Arthur Pink
This is a subject which is rarely touched upon today—yet
in certain quarters especially, there is a real need that it should be dealt
with. By inward impressions we have reference to some passage of Scripture
or some verse of a hymn being laid upon the mind with such force that it
rivets the attention, absorbs the entire inner man and is accompanied by
such an influence, that the partaker thereof is deeply affected.
For example: a person may have lived a most godless life,
utterly unconcerned about spiritual things and eternal interests, when
suddenly (perhaps while he was indulging the lusts of the flesh, his
thoughts being entirely occupied with carnal objects), there sounded in his
conscience the words, "Be sure your sin will find you out!" So forcibly is
he impressed, that it seems as though someone must have audibly uttered
those words, and he turns to discover the speaker, only to find he is alone.
So deep is the impression, he cannot shake it off, and he is convicted of
his lost condition, and made to seek the Savior.
No doubt each one who reads the above paragraph has heard
or read some such case, perhaps many like it. And quite possibly a number of
our readers are distressed in that there has been nothing in their own
experience which corresponds thereto; and because there is not, they greatly
fear they have never been truly converted. But such an inference is quite
unwarranted. God does not act uniformly in the work of regeneration,
any more than He does in creation or in providence; and we
have met many who never had any such experience as we have described
above—yet whose salvation we could not doubt for a moment. "The wind blows
where it wills, and you hear the sound thereof—but can not tell whence it
comes and where it goes: so is everyone that is born of the Spirit" (John
3:8). Sometimes the wind blows with great velocity, at other times very
gently and almost imperceptibly. But how foolish I would be if, seeing the
leaves moving in the breeze, I denied the wind was blowing at all, merely
because it came not with hurricane intensity!
The blowing of the wind is to be ascertained by the
effects produced. Necessarily so, for the wind is invisible. But though
the wind is invisible, the results it produces are not so: they can
be seen and felt, and it is by the breeze on our face and the stirring of
the leaves—that we perceive its actions, even though trees are not being
uprooted thereby. "So is everyone that is born of the Spirit." The Holy
Spirit is invisible—yet His presence may be ascertained by the
effects which He produces. Sometimes He comes to a soul as it were in gale
force, striking terror into the heart and carrying everything before Him;
sweeping away the refuge of lies in which we were sheltering, tearing down
our self-righteousness at a single stroke, and bowing us in conscious fear
and conviction before Him. Thus it was in the case of Saul of Tarsus. But He
does not always act thus—to other souls He comes as the gentle dove, so that
His operations are imperceptible at the time, like the cases of Nathaniel
and Lydia.
A gardener sows his seed, and for a while knows not
whether his effort is going to meet with any success. He scans his
ground—but as yet sees no results. Perhaps he begins to worry, fearing that
his soil is unsuited to such vegetables or flowers. But a little later his
fears are dispelled: the appearing of green shoots above the earth is the
proof that his seed has germinated. In like manner, here is one deeply
exercised about his state. He has sat under the preaching of some faithful
servant of Christ and has sought to appropriate unto himself the Word of
Life. But into what kind of soil (heart) has that Seed found abode? Is he
but a wayside, a stony, a thorny—or a good-ground hearer? (Matthew 13). That
is the question which causes him so much concern. And rightly so, for there
are very few good-ground hearers. And how is his problem to be solved? How
is he to make sure whether he is a good-ground hearer? By the results,
the fruits produced in his life.
But to return more directly to the point of inward
impressions. After reading the last three paragraphs, probably some are
inclined to say, Until I experience something like what you describe in the
opening paragraph I shall be afraid to regard myself as genuinely converted:
I must be sure that the Gospel has come to me not "in word only—but
also in power and in the Holy Spirit" (1 Thessalonians 1:5). A very
wise decision, my friend. But how are you going to determine whether the
Gospel has come to you "in power and in the Holy Spirit?" By your senses? By
your emotions? By some sentence of Scripture being deeply impressed on your
mind? That is not the right way of ascertaining. It is easy to be deceived
at this point, for Satan can deeply impress the mind and stir the emotions,
and when it serves his purpose employ the very words of Scripture, as he did
when tempting the Savior Himself. No, it is by some other, some surer way
than that, you must determine your spiritual state.
