience,
the same as between the experiences of different persons.
We have here also, a correspondence with all the
processes of nature. A seed germinates in the ground and shoots up its stem
and bud to the light, where it unfolds itself to the sun, and the dews, and
the air, and drinks in the power of a second germination; and then puts forth
another bud and stem just like the first in every essential thing, while
yet no two buds are ever exactly the same, and so grows by repeating itself.
The same analogy might be traced through all the mineral kingdom, in all
crystalline formations, and through all geological
history.
This analogy as it chiefly concerns us for the
great practical purpose in view, gives us, if we have passed through the
first step, two things to guide us through the second, in the strong light
of our own past experience. First, CHRIST AS ALL-SUFFICIENT, and second,
FAITH AS ALL-INCLUSIVE.
The first grand effort of the convicted, burdened
heart, is to find relief — not by taking Christ, at once as all-sufficient
— not, perhaps, by going to Christ at all, until driven to him by repeated
failures, at the work of changing itself. And when at last driven to him,
then the first thing is — not to take Christ himself — but to seek
is salvation rather than himself.
It is a very simple lesson to learn — as
it seems when once it is learned — but one of the hardest we ever learn
in our lives; that having Christ we have salvation also, while without receiving
Christ himself we cannot have the salvation. Having the fountain we have
its issuing -- streams. Cut off from the fountain, the streams will not flow
to us. Christ offers himself to be the bridegroom of the soul. He offers
to endow his bride with all the riches of his own inheritance in the heirship
of his Father. Taking him as our bridegroom, and giving ourselves to him
as the bride espouses her husband, with him we have all he has, as well as
all he is, while without him we can have neither.
The mistake is that of seeking the salvation instead
of seeking the Saviour. Just the same mistake that the affianced would make,
if she should seek to have the possessions of him to whom she was engaged,
made over to her from him, without their union in wedlock, instead of accepting
his offer of himself, and having the hymenial. bond completed, by which he
and all he has would become hers.
Our salvation is IN Christ and with him, but not
APART from him. When a bank note or a gold coin is put into my hands, my
money is in that, not apart from it. When a deed is signed, sealed, recorded,
and delivered to me, my title is in my deed and not apart from it. My bank
note or gold coin will pay my debt and pay my journeying expenses. My deed
will ensure me my farm. Even so in Christ I have my debt cancelled, my journeying
support, and my heavenly inheritance all secure.
Perhaps this matter cannot be better illustrated
than by a sketch of the struggles and victory of
SCHOOLS OF THE PROPHETS.
Next day, seated in J.’s room, a scene occurred
between the two, never to be forgotten by either. J.’s anxiety seemed
to have reached the highest point of endurance. The heartstrings were evidently
ready to break. He wanted, he must have the fulness of the blessings of the
gospel. He could live no longer without, so he said, and so he
felt.
His friend pointed him to Jesus, saying, “Look
to Jesus! Accept of Jesus! He offers himself to you to be yours. Take him
at his word. Trust in him, and he will be all in all to
you.”
“Ah, yes, but that does not help me at all.
I am not changed at all by that. I want to be changed, made all new. I am
so vile! so fickle! so foolish! 0, for transforming
power!”
“No, but if you take Jesus to yourself as
yours, and give yourself to him to be his, that is all you need. He will
take you as you are, and keep you by his own mighty power through faith unto
salvation.”
“Ah! But, my heart! my heart! 0, that is
the same as ever! Tell me how my heart can be made
anew!”
“Trust in Jesus. His covenant is, ‘I
will write my law in your heart. I will put my truth in your mind, and ye
shall be my people, and I will be your God.’ Trust in
Jesus.”
“Ah, yes, but that does not change
me!”
“But is not Jesus able to do for you all
he promises — all you ask or think? Think of his works of mercy, and
wonders of love in the days of his flesh. He is with you now, as he was with
his disciples then, only now in spirit, then in body; but yet, to do all
you need, or can desire in the way of salvation. If you have him, you have
all he can do for you, and will ever have. He will be with you, and be yours
— your own — your Almighty Saviour — always everywhere. 0,
think what a treasure you have in Jesus!“
The Lord opened his eyes to see that Jesus was
his, and that Jesus was all in all to him, more than file had ever dared
to hope for. And hiding his face in his handkerchief, to prevent the convulsions
of his features being seen, he sobbed out, “Oh! is that it? Is that
it? Glorious! Glorious!“
Then after a moment, dropping on his knees, “Let
us pray,” he said. And slowly, yet as fast as he could control his
utterance, he thanked God over, and over, and over, and over again for the
unspeakable gift of such a Saviour to be the sinner’s own, and all his
own, and always his own, and all he ever could want in life and in death,
to atone for his sins, and take away his sins, to justify him, and sanctify
him, and glorify him. He could do nothing but praise, only just to exclaim,
“0, that all might see him, and know him, and glorify him too!“
This to him was a new and glorious era. He went forth to the battle, but
not alone; and he lives to fight, but not alone. The invisible but Almighty
Saviour is ever with him, and he knows it. Jesus is now all-sufficient, he
wants no more, for in him, and with him “all things are his, whether
life or death, or things present, or things to come,” all are his, and
he is Christ’s, and Christ is God’s.
