Christian Progress
John Angell James, 1853
NECESSITY of Christian
Progress
All spiritual good things tend to
improvement. A right principle must, from its very nature, push outward and
onward as long as there is in contact with it anything that is wrong, for
there is an expansive power in all truth and virtue. It would be strange if
this were not the case with true religion. It is with goodness as with
money, the possession augments the desire to possess more. So that they who
are contented with such a measure of piety as they already suppose they
possess, give fearful evidence that they have none. And this ought to sound
alarm at once in the ears of a very large number of people. "Is it true,"
they should say, "that a self-satisfied condition is proof of little or no
true religion; that a quiet, easy, contented mind, without any concern to
advance, is an evidence that the soul is not in a good and safe state; then
ought I not to fear that I am deluding myself, since certainly I know very
little about such a solicitude as this? Have I not, since I made a
profession, seemed to reach the summit of my hopes, and settled down into a
state of religious competency upon a supposition that I am rich enough
already?"
It may be well for the fears of some to be thus excited;
and that they should ask such questions about their real condition. An
uninquisitive state of mind cannot be a safe one. It is too momentous an
affair to be treated in this "free and easy" sort of manner. It would be far
more rational for a young tradesman just or lately started in life to be
careless and questionless about his advance or retrogression, than for a
young Christian lately set out on the journey to heaven. "Am I making
progress?" should be his inquiry. Just for this reason—Progress is the law
of true religion. This appears —
First. From Scripture COMMANDS.
We shall select only a few of the most prominent. How impressive is such
language as the following—"I pray that out of his glorious riches he may
strengthen you with power through his Spirit in your inner being, so that
Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith. And I pray that you, being
rooted and established in love, may have power, together with all the
saints, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ,
and to know this love that surpasses knowledge--that you may be filled to
the measure of all the fullness of God." Ephes. 3:16-19. "Then we will no
longer be infants, tossed back and forth by the waves, and blown here and
there by every wind of teaching and by the cunning and craftiness of men in
their deceitful scheming. Instead, speaking the truth in love, we will in
all things grow up into him who is the Head, that is, Christ. From him the
whole body, joined and held together by every supporting ligament, grows and
builds itself up in love, as each part does its work." Ephes. 4:14-16. Read
also Phil. 1:9-11; Col. 1:9-11 Heb. 6:1-3; 13. 20-21; 1 Peter 2:1; 2 Pet.
1:5; and especially 2 Pet. 3:18—"Grow in grace, and in the knowledge of our
Lord and Savior Jesus Christ." May I request you to lay down this volume,
open your Bible, and read these passages, remembering that it is God who
speaks to you in every one of them, and commands you to go forward.
Secondly. Consider the scriptural ILLUSTRATIONS of the
nature of true religion. We take one first
from the Old Testament, and a beautiful one it is—the rise and progress of
the SUN.
"The path of the just is as the shining light, that shines more and more
unto the perfect day."—Prov. 4:18. It is not the glimmer of the
glow-worm—nor the transient blaze of the meteor—nor the wasting ray of the
candle—but the grand luminary of heaven "coming out of his chamber and
rejoicing as a strong man to run a race." And a very beautiful sight it is,
to see a soul rising out of darkness, not stopping on the verge of the
horizon, but ascending higher and higher--not merely beginning its course
and remaining amid fogs, clouds, and mists--but shining brighter and
brighter at every step with increasing knowledge, faith, and love. But is
this shining light the picture of our path? There is no such command given
as, "Sun, stand still," therefore it rebukes a stationary profession. It is
a rising and an advancing, not a declining, sun--therefore it rebukes a
backsliding state. There may be an occasional cloud, or even in some cases,
as of David and Peter, a temporary eclipse. But when did the sun fail of
carrying on its early dawn to a perfect day? Be thankful then, for "the day
of small things," despise it not. But be not satisfied with it. True
religion must be a shining and a progressive light.
Among these scriptural illustrations there is none more
frequent or better known than
LIFE. It is scarcely necessary to quote
passages, they are so numerous, and so familiar. "He who believes has
everlasting life." "By this we know we have passed from death unto life."
"He came that we might have life, and that we might have it more
abundantly." "Your life is hid with Christ in God." "When Christ who is our
life shall appear." True religion is a new, a spiritual, a divine, a
heavenly life--the life of God in the soul of man. Now it is the law of
all life to progress. It is so with vegetable and animal vitality, and it
must of necessity be so with that which is spiritual. Mark the new born
babe—there is a spark of life, always very feeble, sometimes scarcely
distinguishable from death. Yet there is life. The babe becomes a child, the
child a youth, the youth a man. Life is progressive, is not this, I say, the
selected, the frequent emblem of the Christian?