Whether or not the Gospel has come to me "in power and in
the Holy Spirit" is to be ascertained by the effects produced in me:
not transient effects—but permanent; not simply in my emotions—but in my
life. If the Gospel has come to me "in power," it has made me realize
that I am a lost sinner—guilty and undone; it has made me realize that I can
do nothing to save myself, nothing which can win God's favor. If the Gospel
has come to me "in power," it has shut me up to Christ! It has not only
revealed my dire need of Him—but has shown me how perfectly suited He
is to my dreadful case, and how ready and willing He is to cleanse me from
my sins and to heal my wounds. If the Gospel has come to me "in power," it
has made me come to Christ as an empty-handed beggar, casting myself on His
mercy, and closing with His gracious offer to receive me, and by no means
cast me out. If I have done this, it matters not an iota whether some
particular verse of Scripture has been deeply impressed on my mind or not.
In the same way we may arrive at a well-grounded
assurance of our acceptance with God. There are some who can testify
that for a long season they remained in Doubting Castle, wondering whether
they were the children of God or whether they were not. When suddenly the
Lord spoke those words to their troubled souls, "I have loved you with an
everlasting love!" That text came to them with such sweetness and power,
that their soul was quite melted down, and all their fears were removed. But
there are many gracious souls who have never shared this experience: no
specific verse of Scripture has been impressed upon them, revealing that
they are the Lord's. Are we then to assume, must they conclude, that the
absence of such an experience is proof they are yet in a state of nature? By
no means. Yes, we go further: a Scripturally grounded assurance must rest
upon a surer foundation than that, one that is less variable and more
durable.
However powerfully a verse may be impressed on the mind,
that impression will gradually fade. However sweet and melting may be the
accompanying effect, it will not remain with us. Frames and feelings are but
evanescent, and Satan may be the inspirer of them. The Scriptural method for
obtaining assurance, is for us to prayerfully and impartially examine and
test ourselves by the Word of God, to see whether or not we bear in
ourselves those marks by which God's children are described and may be
identified: such as mourning over sin, hungering after righteousness,
grieving over unbelief, longing for conformity to Christ's image, separation
from the world, walking in the way of God's commandments, distrust of self,
praying daily for Divine grace. "The testimony of an enlightened conscience,
judging by the Word of God, and deciding in our favor, that by His grace we
have been enabled to take up the yoke of Christ—is in some respects a more
satisfactory evidence that we are His and He is ours—than if an angel were
sent from Heaven to tell us that our names are written in the Book of Life!"
(John Newton).
But let us not be misunderstood about what we have said
above. Most certainly we do not deny that many of God's people have had
verses of Scripture powerfully impressed upon their minds, nor is it our
purpose here to discount the value and comfort of such an experience. No;
rather do we desire to point out the tendency of many to ascribe a greater
virtue to them than they justly possess, and to warn against some of the
dangers attaching thereto. We have met those who attributed more importance
to inward impressions—than they did to outward walking in
God's precepts; who would rather have a verse of Scripture laid with power
on their mind—than to have its spiritual meaning opened to their
understanding; who placed a higher value on the comfort they received from
some promise being spoken to them—than they did of grace being given to deny
self, take up the cross and follow Christ outside the camp.
If you ask some professing Christians, who are thoroughly
carnal and worldly, what is the ground of their hope for eternity, they will
tell you they have no fear of the judgment to come because at such and such
a time a certain Scripture was "given to" or "spoken to" them, and on that
impression they rest, without knowing anything personally and experimentally
of the sanctifying operations of the Holy Spirit. We have no hesitation in
saying that such people have been misled by their own deceitful hearts—or
deluded by Satan posing as an angel of light. On the other hand, were we to
approach some, whom charity requires us to account regenerated persons—yet
who are altogether lacking in assurance and are full of doub—and inquire of
them the ground of such fears about their state, they would answer, "I never
have had a Scripture promise applied to me as other Christians have, and
therefore I must conclude that I am not an heir to God's promises." These
poor souls need to be taught the way of the Lord more perfectly.
