Thoughts on Religious
Experience
Archibald Alexander, 1844
Erroneous views of regeneration—The correct view—The
operation of faith—Exercises of mind, as illustrated in Jonathan Edwards's
narrative—The operations of faith still further explained
It is proper now to inquire, what are the precise effects
of regeneration, or the exercises of a newly converted soul? As the
restoration of depraved man to the image of God, lost by the fall, is the
grand object aimed at in the whole economy of salvation, it can easily be
said, in the general, that by this change—a principle of holiness is
implanted, spiritual life is communicated, the mind is enlightened, the will
renewed, and the affections purified and elevated to heavenly objects. Such
general descriptions do not afford full satisfaction to the inquiring mind;
and as we have taken into view many of those circumstances which diversify
the exercises of grace in different subjects, let us now endeavor to
ascertain, with as much precision as we can, what are those things which are
essential to the genuineness of this work and which, therefore, will be
found in every sincere Christian.
But in this attempt, great difficulty will be met in
conveying our ideas with precision. Even those terms which are most used in
the Holy Scriptures to designate the essential exercises of piety are
differently understood, and when used, convey different ideas to different
people. I will endeavor, however, to avoid this difficulty as much as
possible, by defining the terms which I employ. I have all along admitted
that the mode of the Spirit's operation in regeneration is altogether
inscrutable: and an attempt to explain it is worse than folly. We may,
however, without intruding into things unseen, or attempting to dive into
the unsearchable nature of the divine operations, say that God operates on
the human mind in a way perfectly consistent with its nature, as a spirit,
and a creature of understanding and will. On this principle some suppose
that there can be no other method of influencing a rational mind but by the
exhibition of truth, or the presentment of motives: any physical operation,
they allege, would be unsuitable. Their theory of regeneration,
therefore, is that it is produced by the moral operation of the truth,
contemplated by the understanding, and influencing the affections and the
will, according to the known principles of our rational nature. But
respecting what is necessary to bring the truth fairly before the mind, the
abettors of this theory divide into several parts.
The Pelagian, believing human nature to be
uncontaminated, and needing nothing but a correct knowledge of the truth,
rejects all supernatural aid, and maintains that every man has full ability
to perform all good actions, and to reform what is amiss, by simply
attending to the instructions of the Word, and exercising his own free will,
by which he is able to choose and pursue what course he pleases.
The semi-Pelagian agrees with this view, except in one
particular. He believes that the truth, if seriously contemplated, will
produce the effects stated—but that mankind are so immersed in the world of
sensible objects, and so occupied and filled with earthly thoughts and
cares, that no man will, or ever does, contemplate the truth so impartially
and steadily as to produce a change in his affections and purposes, until he
is influenced by the Holy Spirit; and, according to him, the only need of
divine agency in regeneration is to direct and fix the attention on divine
things. This being done, the truth as contained in the divine Word, and as
apprehended by the natural understanding, is adequate to produce all the
desired effects on the active principles of our nature.
There is still a third party who attribute regeneration
to the simple operation of the truth on the mind, whose views are neither
Pelagian nor semi-Pelagian. They hold that the natural man cannot discern
the things of the Spirit of God, and that if a man should ever so long
contemplate the truth with such views as natural reason takes of it, it
would never transform him into the divine likeness; but that, by the
illumination of the Holy Spirit, the sinner must obtain new and spiritual
views of divine things, by which he is renovated or regenerated. Yet these
deny that any operation on the mind itself is necessary, as they allege that
these spiritual views of truth will certainly draw after them the exercise
of those affections in which holiness essentially consists.
Now, in my judgment, this theory is defective in one
point only, and that is, it supposes the mind, which is already in
possession of doctrinal knowledge of the truth, to have this same truth
presented to it in an entirely new light, without any operation on the soul
itself. Just as if a man was blind—but standing in the clear shining of the
sun's rays. These he feels, and can talk philosophically about the sensation
of light and colors; while he has not in his mind the first simple
perception of any object of sight. Could this man be made to perceive the
visible objects around him, without an operation on the eyes to remove the
obstruction, or to rectify the organ?
The case of the soul is entirely analogous. Here is light
enough; the truth is viewed by the intellect of unregenerate man—but has no
transforming efficacy. The fault is not in the truth, which is perfect—but
the blindness is in the mind, which can only be removed by an influence on
the soul itself; that is, by the power of God creating "a new heart", (Ezek
18:31; Ezek 36:26) to use the language of Scripture. The apostle Paul was
sent to the Gentiles "to open their eyes, and to turn them from darkness to
light". (Acts 26:18) Two things are always necessary to distinct vision, the
medium of light, and a sound organ; either of these without the other, would
be useless; but combined, the beauties of nature, and the glory of God in
the visible world, are seen with delight.