In support of this illustration of progress in true
religion, we may refer to one of the passages already quoted—"As new-born
babes desire the sincere milk of the word that you may grow thereby." Newly
converted people are babes lately born, little infants, feeble in everything
that pertains to spiritual life--yet there is life. They are not like
still-born children, that cannot grow, but are quickened from a death of sin
to a life of righteousness. What is dead cannot grow; as what is perfect
does not need to grow. An unregenerated sinner can never grow in spiritual
life. He must first be made alive; and when he is alive he must grow. This
constitutes the difference between "living" in the Spirit, and "walking" in
the Spirit. There is first the principle of life, then its manifestation in
activity. So young Christians are very far from being what they are yet to
be, even on earth; as all Christians are very far from being what they are
to be in heaven. The child of God is born to grow as well as to live—and
God, who has ordained the growth, has provided for it in the milk of the
word. The representation of Leighton in his exquisitely beautiful exposition
of this passage is so striking that I shall introduce a long quotation from
it, which no one will deem too long—
"The whole estate and course of the Christian’s spiritual
life here is called their infancy, not only as opposed to the corruption and
wickedness of their previous state, but likewise as signifying the weakness
and imperfection of it at the best in this life, compared with the
perfection of the life to come; for the weakest beginnings of grace are by
no means so far below the highest degree of it possible in this life, as the
highest degree falls short of the state of glory—so that, if one measure of
grace is called infancy in respect of another, much more is all grace
infancy in respect of glory. And sure as for duration, the time of our
present life is far less to eternity than the time of our natural infancy is
to the rest of our life; so that we may still be called but new or lately
born. Our best pace and strongest walking in obedience here, is but the
stepping of children when they begin to walk by being held by the hand, in
comparison of the perfect obedience in glory, the stately, graceful steps
with which, on the heights of Zion, we shall walk in the light of the Lord;
when ‘we shall follow the Lamb wherever he goes.’ All our present knowledge,
is but the ignorance of infants, and all our expressions of God and of his
praises, are but as the first stammerings of children (which are, however,
very pleasant both to child and parent), in comparison of the knowledge we
shall have of him hereafter, ‘when we shall know as we are known;’ and of
those praises we shall offer him, when that new song shall be taught us,
‘which is sung before the throne, and before the four living creatures, and
which none can learn but those who are redeemed from the earth.’—Rev. 14:3.
A child has in it a reasonable soul; and yet, by the indisposedness of the
body, it is so bound up, that its difference from the beasts, and its
partaking of a rational nature, is not so apparent as afterwards; and thus
the spiritual life that is from above infused into a Christian, though it
does act and work in some degree, yet it is so clogged with natural
corruption still remaining in him, that the excellency of it is much clouded
and obscured; but in the life to come it shall have nothing at all
encumbering and indisposing it. And this is the Apostle Paul’s doctrine—‘For
we know in part, and we prophesy in part. But when that which is perfect is
come, then that which is in part shall be done away. When I was a child I
spoke as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child; but when I
became a man, I put away childish things. For now we see, through a glass,
darkly; but then face to face—now I know in part; but then shall I know even
as I am known.’—1 Cor. 13:9-12.
"And this is the wonder of divine grace, that brings so
small beginnings to that height of perfection that we are not able to
conceive of that a little spark of true grace, that is not only
indiscernible to others, but often to the Christian himself--should yet be
the beginning of that condition wherein they shall shine brighter than the
sun in the skies. The difference is great in our natural life, in some
persons especially, that they who in infancy were so feeble, and wrapped up
like others in swaddling clothes, yet afterwards come to excel in wisdom and
in the knowledge of the sciences, to be commanders of great armies, or to be
kings; but the distance is far greater, and more admirable, between the
weakness of these new-born babes, the small beginnings of grace, and their
after perfection, that fullness of knowledge that we look for, and that
crown of immortality that all are born to who are born of God.
"But as in the faces and actions of some children,
characters and presages of their after greatness have appeared, as a
singular beauty in Moses’ countenance, as they write of him, and as Cyrus
was made king among the shepherd’s children, with whom he was brought up, so
also certainly in these children of God there be some characters and
evidences that they are born for heaven by their new birth. That holiness
and meekness, that patience and faith, that shine in the actions and
sufferings of the saints, are characters of their Father’s image, and show
their high original, and foretell their glory to come; such a glory as does
not only surpass the world’s thoughts, but the thoughts of the children of
God themselves. ‘It does not yet appear what we shall be; but we know that,
when He shall appear, we shall be like him; for we shall see him as he
is.’—1 John 3:2."