That which we wish to particularly press upon the reader,
is the vital importance and imperative necessity of his faith resting upon a
sure foundation: that sure foundation is the Word of God—and not any painful
convictions, or happy feelings, which we may have experienced; not resting
on some deep impressions on our mind of some passage of Scripture—but on the
Scripture itself. It is not a question of how complete a discovery has been
made to me of the plague of my heart or how utterly vile I see and feel
myself to be—but have I really taken the place of a sinner before God, which
matters the most. It is not—do I sufficiently feel my need of Christ, or do
I clearly enough discern His excellencies and suitability to my case—but
have I betaken myself to the sinner's Savior and received Him as my own by a
childlike faith? Nor is it the degree or strength of faith, which renders it
efficacious: no matter how weak it is, if it clings to the right Object—it
is sufficient.
Not only is there the danger of being deceived by Satan,
and of resting our faith on a wrong foundation—but those who prize so highly
these inward impressions generally turn for comfort to a fickle source. Even
former experiences of God's kindness and present marks of grace within the
soul, while good in their place, are like marks on a sundial, which say
nothing in a cloudy and dark day, when the sun shines not. If we would have
our comfort rest on a solid and unchanging foundation, we must betake
ourselves to immediate and direct believing, making Christ and His
righteousness the sole ground of our peace. Happy feelings and evidences
of grace, are to be made matters of comfort only as they are agreeable to
the unerring rule of God's Word, and as the Spirit breathes upon us, and by
that Word in our heart bears witness with our spirit—that we are the
children of God.
The tendency to draw a false inference from the absence
of such inward impressions, has been mentioned above—but let us now enlarge
a little thereon. It is highly probable that God often withholds the
sealing testimony of His Spirit from some souls, not because they are
yet in a state of nature—but because they make an idol of comfortable
feelings. The only sure ground of faith, is the Word of God and the
Truth there spoken, and not our feelings. Comfortable feeling is not
to be expected, before we believe the Word of promise. If we have any
feeling of God's love, before our believing of His love—then we
shall be foolish enough to build our faith upon transient frames and
influences. Many do go wrong at this very point and build their faith on
feelings of God's love rather than upon what He has said, and as their
feelings constantly fluctuate so does their faith. This is the reason why
there is no stability in such—on the mountain-top one day, in the
slough of despond the next.
God is jealous, and therefore does He often withhold the
comforts of His Spirit, until we give Him the glory of His Truth by
believing His love as it is revealed in the Scriptures. The woman with the
issue of blood had no sensible feeling of virtue coming from Christ,
until she touched the hem of His garment (Luke 8:43-48). Grieve not, if a
sense of the plague of your heart keeps you poor and needy, empty and
humble: Christ and His fullness will then be the more precious. Remember it
is God's way to humble, before He exalts. Not only has the
Lord "heard the desire of the humble," but the assurance is given, "You will
establish their heart" (Psalm 10:17 margin). Blessed indeed is that promise,
"He raises up the poor out of the dust, and lifts the needy out of the
dunghill; that He may set him with princes, even with the princes of His
people" (Psalm 113:7, 8)—a promise which belongs to no wealthy, puffed up,
and self-satisfied Laodicean.