The word of God presents to us two grand assets.
One of command and the other of promise. Faith trusts implicitly in both.
Faith obeys the one accepts the other. In the Commandments, God himself as
a requiring God — in the promises as a giving God. Faith relies upon
Him, in his commandments and his promises — yielding explicit obedience
to the one, and putting forth hand of assured confidence to take the
other.
Now, that faith is not properly faith at
all, which accepts the one and rejects or neglects the
other.
God demands of us heart and life wholly given
and consecrated to him, and true faith responds “Yes, Lord, Thou shalt
have all. All I have and am are thine.”
God gives us his Son to be our Saviour, and true
faith takes him at once and for all in all, and is satisfied saying
More than all in Thee I
find.”
Daniel obeyed the Lord and trusted in him. When
the collision came between the command of the King and the command of God,
Daniel’s faith did not waver. He obeyed God rather than man. And when
the test of the den and the lions came his faith was still unshaken; he trusted
in Him whom he served.
Now for the sake of the illustration, suppose
the faith of this noble servant of God had been reversed — suppose when
the commands of the king and of God came into collision — he had done
as, alas, too many do, obeyed man rather than God, and yet trusted to the
clemency of God that he would not be angry with him, even though he did disobey
— made the goodness of God a plea of presumption that all would be well
at last, though the word of God was set at nought. Would God, think you,
have left such a testimony on record as the exclamation of the angel: “0
Daniel! Man greatly beloved of the Lord?“ Or on the other hand, suppose
when Daniel was cast into the lion’s den, instead of trusting in his
God, that he would deliver him — suppose then that in his impotence,
bound hand and foot, he had made fight with the lions, and sought deliverance
by his own struggles with those terrible beasts of prey, how long before
he would have been torn limb from limb and devoured by the hungry monsters
of the den?
But no. When the commandment came up, Daniel made God his trust and
obeyed, even at the risk of what seemed inevitable and terrible death. And
when the danger came then again he made God his trust, and was
delivered.
The two aspects and their results of Faith
separated,
may be illustrated by two separate sketches — First, a sketch of the
struggles and failures, and final success of
Will show the futility
of trusting to the promises while neglecting the commandments, that is, the
necessity for consecration to God in order to realize the saving power
and presence of Jesus.
The lady in question is well known both in Europe
and America, both by the brilliance of her genius, and the liberality of
her gifts, but as she still living, her name is withheld.
For many years after her conversion, which was
bright and clear and happy, she served the Lord in the too frequent sort
of a life of ups and downs — knowing of nothing better for the Christian
here below, at least for the Christian of her “temper and
temperament,” as she was wont to say. The superior consistency and fervor
seen in some others, she thought was due mainly to superior natural qualities
and educational training, rather than to any deeper and fuller experimental
oneness with Christ.
A brother beloved however, at last convinced her
that, for all the children of God, herself amongst the number of course,
there is such an experimental union with Jesus as has for convenience been
named second conversion.
Months wore away after this, however, before any
earnest step was taken to make it her own. Notwithstanding her deep persuasion
of its reality, for herself it seemed an impossible height to scale. Often
and often it was called up in the heart’s own ball of legislation, and
as often with a sigh of despondency it was laid on the table
again.
At last, meeting with one zealous in this matter,
in whose mind the one aspect of faith — that of taking the promises,
seemed in the main like Aaron’s rod, to have swallowed up everything
else, especially the other aspect — that of consecration, she was persuaded
to cast herself upon Christ. And right heartily and wholly she did seem to
take him to herself, and her hopes were sanguine that he would be to her
and do for her all he had promised, and all that others
received.
A little while, and her hopes all died. The Saviour
seemed no nearer, no dearer, no more her helper than
before.
Then came another similar trial, with similar
results. And another, and another, and so on. More than a year passed in
these fruitless struggles, and many a sad, sad disappointment marked and
blotted the pages of that year’s history. The hand of the Lord, always
near at the right moment, at last placed upon her pillow — for she was
ill at the time — Upham’s “Interior Life.” She read as
she had strength to read, a few pages at a time. Coming to the chapter on
” Consecration,” she read it to the end, and said to herself,
“This I have not done. I have tried to trust in Jesus, but I
have never yet in all these attempts, made an entire surrender of myself
to him, to do his will, but only to receive his
salvation.”