It is so in the spiritual world. The truth is
necessary—but until the mind is brought into a state in which it can
perceive it in its beauty and glory, it is heard and read and contemplated
without any transforming effect—without drawing the affections to God, or
subduing the power of selfish and sensual desires. The fault existing in the
person, there must be such an exertion of divine power as will remove it,
and this is regeneration. Then all the effects of the truth will take place,
as according to the former theory.
But I seem to hear the common objection, that if the soul
be the subject of any operation, this must be 'physical', and what is this
but to make man a mere machine, or to deal with him as if he were a block? I
believe that a more ambiguous, unhappy word could not be used than physical.
The best way to get clear of the mists which surround it, is to drop its use
altogether in this connection. Indeed, it is a term which properly belongs
to another science—to natural philosophy. If the operation must have a name,
let it receive it from the nature of the effect produced; this being
spiritual, let it be called a 'spiritual' operation; or as the effect
produced is confessedly above the powers of unassisted nature, let us call
it supernatural, which is the precise technical term used by the most
accurate theologians. Can the Almighty, who made the soul, operate upon it
in no other way than by a mechanical force? Cannot He restore its lost power
of spiritual perception and susceptibility of holy feeling, without doing
any violence to its free and spiritual nature?
But I shall be told, that there neither is, nor can be,
any moral or spiritual nature, or disposition prior to volition, in the
mind—for morality consists essentially in choice; and to suppose morality to
have any other existence than in the transient act is an absurdity. If this
be sound moral philosophy, then my theory must fall. This is a question not
requiring or admitting of much reasoning. It is a subject for the intuitive
judgment of the moral faculty. If there are minds so constituted that they
cannot conceive of permanent, latent dispositions in the soul, both good and
evil, I can do no more than express my strong dissent from their opinion,
and appeal to the common sense of mankind.
Some of my most serious readers, I know, will object to
my theory of the mind's operations, in one important particular. They are so
far from thinking that any illumination of the mind will produce holy
affections, that it is a radical principle in their philosophy of religion,
that light always increases or stirs up the enmity of an unregenerate heart;
that the more unholy beings know of God, the more they will hate Him, as is
supposed to be proved by the experience of thousands under conviction of
sin; and by the case of the devils who believe and tremble—but never love.
The difference between me and these people is not so great as at first view
it seems. Their error consists, if I am right, in making too wide a
severance between the understanding and the will; between the intellect and
the affections. I am ready to admit that all the knowledge which you can
communicate to a man remaining unregenerate, may have the tendency of
increasing or stirring up his enmity to God and His law; but observe that I
make illumination the first effect of regeneration. And I hold that no
unregenerate man is, while in that state, any more capable of spiritual
perception than a blind man is of a perception of colors. The blind man,
however, has his own ideas about colors, and may understand their various
relations to each other, and all the laws which regulate the reflection and
refraction of light, as well as those who see. This was remarkably
exemplified in the case of Dr. Sanderson, who, though blind from his early
infancy, delivered an accurate course of lectures on light and colors, in
the University of Oxford. Just so, an unregenerate man may be able to
deliver able lectures on all the points of theology, and yet not have one
glimpse of the beauty and glory of the truth with which he is conversant.
The sacred Scriptures represent all unconverted men as
destitute of the true knowledge of God. If there be a clear truth in the
laws of mental operation, it is that the affections are in exact accordance
with the views of the understanding. If men are unaffected with the truth
known, it must be because they do not know it aright: neither can they
perceive it in its true nature until they are regenerated. Did any man ever
see an object to be lovely and not feel an emotion corresponding with that
quality? And what unconverted man ever beheld in Christ, as represented in
Scripture, the beauty and glory of God? Hence that doctrine is not true
which confines depravity or holiness to the will, and which considers the
understanding as a natural and the will as a moral faculty. The soul is not
depraved or holy by departments; the disease affects it, as a soul; and of
course all faculties employed in moral exercises must partake of their moral
qualities. There is, however, no propriety in calling either of them a moral
faculty; for although both understanding and will are concerned in every
moral act, yet not one hundredth part of the acts of either partakes of a
moral nature. The will is just as much a natural faculty as the
understanding, and the understanding is as much a moral faculty as the will.
But in strict propriety of speech, the only faculty which deserves to be
called a moral faculty is conscience, because by it only are we capable of
moral perceptions or feelings.
I am afraid that I have gone too far into abstruse
distinctions for most of my readers; but there are thousands of plain,
private Christians in our country, who not only can enter into such
disquisitions—but will relish them.
I come now to what I intended, when I began this subject,
to describe as exactly as I can, what are the exercises of the new heart,
or the regenerate man. And here my appeal is to no theories—but to
experience, combined with the Word of God.