We now, in prosecution of the scriptural illustrations of
religious progress, take up the idea of a
SPRING.
"Everyone who drinks this water will be thirsty again, but whoever drinks
the water I give him will never thirst. Indeed, the water I give him will
become in him a spring of water welling up to eternal life." John 4:13-14.
Permit me to direct your fixed attention to the beauties of this passage.
While the pleasures of the world, "the lust of the flesh, the pride of life,
and the lust of the eyes," are but as drops which inflame rather than allay
the thirst of the natural man after true happiness, or at best leave him
unsatisfied; the grace of Christ in renewing and sanctifying the soul, leads
it to the true fountain of bliss, and compels it in the fullness of
satisfaction, to exclaim, "I have found it; I have found it." And this
source of happiness is not far off, for it is within and not outside its
possessor. "It shall be in him a well of water." He carries the spring about
with him. Hence it is said, "The good man shall be satisfied from himself."
And it is also abundant, an unfailing source, a constant supply, a well ever
accessible and never dry.
But it is not merely the satisfying but progressive
nature of true religion which is here represented. It is a beautiful
image—not a stagnant pool, nor a well so deep as that its waters cannot
rise; but a spring whose sparkling and gushing ebullitions shall be ever
bubbling up, and forming an ever-living fountain that flows at all seasons
of the year, in heat or cold, and in all the circumstances of the weather,
whether foul or fair, wet or dry. True religion always lives, always shows
its beauties--and amid all changes of external circumstances. But this
inward spring of grace in the soul is represented as rising higher and
higher, and never stopping until it reaches eternal life; swelling into a
stream which refreshes others in its course to eternity, making all around
it fruitful and pleasant; just like a river flowing through a country which
irrigates the land and covers it on every hand with fertility and beauty.
I ask– Is this descriptive of your religion? Do you know
anything of this indwelling of the Spirit of God? This inward supply from a
divine source of sanctity and bliss? These holy ebullitions of sanctified
feeling? This rising up of an inward principle to a divine source, an
element of life issuing from the parent fountain, and returning to its
primitive source—a something godlike, which aspires to God—heavenly, which
aspires to heaven—eternal, which rests not until it has reached the eternal?
What of all this is in you? Is it mystery, or plainness to you? It is
immensely important that we give ourselves time and leisure to enquire into
this matter.
The next illustration I borrow is that which we find in
our Lord’s teaching about the
SEED. "The earth brings forth fruit of
herself—first the blade, then the ear, after that the full corn in the
ear."—Mark 4:28. This language is rather a description of the growth of
grace in the heart, than, like the grain of mustard seed, the
advancement of the kingdom of Christ in the world. It is an allusion to one
of the beautiful developments and slow processes of nature in regard to
vegetable life. How gradually does the principle of vitality evolve, its
first germinating being imperceptible to the most observant eye. Yet from
that invisible germ, there grows up at length the strong and verdant blade.
Then the ear gently and gradually comes forth from its envelopments. This
under the genial influence of the heavens and the fertilizing power of the
earth swells into the plump, ripe corn, ready for the reaper’s sickle.
Instructive and beautiful emblem of that more precious
seed of the Word of God which is sown in the heart of man by God’s
regenerating work! It is at first small, feeble, tender, scarcely
perceptible, like time first shoots of the grain in the earth. It may be the
early impressions upon a child’s mind listening to his mother’s gentle
admonition and familiar instruction. Or it may be a conviction lodged in the
soul under some melting or alarming sermon. Or it may be a serious
reflection occasioned by some painful visitation of Providence. God has
various methods of entering by his grace into the soul of the unconverted
sinner. The seed may lie long like the grain in the earth before any sign of
vegetable life is perceptible; yet all this while the vital process may be
going on. At length it rises above the ground and growth is visible, which
continues until the result already described is apparent. But it needs the
greatest watchfulness and care, for it is peculiarly susceptible of injury
and destruction.
The last illustration I take up is that of a
RACE.
"The most splendid solemnities which ancient history has transmitted to us
were the Olympic Games. Historians, orators, and poets abound with
references to them, and their most sublime imagery is borrowed from these
renowned exercises. The games were solemnized every fifth year by an
infinite concourse of people from almost all parts of the world. They were
observed with the greatest pomp and magnificence; many victims were slain in
honor of the heathen deities, and was was a scene of universal festivity and
joy. We find that the most formidable and opulent sovereigns of those times
were competitors for the Olympic crown. Even the lords of Imperial Rome and
emperors of the world entered their names among the candidates, and
contended for the envied palm; judging their felicity completed and the
career of all human glory and greatness happily terminated if they could but
interweave the Olympic garland with the laurels they had purchased in the
fields of war."