Turning back she re-read every line and every word with renewed care,
and closer scrutiny. And as she read, the length and breadth of the requirements
of God upon her, came out in appalling proportions. “Right! Right! Yes,
all right,” she said. “I ought to make this full consecrations
of myself to God. But 0, how hopeless! My whole pathway in the past, in memory,
is strewn with the fragments of broken resolutions. And resolve I resolve
again?“
The book recommended a written covenant, if
convenient. After days and days of weary reflection, she concluded finally
to make the covenant of consecration as advised. The first time she took
to the easy chair as a rest from her long, long, prostration — even
for an hour — she called for pen and ink, and wrote out a covenant,
full even to the minutest details, signed it, and knelt and repeated it word
from the heart, then rose exhausted and sought again her
pillow.
Days passed by. Days of heavenly peace. Trials
came, but her “peculiar temper and temperament” did not
overcome her. She was calm as Silver Lake at sunrise and as bright and clear.
She was slow to believe, after so many failures, that success had crowned
this last act. By and by, however, the conviction that Jesus was with her,
and was keeping her in perfect peace, and would do it, was forced upon her.
And her joy in Jesus as a present Saviour — All-sufficient — was
unbounded.
From the very first, she had been willing and
more than willing that the Saviour should work in her to will and to do of
his own good pleasure. And she was really convinced, fully persuaded that
if ever the law of God should be written upon her heart in letters of light
and love, it would be by the hand of God himself in answer to faith in Jesus.
In this she was clear. She had no confidence in the flesh — none in
her own will — none in any round of duties or course of action. She
knew that God alone could fill her heart and soul with God. Why then, and
how, did she fail? Simply because she did not yield herself a living
sacrifice unto God. She gave herself up as a dead, a passive
sacrifice merely. She consecrated herself to receive merely, and not
to do. God requires of his intelligent voluntary creatures an intelligent
active consecration to himself, heart and soul yielded to do his will, as
well as receive his gifts of grace and mercy.
And in this, with all her genius and intelligence,
and all her earnestness besides, she failed entirely until, through failure
after failure, together with the timely suggestions of Professor Upham’s
Interior Life, she was led to review the past, and superadd a covenant of
consecration to her covenant of trust for grace. Then, but not before, she
came to the place to receive what the Lord had in store to bestow upon
her.
Here then, in the case of this lady, we have a clear illustration
of the necessity of that aspect and phase of faith, which obeys the command
of God — which gives up heart and soul to do the will of
God.
“Take my yoke,” says our
Saviour,“ and learn of me, for I am meek and lowly and you shall find
rest to your souls. ”But without taking the yoke, where is the learning
and the rest of the soul? “ “Whosoever will do the will
of my Father shall know of the doctrine,” he says again. But is not
the converse of this saying equally true that, Whosoever will not do His
will, shall not know the salvation?
The need of taking all, as well as giving all
will be seen as clearly in another example, that of
A little circumstance helped this decision mightily.
One of B.’s old school-mates who had been a sad laggard at school, and
no better in business, when he heard of B.’s conversion, said, “Well,
that will spoil him, he might have made a business man if he had let
religion alone, but that will kill him. He’ll never be much
now.”
This repeated to B., made him feel in his heart, “He shall see!
My religion shall not spoil me! He will yet see, and all the world will see.
I will be at the top yet.”
His ambition was fired, and as the fire of ambition
kindled into a flame in his heart, the fire of love sunk into ashy embers.
He made money rapidly, and with money came pride and vanity. The valley of
humility had little attraction for him. The gushing fountain of the waters
of life flowing forth from the foot of the Rock of Ages lost its sparkle
and freshness in his eyes. Like a balloon cut loose from its moorings he
soon mounted to a dizzy height, and grew dizzy as he mounted. Nothing but
the strong hand of a faithful Saviour kept him from tottering and tumbling
into perdition. God gave him the desire of his heart, but sent leanness into
his soul.
At last, like the prodigal that he was, he came
to himself, and all the glories of the world seemed turned into husks, as
they are; and even these no man gave to him. They all eluded his grasp, poor
as they were. His grandest schemes failed. His gourds were cut down. His
balloon was rent, and its buoyant support, poor, empty, evanescent vanity,
all escaped, letting him suddenly down into the cesspool of his own folly
and madness.
He appealed to Jesus, and was lifted out of the
pool. Gave himself up anew and was accepted. He was delivered from his
embarrassments, and made a new start in business as well as religion. Months
passed — the happiest of his life, though the soberest up to that time.