Every man on whom this divine operation has passed,
experiences new views of divine truth. The soul sees in these things
that which it never saw before. It discerns in the truth of God a beauty and
excellence of which it had no conception until now. Whatever may be the
diversity in the clearness of the views of different people, or in the
particular truths brought before the mind, they all agree in this, that
there is a new perception of truth; whether you ascribe it to the head or
the heart, I care not. It is a blessed reality, and there are many witnesses
of sound mind and unquestionable veracity, who are ready to attest it as a
verity, known in their own delightful experience. But as the field of truth
is very wide, and divine things may be perceived under innumerable aspects
and relations, and as there is no uniformity in the particular objects which
may first occupy the attention of the enlightened mind, it is impossible to
lay down any particular order of exercises which take place.
The case may be illustrated by supposing a great
multitude of blind people restored to sight by an act of divine power. Some
of them would be so situated, that the first object seen would be the
glorious luminary of day; another might receive the gift of sight in the
night, and the moon and stars would absorb his wondering attention; a third
might direct his opened eyes to a beautiful landscape; and a fourth might
have but a ray of light shining into a dark dungeon without his knowing
whence it came. Of necessity, there must be the same endless variety in the
particular views of new converts; but still they all partake of new views of
divine truth; and the same truths will generally be contemplated, sooner
or later—but not in the same order, nor exhibited to all with the same
degree of clearness.
Now, according to the views which I entertain, this
spiritual knowledge granted to the regenerated soul is nothing else but
saving faith; for knowledge and belief involve each other. To know a thing
and not believe it is a contradiction; and to believe a thing and not know
it is impossible. Faith is simply a belief of the truth, when viewed as
distinct, and discriminated from all other mental acts. Some will be
startled at this nakedness of faith; and many will be ready to object, that
it is to make faith to be no more than a bare assent of the understanding to
the truth: well, if it be uniformly accompanied by all holy affections and
emotions, what is the difference? But I deny that, as described, it is a
naked assent of the understanding, as those words are commonly understood.
The wide distinction between the understanding and will, which has very much
confounded our mental philosophy, has come down to us from the schoolmen.
But in making the distinction, they made simple verity the object of the
understanding. And that is what we commonly mean by bare assent; it relates
to the simple truth; but the will has respect, they said, to good—every
species of good.
Now the faith of which I have spoken, at the same time
contemplates the truth, and the beauty, excellency, and goodness of the
object, and also its adaptedness to our necessities: all these things are
comprehended in the views which the Holy Spirit gives to the mind.
Therefore, though faith be a simple uncompounded act, a firm belief or
persuasion, it comprehends the objects ascribed both to the understanding
and the will.
Here I shall be met by a definition of faith, which makes
the act simple also—but considers that act to be trust or confidence. This
the reader will remember is Dr. Dwight's definition of faith. And the only
objection to it is, that it is too narrow to comprehend all that belongs to
the subject. Trust is nothing else than the firm belief or persuasion of the
truth of a promise. When we say that we trust or have confidence in a
person, it relates to some promise. This definition comprehends all acts of
faith which have a promise of God for their object, and these are certainly
the most important acts, and accompanied with the most sensible emotions.
But all divine truth is not in the form of a promise. The whole Word of God
is the proper object of a true faith; and a large part of divine revelation
is taken up with histories, prophecies, doctrines, and precepts. The
Christian believes all these, as well as the promises.
Here faith is the first act of the regenerated soul;
and the most important act, for it draws all holy affections and emotions in
its train. But though it sweetly mingles with every other grace, it is
distinct from them all. All its diversified acts arise from the nature of
the truths believed, and men may enumerate and name as many of these acts as
they please; still the nature of faith remains simple. It is a firm
persuasion or belief of the truth, apprehended under the illumination of the
Holy Spirit. It necessarily works by love and purifies the heart, for
divine things thus discerned cannot but excite the affections to holy
objects, by which sinful desires and appetites will be subdued; and when we
are persuaded of the truth of God's gracious promises, there will always be
a sweet repose of soul, because the promises contain the very blessings
which we need; and to be assured that there are such blessings for all who
will receive them, and especially if the soul is conscious that it is
exercising faith, will produce sweet consolation—There is "joy and peace in
believing". (Rom 15:13)
According to the view of faith now given, there is
nothing mysterious about it. To believe in divine truth is an act of the
mind, precisely the same as to believe in other truth; and the difference
between a saving faith and a historical or merely speculative faith consists
not in the truths believed, for in both they are the same; nor in the degree
of assent given to the proposition—but in the evidence on which they are
respectively founded. A saving faith is produced by the manifestation of the
truth in its true nature to the mind, which now apprehends it, according to
the degree of faith, in its spiritual qualities, its beauty, and glory, and
sweetness; whereas a historical or speculative faith may rest on the
prejudices of education, or the deductions of reason; but in its exercise
there is no conception of the true qualities of divine things. The humblest,
weakest believer possesses a knowledge of God, hidden from the wisest of
unenlightened men; according to that saying of Christ, "I thank you, O
Father, Lord of heaven and earth, that you have hidden these things from the
wise and prudent, and have revealed them to babes." (Luke 10:21)
On the subject of experimental religion our dependence
must not be on the theories of men—but on the unerring Word of God, and on
the facts which have been observed in the experience of true Christians. In
the exercises of new converts there is, in some respects, a remarkable
similarity, and in others a remarkable variety. All are convinced of sin,
not only of life but of heart. All are brought to acknowledge the justice of
God in their condemnation, and to feel that they might be left to perish,
without any derogation from the perfections of God; and that they have no
ability to bring God under any obligations to save them, by their prayers,
tears, or other religious duties. All true Christians, moreover, love the
truth which has been revealed to their minds, and are led to trust in Christ
alone for salvation; and they all hunger and thirst after righteousness, and
resolve to devote themselves to the service of God, and prefer His glory
above their chief joy. But besides those varieties already described, as
arising from several causes, there is often much difference in their
exercises, arising from the particular truths which they are led to
contemplate when their eyes are first opened.