Alas for the littleness of earthly ambition and the
narrow range of human vanity. It is not to be wondered at that an institute
so celebrated should be employed by the sacred writers to illustrate the
sublimer objects which they had to propose, and to stimulate the desires
which they were anxious to awaken. Hence the impressive language of the
apostle—"Remember that in a race everyone runs, but only one person gets the
prize. You also must run in such a way that you will win. All athletes
practice strict self-control. They do it to win a prize that will fade away,
but we do it for an eternal prize." 1 Cor. 9:24-25
No subject could be more familiar than this to the minds
of the Corinthians, who were often spectators of similar games celebrated
upon the isthmus on which their city was situated, and hence denominated the
Isthmian Games. Among these games the foot race sustained a distinguished
place. To this, express allusion is made by the apostle in writing to the
Hebrews, among whom these national festivities had been introduced by Herod
the Great. "Therefore seeing we also are compassed about with so great a
cloud of witnesses, let us lay aside every weight, arid the sin which does
so easily besets us, and let us run with endurance the race that is set
before us, looking unto Jesus the author and finisher of our faith."—Heb.
12:1-2.
Every expression in these two passages is allusive and
instructive. The enrolled competitor underwent for several months, like the
men who engage in those disgraceful feats, our prize fights--a rigid system
of physical training. Hence the expression, "He who strives for the mastery
is temperate in all things." The candidates were obliged to keep in the
course marked out, and to observe all the rules prescribed; wherefore it is
said, "If a man strive for masteries yet is he not crowned except he strive
lawfully."—2 Tim. 2:5. The racers laid aside their garments and ran nearly
naked. Hence the exhortation—"Let us lay aside every weight—(every
unnecessary care, every lust both of the flesh and of the mind) and the sin
which does so easily beset us." The race was carried on amid an immense
crowd of spectators, hence the language—"We also are compassed about with so
great a cloud of witnesses." The prize was merely honorary, consisting only
of a chaplet of leaves, which withered before it was worn—hence it is said,
"They do it to obtain a corruptible crown, but we an incorruptible one." How
finely does this illustrate that sublime passage in the epistle to the
Philippians—"Not that I have already obtained all this, or have already been
made perfect, but I press on to take hold of that for which Christ Jesus
took hold of me. Brothers, I do not consider myself yet to have taken hold
of it. But one thing I do--Forgetting what is behind and straining toward
what is ahead, I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has
called me heavenward in Christ Jesus." Philip. 3:12-14. Every term here
employed refers to the ancient foot race, and the whole passage beautifully
represents the ardor which fired the competitors when engaged in the
contest.
Such, and so impressive, is the description given us by
the Holy Spirit in the Scriptures, of the nature of true religion; of the
Christian life; and it is sufficient to make all somewhat anxious about
their own state and to reveal the utter worthlessness and hollowness of the
pretensions of many to the possession of true piety. Does not this
illustrative figure set forth more forcibly and vividly than any mere
language could do--that the Christian life is a state of self-denial—intense
desire—deep solicitude—of strenuous, unremitted, unwearied action—and of
constant progress?
How was the soul of the racer filled and fired with the
hope of success? How patiently were the necessary privations borne? How was
every muscle strained and the speed quickened to the uttermost, by the fear
of defeat--and the prospect of victory? Reader, whoever you are whose eye
shall wander over these pages, pause, I beseech you, and ponder this
subject. This is the inspired description of true religion, and must,
therefore, be the correct one. Does your religion answer to this? Know you
anything of such solicitude for the salvation of your soul, such labor to
attain it, as are implied in this representation? Is your religion really a
race? Does your eye often gaze upon the crown of life, and your bosom swell
with the mighty aspiration after glory, honor, and immortality? Oh, do not
deceive yourself. Look at this, there is something more than mere profession
here! Something more than the easy and careless bearing of the Christian
name which many exhibit.