The Bible was a wellspring of joy to him. Prayer, especially the prayer of
the closet, like the astronomer’s observatory with its telescope pointed
heavenward, gave him happy and hallowed communion with the bright world above;
and the house of God, to him, was as the gate of heaven.
Nevertheless, there was still a want rising more
and more in his soul. The want — the sense of want from a sense of his
lack of — holiness. He had not yet learned to find in Jesus,
by faith, the supply of this want.
Memoirs became a delight to him, and as it proved,
a wondrous blessing. The memoir of another merchant of eminence, inspired
him with the hope of gaining a higher level, both in the joys and the utilities
of the Christian life, gave him to see as within reach even of the care-pressed,
and toil-worn business man, amongst boxes and bales, customers and notes
to meet, and paper to be discounted, sharpers to unmask and risks to encounter,
a life both of joy and peace in Jesus, and of Christian integrity, unswerving
even in the whirlpool and whirlwind of commercial bustle and
distraction.
He determined to make it his own. The way as it
appeared to him — and the only one in his view — was that of
uncompromising, and universal consecration to do the will of God. To give
himself and his business, and his influence, personal, social, domestic,
and commercial, all up to God, and hold all as the Lord’s. This he did
without reserve. He did not, like Naaman the Syrian, reserve the smallest
thing, but gave all up. And then expected as the result of this to
receive the light and joy, and comfort, promised in the word of God, and
realized by the eminent merchant whose example had moved him to take this
step.
To his deep disappointment, as well as great
astonishment, after days and days had passed, he found his cherished hopes
unfulfilled. His peace was no greater, his self-control no greater, his communion
with God no greater — the same dead level of feeling — the same
impurity of motive — the same power of wrong impulse remained. And now
what should he do? “Try again in the same way,” he thought.
It did not once occur to him to ask, “Is this process of consecration
all? Is there not something besides this?”
Perhaps — if it had occurred to him, and he had asked and asked
at the lips of the Holy One of Israel, it might have been shown to him —
that another thing was needed as much as consecration to do the will of God,
viz: faith in Jesus, for the power of Him who worketh in us, to work in Him,
both to will and to do of his own good pleasure. He did not ask,
however.
So again he gave himself up anew to Christ, to
do all his will, after surveying the past and the present and the future
more carefully and solemnly than before. But the result was failure again,
and again, and again, until wearied with repeated efforts, and discouraged
by constant failures, he was driven to the conviction that something else
must be required than consecration alone. Happily the Lord who is wonderful
in counsel and excellent in working, sent him a messenger with the message
—- “Believe in the Lord Jesus! It is faith in Christ you lack.”
He was convinced.
Then soon came another messenger and message —
unseen and unheard, save in the heart of the bewildered and struggling one.
But it was effectual there. It was Jesus saying, “Lo, I am with you
always, even unto the end of the world.” “I am he who purifieth
his people unto himself. This work that you have so long struggled to have
done on account of your consecration, is mine to do, and I will do it.
Believe, only believe in me and it shall be done.”
That was the hour and that the moment of joyful deliverance to the
struggling merchant.
Many a struggle in the race of business, had been his, but never
a harder one than this in the Christian race. And many a success had crowned
his struggles with joy, but never one in business, or even in religion, so
fruitful of happiness or usefulness as this. It was a wider and deeper opening
of the channel of commerce between his soul and the mart of pearls above
price, and it was the era of a revival, or rather of an enlargement of a
life-long commerce, to be consummated at last by his removal to the fountainhead
of that commerce itself.
Now the one point of especial interest, of this
illustration in the present case, is the necessity shown by it of the faith
that takes Christ as he is offered to the soul, as the Saviour from
sin, just as the case of the distinguished lady given before shows the necessity
of the faith that gives the soul to Jesus a living sacrifice
to do all he requires.
Let either element of faith be lacking, and the soul will be like
a boat with one side oar, which goes round and round but makes no progress,
only drifts with the stream whirling as its drifts. Or like a bird with a
broken wing, whirling over and over and falling as it
whirls.
“Verily, I say unto you, except ye be
converted and become as little children,” says our Saviour, “ye
shall not enter into the kingdom of Heaven.”
The child is both obedient and docile. His father commands and he
knows it is right to obey, and trusts entirely in his father’s judgment
and integrity, doing at once what his father bids, even when he knows nothing
at all of the reasons for the command.
So again, his father promises, and he counts upon
the fulfillment of the promise with the most implicit
Confidence.
His father states some fact or lays down some
principle, he believes it at once, and acts as if it was
true.
And this is our Divine Master’s illustration
of the faith which opens the gates of heaven to the soul — it must be
both obedient and trustful.