I do not mean to go over the ground which we have already
passed, otherwise than by a statement of facts from authentic sources, which
may serve to corroborate and illustrate the statements already given.
Perhaps no man who has lived in modern times has had a better opportunity to
form an accurate judgment of facts of this kind than Jonathan Edwards; and
few men who ever lived were better qualified to discriminate between true
and false religion. It is a thing much to be prized, that this great and
good man has left a record of that most remarkable revival which took place
in Northampton, New England, in the year 1734 and onwards. This narrative
was written soon afterwards, and was communicated to Dr. Watts and Dr. Guyse,
who united in a preface which accompanied the narrative, when published in
London. In this account, carefully drawn up, we have a satisfactory account
of the exercises of the subjects of the work, with the varieties which were
observed in the experience of different people. The leading facts have here
been selected from the narrative, so as to occupy the least possible room.
To any who take an interest in this subject these facts cannot but be
gratifying; and however the narrative may have been perused by some, yet it
will not be disagreeable to them to have some of the prominent traits of the
religious exercises at that time presented to them in a condensed form.
Edwards informs us, "that there was scarcely a single
person in the town, old or young, left unconcerned about the great things of
the eternal world"; and although he does not pretend to know the precise
number of converts, he is of opinion that it could not be less, in the
judgment of charity, than three hundred. Our object is not to abridge the
narrative—but merely to select the account of the variety of exercises
experienced, as there given. "There is a great variety," says he, "as to the
degree of trouble and fear that people are exercised with before they attain
any comfortable evidence of pardon and acceptance with God. Some are from
the beginning carried on with abundantly more hope and encouragement than
others. Some have had ten times less trouble than others, in whom the work
yet appears the same in the outcome. ... The solemn apprehensions people
have had of their misery have, for the most part, been increasing, the
nearer they have approached to deliverance. Sometimes they think themselves
wholly senseless, and fear that the Spirit of God has left them, and that
they are given up to judicial hardness, yet they appear very deeply
exercised with that fear, and in great earnestness to obtain conviction
again. Many times, people under great awakenings were concerned because they
thought they were not awakened—but miserably hardhearted, senseless, sottish
creatures still, and sleeping on the brink of hell. ... People are sometimes
brought to the borders of despair, and it looks as black as midnight to
them, a little before the day dawns on their souls.
"The depravity of the heart has revealed itself in
various exercises, in the time of legal convictions. Sometimes it appears as
in a great struggle, like something roused by an enemy. Many in such
circumstances have felt a great spirit of envy towards the godly, especially
towards those thought to have been recently converted. As they are gradually
more and more convinced of the corruption and wickedness of their hearts,
they seem to themselves to grow worse and worse, harder and blinder, more
desperately wicked, instead of growing better. ... When awakenings first
begin, their consciences are commonly more exercised about their outward
wicked courses—but afterwards are much more burdened with a sense of heart
sins, the dreadful corruption of their nature, their enmity against God, the
pride of their hearts, their unbelief, their rejection of Christ, the
stubbornness of their will, and the like. ... Very often, under first
awakenings, they set themselves to walk more strictly, confess their sins,
and perform many religious duties, with a secret hope of appeasing God's
anger. And sometimes, at first setting out, their affections are so moved
that they are full of tears in their confessions and prayers, which they are
ready to make much of, as if they were some atonement, and conceive that
they grow better apace, and shall soon be converted; but their affections
and hopes are short-lived, for they quickly find that they fail, and then
they think themselves to be grown worse again. When they reflect on the
wicked working of their hearts against God, they have more distressing
apprehensions of His anger, and have great fears that God will never show
mercy to them; or perhaps, that they have committed the unpardonable sin,
and are often tempted to leave off in despair. ...
"When they begin to seek salvation, they are commonly
profoundly ignorant of themselves. They are not sensible how blind they are,
and how little they can do, to bring themselves to see spiritual things
aright, and towards putting forth gracious exercises in their own souls.