God's way of bringing home His promises to the hearts of
His people, varies considerably. If you are able to plead a promise and make
it a matter of prayer before God, that is much to be thankful for. If the
promise comes not to you—go to the promise of the Word and carry it to the
Throne of Grace. Say to the Lord, "Here is a promise which is suited to my
case: may it please Your gracious Majesty to set it on my heart to my
comfort." Depend more on the promise itself, than on any felt power and
sensible influence in which it may come to you: the latter may vary, the
former remains unchanged. God is most glorified, when we go out of ourselves
and rely wholly on what He is in Himself. Faith is strongest and healthiest,
when we live on bare promises without the supports of sense. Give God the
credit for His veracity. Do not seek rest in the streams of blessing
and comfort—but in the Fountain.
When a looking and waiting for these inward impressions
becomes the rule of duty, the ground of faith, and the foundation of
comfort—the Word of God is grievously slighted, if not altogether set aside.
A Divinely-given faith answers or responds to God's faithfulness in the
promise, just as it stands in the written Word, without expecting or looking
for any further confirmation of the warrant of faith. But a faith which
answers to something other than the bare Word of God—to some impressions of
it on the mind with light and power—is a fanciful faith, for it makes these
impressions and feelings, the ground and warrant of believing. How justly
may God deliver up to delusion, those who make an idol of their feelings and
refuse to rest directly on that Word of Truth in which alone the Divine
faithfulness is pledged.
A Divinely-given faith perceives the naked promise of
God, as it is proclaimed in the gracious call and free offer of the Gospel,
to be a sure and sufficient foundation for faith to rest upon, without any
powerful impressions of it on the mind. If such impressions and comforts are
given, they are not looked upon as affording any better warrant or surer
title to believe the promise than they had before, nor do the possessors of
such faith regard impressions and feelings—no, not even if they are still
further brought before them in a vision or dream—as rendering the promise
more sure of accomplishment that it was previously as recorded in the Holy
Scriptures. A faith which will not rest on God's bare promise, which dare
not meddle with it as it stands in the written Word until it has additional
warrant from inward impressions—is a fanciful and worthless faith.
A Divinely-given faith stands not in the wisdom of
man—but in the power of God; whereas a faith which has impressions for its
foundation, and comfortable feelings for its object—stands in the wisdom of
the author of such impressions and feelings, whom we greatly fear is in many
instances an evil spirit, who finding other methods unsuccessful,
transforms himself as an angel of light that he may delude the unwary. Satan
is determined to be worshiped in one way or another, and if he cannot secure
our homage through the grosser baits by which he catches others, he
will make use of our convictions and emotions. When any
impression of which he is the author is rested in, he has gained his object
and attained his desire. It matters not to him whether wood or iron, silver
or gold—or happy frames is our idol—so long as it is our idol.
A Divinely-given faith will honor God and His Word
without impressions, comfortable feelings—or even the endorsement of
reason—yes, against the dictates of reason. Such was the faith of Abraham,
the father of all those who believe. For when God promised him a son in his
old age, he "considered not his own body now dead, when he was about a
hundred years old, neither yet the deadness of Sarah's womb: he staggered
not at the promise of God through unbelief—but was strong in faith, giving
glory to God" (Romans 4:19, 20). Such is the faith of God's elect: not
merely a fair-weather commodity—but a supernatural grace which surmounts the
storm. But a faith which rests on impressions is extinguished as soon
as the impression wears off: such a faiths fails its possessor in the cloudy
and dark day—for its foundation is but a sandy and shifting one. Then look
well, my reader, to your faith: to its origin, to the foundation it rests
upon, to its enduring power.
N.B. How striking and blessed is it to observe the course
followed by the Lord Jesus when He was tempted of Satan. Just previously an
audible voice from Heaven had witnessed to His Divine Sonship—yet when the
Devil assaulted Him, saying, "If You are the Son of God," how did He repulse
the Enemy's attack? Not by saying, "I know that I am the Son of God because
I have recently heard the voice of My Father testifying, 'This is My beloved
Son, in whom I am well pleased.'" No, He did not: instead, He had recourse
to the written Word alone, saying, "It is written." "It is written again,"
"It is written!" And this, dear reader, was recorded for our instruction.
Here, too, the Savior has left His people an example—that they should follow
His steps.