But it is PROGRESS that the subject now leads us
especially to contemplate. The racer was not only in action, but in
progress. It was with him not merely bounding off with a vigorous start; nor
exerting himself to the uttermost of his strength for a part of the course;
but a continual going onwards. Hence the beautiful language of the
apostle—"Forgetting the things that are behind, and reaching forth unto
those which are before." One who was running in the ancient race would not
stop to look back to see how much ground he had run over, or which of his
companions had fallen or lingered on the way. He would keep his eye fixed on
the goal and the prize, and strain every nerve to reach them. If his
attention were diverted for a single moment it might hinder his speed and
might be the means of his losing the crown. Onwards, onwards, was the mighty
impulse which stimulated him in his course. So was it with the apostle. He
fixed his eye intently on the prize, and allowed no past attainments as a
Christian, or success as a minister, to make him linger on the way. So must
it be with us. No measure of knowledge, of faith, or holiness, must satisfy
us, but we must be ever making advances in the divine life.
Thirdly. If anything more be necessary to convince us of
the necessity of progress, consider
Scriptural REBUKES.
How often did our Lord reprove his disciples for the infantile feebleness of
their faith; and with what just severity did the apostle reproach the
believing Hebrews for their lack of progress. "When," said he, "for the time
you ought to be teachers, you have need that one teach you again which be
the first principles of the oracles of God; and have become such as have
need of milk, and not of strong meat."—Heb. 5. 12. Could anything be more
reproachful of their culpable negligence, their shameful indolence, their
voluntary backwardness in seeking after divine knowledge? They were babes
when they ought to have been, and might have been--of full and matured
strength. They were content with the very rudiments of Christianity, the
alphabet of true religion. It satisfied them just to have light enough to
grope after salvation, and to walk on in dim twilight. Alas! alas! How many
are like them. How many are content with the smallest elements of knowledge
and experience. Talk with them, observe them years after they have made a
profession of religion, and you will find them possessed of only the crudest
notions and the most unsettled feelings. They are no further on in the
divine life than they were—yes, they have gone backwards!
Read also the pungent rebukes of our Lord to the churches
in the Apocalypse. He thus addresses the church at Ephesus. "I know your
deeds, your hard work and your perseverance. I know that you cannot tolerate
wicked men, that you have tested those who claim to be apostles but are not,
and have found them false. You have persevered and have endured hardships
for my name, and have not grown weary." Rev. 2:2-3. How exalted a character!
How rich a piety! How fine a recommendation! Surely there is nothing here to
condemn. Yes, there is! Mark what follows. "Nevertheless, I have somewhat
against you, because you have left your first love." See that. Dwell upon
it. No attainments, no eminence, can compensate for a decline of "first
love." Christ will allow no plea of extenuation to be put in; much less any
defense to be set up. Hence what follows, "Remember, therefore, from whence
you are fallen, and repent, and do your first works; or else I will come
unto you quickly, and will remove your candlestick out of his place, except
you repent."
But perhaps it will be said, all that Christ required in
this case was that they should only recover lost ground, return to their
former state, and continue as they were. Ah, but what must have been their
first love, when their diminished affection was so great? What must have
been their first works, when their secondary ones were so signal? And
moreover the rebuke did not necessarily imply that they were to be satisfied
with even this. They had declined just because they had neglected to
advance, and it was therefore strongly implied that they must advance in
order that they might not again recede.
If these things do not prove the necessity of progress,
it is hopeless to prove anything. We should give to them their due weight
and act under their influence.
ADDRESS TO THE READER
You have now learned from the Word of God, the necessity
of progress? What think you of it? Has it ever thus occurred to you before?
Does it strike you now? Can you deny or doubt this necessity? Can you be
indifferent to it, or trifle with it? Perhaps you have overlooked it. You
have never entered into the subject; but have had all your attention
directed, and all your solicitude awakened to make a good beginning, a
public profession, a favorable start. But is this all that is necessary?
Does this answer to the description of true religion, as a race, a spring, a
growing child, or tree? Can you really satisfy yourself that your religion
is real if it is unattended with a conviction that it should be progressive?
Do, do study afresh, I beseech you, the representations given in this
chapter.
Ask yourself the one question, "Am I laying aside every
weight and the sin that does so easily besets me, and so running the race
that is set before me, as to obtain the prize of eternal glory?" Are you? Is
there that intense desire after the crown, that vigorous effort to obtain
it, that eager hope to receive it, which shall impel you onward with the
speed of the ancient racer? Or, are you convinced that it is not a faint
endeavor, but a mighty conflict that must gain eternal life? Are you saying
to yourself, "I must forget the things that are behind and press towards the
mark for the prize of my high calling? I cannot be satisfied to be always as
I am. I pant to be holier." Again, I say, pause and pray. Read no more until
you have entered your closet, and have put up the prayer of faith for a
deeper conviction of the necessity of progress.
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