When they see unexpected pollution in themselves, they go about to wash
their own defilements and make themselves clean; and they weary themselves
in vain, until God shows them that it is in vain; and that their help is not
where they have sought it. But some people continue to wander in such a
labyrinth ten times as long as others, before their own experience will
convince them of their own insufficiency—so that it is not their own
experience at last that convinces them—but the Spirit of God.
"There have been some who have not had great terrors—but
yet have had a very quick work. Some, who have not had very deep conviction
before their conversion, have much more of it afterwards. God has appeared
far from limiting Himself to any certain method in His proceedings with
sinners under legal convictions. There is in nothing a greater difference in
different people, than with respect to the time of their being under
trouble: some but a few days, and others for months and years. As to those
in whom legal convictions seem to have a saving outcome, the first thing
that appears after their trouble is a conviction of the justice of God in
their condemnation, from a sense of their exceeding sinfulness. Commonly,
their minds, immediately before the discovery of God's justice, are
exceedingly restless—in a kind of struggle or tumult; and sometimes in mere
anguish; but commonly, as soon as they have this conviction, it immediately
brings their minds to a calm and unexpected quietness and composure; and
most frequently then, though not always, the pressing weight upon their
spirits is taken off; or a general hope arises that some time God will be
gracious, even before any distinct, particular discoveries of mercy.
Commonly, they come to a conclusion that they will lie at God's feet and
wait His time. ...
"That calm of spirit which follows legal conviction, in
some instances continues some time before any special and delightful
manifestation is made to the soul of the grace of God as revealed in the
Gospel. But very often some comfortable and sweet views of a merciful God,
of a sufficient Redeemer, or of some great and joyful things of the gospel,
immediately follow, or in a very little time. And in some, the first sight
of their desert of hell, of God's sovereignty in regard to their salvation,
and a discovery of all-sufficient grace, are so near that they seem to go
together. The gracious discoveries whence the first special comforts are
derived, are in many respects very various. More frequently, Christ is
distinctly made the object of the mind, in His all-sufficiency and
willingness to save sinners; but some have their thoughts more especially
fixed on God, in some of His sweet and glorious attributes manifested in the
Gospel and shining forth of Jesus Christ. Some view the all-sufficiency of
the grace of God—some chiefly, the infinite power of God and His ability to
save them, and to do all things for them—and some look most to the truth and
faithfulness of God. In some, the truth and certainty of the Gospel in
general is the first joyful discovery they have: in others, the certain
proof of some particular promise. In some, the grace and sincerity of God in
His invitations, very commonly in some particular invitation, is before the
mind. Some are struck with the glory and wonderfulness of the dying love of
Christ; and others with the sufficiency of His blood, as offered to make an
atonement for sin; and others again, with the value and glory of His
obedience and righteousness. In many, the excellency and loveliness of
Christ chiefly engage their thoughts, while in some, His divinity; being
filled with the idea that He is indeed the Son of the living God; and in
others, the excellency of the way of salvation by Christ, and the
suitableness of it to their necessities. ... There is often in the mind some
particular text of Scripture, holding forth some particular ground of
consolation; at other times, a multitude of texts, gracious invitations, and
promises, flowing in one after another, filling the soul more and more with
comfort and satisfaction. Comfort is first given to some while reading some
portion of Scripture; but in others it is attended with no particular
Scripture at all. In some instances many divine things seem to be discovered
to the soul at once, while others have their minds fixed on some one thing,
and afterwards a sense of others is given; in some, with a slower, in
others, a swifter succession.
"It must be confessed, that Christ is not always
distinctly and explicitly thought of in the first sensible act of
grace—though most commonly He is—but sometimes He is the object of the mind
only implicitly. Thus when people have evidently appeared stripped of their
own righteousness, and have stood condemned, as guilty of death, they have
been comforted with a joyful and satisfactory evidence that the mercy and
grace of God is sufficient for them—that their sins, though ever so great,
shall be no hindrance to their being accepted—that there is mercy enough in
God for the whole world, etc.—while they give no account of any particular
or distinct thought of Christ; but yet it appears that the revelation of
mercy in the Gospel is the ground of their encouragement and hope; yet such
people afterwards obtain distinct and clear discoveries of Christ,
accompanied with lively and special actings of faith and love towards Him.
Frequently, when people have had the Gospel ground of relief opened to them,
and have been entertaining their minds with the sweet prospect, they have
thought nothing at that time of their being converted. The view is joyful to
them as it is in its own nature glorious; gives them quite new and
delightful ideas of God and Christ, and greatly encourages them to seek
conversion, and begets in them a strong resolution to devote themselves to
God and His Son. There is wrought in them a holy repose of soul in God
through Christ, with a secret disposition to fear and love Him, and to hope
for blessings from Him in this way, yet they have no conception that they
are now converted; it does not so much as come into their minds. They know
not that the sweet complacence they feel in the mercy and complete salvation
of God, as it includes pardon and sanctification and is held forth to them
through Christ, is a true receiving of this mercy, or a plain evidence of
their receiving it. Many continue a long time in a course of gracious
exercises and experiences, and do not think themselves to be converted—but
conclude otherwise; and none knows how long they would continue so, were
they not helped by particular instructions. There are undoubted instances of
some who lived in this way for many years together. Those who, while under
legal convictions, have had the greatest terrors, have not always obtained
the greatest light and comfort; nor has the light always been most speedily
communicated; but yet I think the time of conversion has been most sensible
in such people. Converting influences commonly bring an extraordinary
conviction of the certainty and reality of the great things of religion;
though in some this is much greater, some time after conversion, than at
first."
The religious exercises contained in the preceding
statement will not be new to those who have been at all conversant with
revivals. Such will recognize, in the account, what they have observed, and
will be gratified to find the same facts which they have observed, recorded
and published by such a master in Israel. Almost the only remark which I
feel disposed to make is, that it is too commonly supposed that the time of
receiving comfort is always the time of regeneration; whereas this might
rather be termed the time of conversion; for then the exercises of the
renewed soul come to a crisis, and faith, which was before weak and obscure,
shines forth with vigor. Perhaps it is the prevalent opinion among orthodox
writers that the first views of the renovated soul are views of Christ; and
when mere legal convictions are immediately followed by such views and their
attendant consolations, this opinion may be correct; but in many cases it is
reasonable to believe that the convictions experienced are those of the true
penitent. And as, in almost all cases here recorded and observed by others,
there is a distinct view and approbation of God's justice in the
condemnation of the sinner, I cannot but think, agreeably to what was stated
in a former chapter, that the soul has passed from death unto life before
these feelings are experienced; and that may help to account for the
remarkable calm which now follows the dark and stormy night. This revelation
of Jesus Christ in the believer may be compared to the birth of a child into
the light of this world; but its conception was long before. And so this
interesting point in experience is the new birth—but the principle of
spiritual life commonly exists before. Besides, comfort is no sure evidence
of a genuine birth; some who become strong men in the Lord are born in
sorrow. They weep before they are able to smile; but in the spiritual birth,
joy and sorrow often sweetly mingle their streams.
There are two reasons why faith, though one of the
simplest exercises of the mind, is represented as having so many different
acts; the one is the great variety in the truths believed; and the other
that, commonly, various exercises are included in the account of faith,
which do always accompany or follow a true faith—but do not appertain to its
essence. As faith has all revealed truth for its object, the feelings
produced in the mind correspond with the particular nature of the truth
which is at any time in the contemplation of the mind. If, by the soul under
the illumination of the Holy Spirit, the law is viewed in its spirituality
and moral excellence, while there will be experienced an approbation of the
will of God thus expressed, yet a lively sense of the sinfulness of our
hearts and lives must be the predominant feeling. This discovery of the
purity of the law, and this deep feeling of the evil of sin, commonly
precede any clear view of Christ and the plan of salvation; and this has
given rise to the prevalent opinion that repentance goes before faith in the
natural order of pious exercises. But, according to our idea of faith, as
given above, it must necessarily precede and be the cause of every other
gracious exercise. Commonly, indeed, when we speak of faith, we describe its
maturity; but there are often many obscure but real acts of faith, before
the soul apprehends the fullness and excellency and suitableness of Christ.
And in many cases, when some view of the plan of salvation is obtained, the
single truth believed is the ability of Christ to save; and even the full
persuasion of this gives rise to joy, when the soul has been long cast down
with gloomy forebodings of everlasting misery, and with the apprehension
that, for such a sinner, there was no salvation.
As faith does no more than bring the truth before the
mind in its true nature, every act of faith must, of course, be
characterized by the qualities of the truth thus presented, and by its
adaptation to the circumstances and convictions of the sinner. All those
acts of faith which bring the extent and spirituality of the law of God
fully into view must be accompanied with painful emotions, on account of the
deep conviction of lack of conformity to that perfect rule, which cannot but
be experienced when that object is before the mind. But all those
invitations, promises, and declarations which exhibit a Savior and the
method of recovery, when truly believed under a just apprehension of their
nature, must be accompanied, not only with love—but joy and hope, and a free
consent to be saved in God's appointed way; and when the previous distress
and discouragement have been great, and the views of Gospel truth clear, the
joy is overflowing, and as long as these views are unclouded, peace flows
like a river.
But even in the discoveries which faith makes of Christ,
there is a great variety in the extent and combination of divine truth which
comes before the mind at any one time. Probably no two people, in believing,
have precisely the same truths in all their relations, presented to them;
and not only so—but it is hardly credible that the same believer, in his
various contemplations of divine truth, takes in exactly the same field of
view at different times. Hence it appears that the whole power of faith
is derived from the importance, excellence, amiableness, and suitableness of
the truths believed. And when faith is "imputed for righteousness", (Rom
4:22) it is not the simple act of faith which forms a righteousness. If any
exercise of the renewed mind could constitute a righteousness, it would be
love, which, according to its strength, is "the fulfilling of the law"; (Rom
13:10) but when the soul by faith is fully persuaded that Christ is the end
of the law for righteousness, this righteousness of the Surety, when
received by faith, is imputed; and by this alone, which is perfect, can God
be just in justifying the ungodly. "Faith thus receiving and resting on
Christ and His righteousness, is the solitary instrument of justification;
yet is it not alone in the person justified—but is ever accompanied with all
other saving graces, and is no dead faith—but works by love." (WCF 11.2)
"By this faith, a Christian believes to be true whatever
is revealed in the Word, for the authority of God Himself speaking therein;
and acts differently upon that which each particular passage thereof
contains; yielding obedience to the commands, trembling at the threatenings,
and embracing the promises of God for this life, and that which is to come.
But the principal acts of faith are, accepting, receiving, and resting upon
Christ alone for justification, sanctification, and eternal life, by virtue
of the covenant of grace." (WCF 14.2) This quotation; taken from a formulary
known to many of my readers, contains as just and comprehensive a view of
the nature of saving faith as could be given in words.
But another reason why so many divine acts are attributed
to faith is, because other exercises are included in the description of
faith, which though they always accompany it, ought not to be confounded
with it. It was, two hundred years ago, a question much agitated among the
divines of Holland, whether love entered into the essence of faith. And in
our own country, faith and love have not been kept distinct. A very
prevalent system of theology makes the essence of faith to be love. Much
evil arises from confounding what are so clearly distinguished in the Word
of God. If faith and love were identical, how could it be said that "faith
works by love"? (Gal 5:6) The apostle Paul speaks of faith, hope, and love,
as so distinct, that, although they are all necessary, they may be compared
as to excellency—"The greatest of these is charity". (1 Cor 13:13) The
celebrated Witsius, in his Economy of the Covenants, in describing faith,
among the various acts which he attributes to this divine principle, reckons
"love of the truth", (2 Thess 2:10) and "hungering and thirsting after
Christ". (Matt 5:6) Now, it is an abuse of language to say that faith loves
or desires; faith works by love, and excites hungering and thirsting desires
after Christ.
But, it may be asked, if these graces are inseparably
connected, why be so solicitous to distinguish them? First, because in so
doing we follow the sacred writers; secondly, because it has a bad effect to
use a Scriptural word to express what it was never designed to express; and,
thirdly, because of the special office of faith in a sinner's justification;
in which neither love nor any other grace has any part, although they are
the effects of faith. When love is confounded with a justifying faith, it is
very easy to slide into the opinion that as love is the substance of
evangelical obedience, when we are said to be justified by faith, the
meaning is, that we are justified by our own obedience. And accordingly, in
a certain system of divinity valued by many, the matter is thus stated:
faith is considered a comprehensive term for all evangelical obedience. The
next step is—and it has already been taken by some—that our obedience is
meritorious, and when its defects are purged by atoning blood it is
sufficient to procure for us a title to eternal life. Thus have some,
boasting of the name of Protestants, worked around, until they have fallen
upon one of the most offensive tenets of Popery. But it would be difficult
to bring a true penitent to entertain the opinion that his own works were
meritorious, or could in the least recommend him to God. The whole of God's
dealings with the souls of His own people effectually dispel from their
minds every feeling of this kind. The very idea of claiming merit is most
abhorrent to their feelings.
But while it is of importance to distinguish faith from
every other grace, yet it is necessary to insist on the fact that that faith
which does not produce love and other holy affections is not a genuine
faith. In the apostles' days a set of libertines arose who boasted of their
faith—but they performed no good works to evince the truth of their faith.
Against such the apostle James writes, and proves that such a faith was no
better than that of devils, and would justify no man; that the faith of
Abraham and other believers, which did justify, was not a dead faith—but
living; not a barren faith—but productive of good works, and proved itself
to be genuine by the acts of duty which it induced the believer to perform.
While then faith stands foremost in the order of gracious
exercises because it is necessary to the existence of every other, love may
be said to be the center around which all the virtues of the Christian
revolve, and from which they derive their nature. Love of some kind is
familiar to the experience of all people; and all love is attended with some
pleasure in its exercise; but it varies on account of the difference of the
objects of affection. Divine love is itself a delightful and soul-satisfying
exercise. The soul which has tasted the goodness of God is convinced that
nothing more is necessary to complete felicity than the perfection of love.
This supposes, however, that our love to God is ever accompanied with some
sense of His love to us. Love, unless reciprocated, would not fill up the
cup of human happiness. But to love God, and be loved by Him—this is
heaven! And "we love Him because he first loved us". (1 John 4:19) In
the first exercises of a renewed mind, love to God and love to man are both
brought into action; but often the prospect of deliverance from eternal
misery which threatened may absorb the attention. It is indeed a marvelous
deliverance, to be snatched from the verge of hell and assured of
everlasting life; what a tumult of feeling must it create? But
notwithstanding this, it frequently happens that in the first discoveries of
the plan of salvation, the soul loses sight of its own interest, and is
completely occupied in contemplating and admiring the wisdom, love, and
justice of God, as exhibited in the cross of the Lord Jesus Christ. Indeed,
the believer, when these spiritual discoveries are afforded, thinks nothing
of the nature of those acts which he is exercising; and it may not be until
long afterwards that he recognizes these outgoings of soul to be true love
to the Savior.
There are two affections, distinct from each other in
their objects, which are included under the term love; the one terminates on
the goodness or moral excellence of its object, and varies according to the
particular view, at any time enjoyed, of the divine attributes. This
comprehends all pious affections and emotions arising from the contemplation
of the perfections of God; and some of them, such as reverence and humility,
would not fall under the name of love, when taken in a strict sense; but
when used as a general term for our whole obedience, it must comprehend them
all. This may, for convenience, be called the love of delight, in which the
rational soul delights in the character of God as revealed in His word.
The other affection called love has not the character of
the person beloved for its object—but his happiness. It may be intensely
exercised towards those in whose moral qualities there can be no delight,
and is called the love of benevolence. God's love to sinners is of this
kind; and this is the kind of love which Christians are bound to exercise to
all men in the world, even to those that hate and persecute them. Though the
love of benevolence may exist without the love of delight, yet the converse
cannot be asserted. No one ever felt love to the character of another
without desiring his happiness. Before conversion, the soul is sordidly
selfish—but no sooner does this change take place than the heart begins to
be enlarged with an expansive benevolence. The whole world is embraced in
its charity. "Good will to man" (Luke 2:14) is a remarkable characteristic
of the "new creature"; (2 Cor 5:17; Gal 6:15) and this intense desire for
the salvation of our fellow men, and ardent wish that they may all become
interested in that Savior whom we have found to be so precious, is the true
source of the missionary spirit, and is the foundation, often, of laborious
and long continued exertions to prepare for the holy ministry; and prompts
and inclines delicate females to consent to leave all the endearments of
home, for arduous labor in a foreign and sometimes a savage land.
But however lively the affection of love in the exercises
of the real Christian, he never can lose sight of his own unworthiness.
Indeed, the brighter his discoveries of the divine glory, and the stronger
his love, the deeper are his views of the turpitude of sin. The more he is
elevated in affection and assured hope, the deeper is he dismayed in
humility and self-abasement. His penitential feelings, from the nature of
the case, keep pace with his love and joy; and when his tears flow in
copious showers, he would be at a loss to tell whether he was weeping for
joy or for sorrow. He might say, for both; for in these pious exercises,
these opposite emotions sweetly mingle their streams; and so delightful is
this mingling of affections naturally opposite, that the person could hardly
be persuaded that the sweet would be as agreeable without, as with, the
bitter. One hour spent under the cross, while the soul is thus elevated,
thus abased—thus joyful, and thus sorrowful—is better than a thousand of
earthly delights.
Observe, Bunyan does not make the burden of Christian
fall off instantly on his entering in at the strait gate; but when, as he
traveled, he came in sight of the cross. Then, in a moment, those cords
which had bound it to his back, and which none could loose, were burst
asunder, and his burden fell off and never was fastened on him again,
although he lay so long in the prison of Giant Despair. The feelings of a
renewed heart are never afterwards the same as under legal conviction. There
are scenes, in the experience of the lively Christian, of which the wise men
of the world never dream; and which, if they were told of them, they would
not believe; and these things, while they are hidden from the wise and
prudent, are revealed unto babes. The secret of the Lord is with those who
fear him. The soul which has thus returned from its wanderings to its Bishop
and Shepherd feels under the strongest obligations to live for God—to deny
itself—to forsake the world—to do anything—be anything—or suffer anything,
which may be for the honor of its divine Master. Hence a new life
commences—a new spirit is manifested—and the new man, in spite of all his
remaining ignorance and imperfection, gives lucid evidence to all who
carefully observe him that he has been with Jesus, and has been baptized
with the Holy Spirit; and the more frequently these views and exercises are
reiterated, the more spiritual and heavenly is his conversation. This is a
light which cannot be hid, and which ought to shine more and more unto the
perfect day. Hear then the exhortation of the apostle Jude, "But you,
beloved, building up yourselves on your most holy faith, praying in the Holy
Spirit, keep yourselves in the love of God, looking for the mercy of our
Lord Jesus Christ unto eternal life." (Jude 20-21)