23. ON CONVERSION
Wherever we look, we behold some part of God's works; some remembrancer of
his power and goodness. Then, why are our thoughts so seldom led "through
nature, up to nature's God?" Here we discover the influence of sin, which so
fills our hearts with the love of the creature, as to leave no room for the
love of the Creator.
When the Savior was born into the world, there was no room for him in the
inn. Just so it is with our depraved hearts. Yet, wonderful condescension!
Jesus stands at the door and knocks, saying, "If any man hear my voice and
open the door, I will come in to him, and will sup with him, and he with
me."
And does not every heart fly open to receive the heavenly visitant? Alas,
no! Satan puts on the threefold bar of unbelief, pride, and prejudice; while
inbred sin, afraid of losing its darling gratifications, opposes every
effort to admit so kind a friend. The flesh pleads hard for self-indulgence;
the world spreads its painted baubles, its deceitful riches, its empty
honors, its intoxicating pleasures; and thus the sinner is held in vassalage
to the powers of darkness.
Is, then, the heart forever barred against the Prince of peace? Forever
barred it would be, did not sovereign grace, by its almighty power, drive
out the strong man armed, crucify each rebellious lust, and bring every
thought into captivity to the obedience of Christ. When grace opens the
sinner's heart, all the powers of the soul are made willing to admit the
conquering Savior, and to acknowledge him to be the Lord. Old favorite sins
now become hateful; darling lusts appear like inbred vipers. Satan is beheld
in all his horrors, and vice in its true deformity. The world loses its
charms. Heaven opens on the enraptured eye of faith. Holiness captivates the
heart by its celestial beauties. Jesus is beheld with rising admiration, and
becomes each day more precious to the soul. Such is the wonderful change
wrought in the conversion of a sinner, through the power of the Holy Spirit.
Unbelief gives way to faith; pride to humility; anger to meekness;
impatience to resignation; hatred to love and sin to universal holiness. The
idol, self, falls prostrate before Jesus Christ; and nothing is extolled, or
trusted in, or pleaded before the throne of God, but the precious blood and
righteousness of Emanuel. All glory is now given to the Father, Son, and
Holy Spirit; and the Triune God is ALL in ALL.
It is to be feared that thousands, who call themselves Christians, will
never be acknowledged as such in that great day, when the secrets of all
hearts shall be revealed, and the real character of every professor of
godliness distinctly known. Too many, it is to be feared, substitute a
general acknowledgment of the truths of the Bible, for that faith in those
truths which purifies the heart, and assimilates the soul to the image of
Jesus.
It is no difficult thing to say, "I believe in God the Father Almighty,
maker of heaven and earth; and in Jesus Christ, his only Son our Lord;" But,
to feel all the love, reverence, and obedience, which, as creatures and
redeemed sinners, we owe to our God and Savior, is not so easy to fallen
nature. It is no way contrary to our carnal heart to profess, and even
strenuously to contend for, those truths which we have been taught from our
infancy to consider as sacred; or to extol that church, in whose bosom we
have grown up from earliest years.
But, to exhibit the fruit of those doctrines, and to act agreeably to the
spiritual formularies of our venerable establishment, is not so congenial to
the natural state of our depraved hearts. So long as thousands, who bear the
Christian name, live in all the gayeties and follies of the world;
neglecting the Gospel, and manifesting a spirit in direct opposition to it;
we cannot wonder that such multitudes, carried away by the potent stream of
public example, rest satisfied with a faith which passes current in the
world, which attaches no transformation to the character, which requires no
self-denial, no painful sacrifices on the part of its possessors.
Many, no doubt, rejoice that they are preserved from such delusions as they
suppose the people of God labor under, who debar themselves from what they
term the innocent gayeties of life, and the delights of fashionable
extravagance. These people pride themselves on their superior wisdom in
being able to grasp both worlds at once; to acknowledge the importance of
Christianity, and yet to enjoy those carnal gratifications which give such a
zest to their existence. Thus they go on, like the rich man in the parable,
faring sumptuously every day; and never find out their dreadful mistake,
until, like him, they open their eyes in hell, being in torments!
How awfully blinded is the soul of man, until illuminated by the Holy Spirit
of truth! Until his glorious light irradiate our minds, we can form no
accurate ideas either of God or of ourselves. All is chaos and confusion. We
do not even see men as trees walking. We are in a state of complete
blindness, and all our conceptions are erroneous. We grope in the dark. We
stumble even at noonday.
How different from that cold assent of the understanding to the general
truths of the Gospel, which satisfies an unbelieving world, is the faith
which the Spirit of God works in the hearts of his people. The believer in
Jesus is the new creation of God. His mind is enlightened from above. His
heart is made to feel its guilt and misery. He reads the word of God with an
interest unfelt before. He reads it as a revelation of love from the God of
mercy, proclaiming pardon to the guilty, peace to the miserable, and purity
to the polluted. Every declaration bears, to his mind, the stamp of truth.
He requires no other sanction than "thus says the Lord;" and, finding this,
he reads with reverence, and seeks for grace to receive with all meekness
the engrafted word which is able to save his soul. He finds his own
character exactly portrayed in its sacred pages. He looks within, and is
able to trace sin through the dark recesses and secret windings of his
heart. He discovers those latent seeds of evil, those bitter springs of
misery, unbelief, and pride and lust, and covetousness, which are
continually pouring forth their deadly streams into his outward life. He
traces all this evil to the fall of man, and finds that the deadly poison
has contaminated the whole posterity of Adam. He owns himself a sinner, both
by nature and practice. He justifies the righteous judgment of God, whose
law he has broken, and whose tremendous curse he has so awfully incurred. He
no longer tries to palliate his offenses, or invent soft names whereby to
varnish over the deformity of sin. He frankly and fully confesses himself a
rebel, guilty of death, and deserving of nothing less than eternal
damnation.
Into this humble, broken, contrite state of heart, he is brought by the deep
convictions of that Holy Spirit, whose office it is "to convince the world
of sin." But does this divine agent leave him in this awakened state of
agony and despair? Ah, no! How good, how gracious, how merciful is God! He
wounds in order to heal; he kills in order to make alive!
When a person labors under a violent fever, every expedient is tried to
reduce the wasting malady. The means used, seem, for a time, to increase the
weakness and debility of the patient: but he is thus weakened only that he
may eventually become strong. No sooner is the consuming fever abated, than
cordials and restoratives are freely administered, which, given before,
would have augmented the dangerous symptoms, and thus have hastened on the
fatal consequences of the disease. Thus, our heavenly Physician humbles and
subdues the proud heart of the sinner, and destroys the feverish thirst and
burning desire after sinful gratifications, before he imparts the reviving
cordials of pardon and peace to restore the sin-sick soul to spiritual
strength and vigor.
Then the bloom of health begins to appear in the sweet tints of peace and
joy, of love and humility, of meekness and heavenly-mindedness, which
beautify the soul, and cause the believer to shine in the image of his
divine Redeemer.
The happy believer now knows his malady and his remedy. He takes with
gratitude those medicines which Infinite Wisdom prescribes. He daily feeds
upon Christ by faith, and daily derives strength from this gracious source
of blessedness. He feels his own weakness, and experiences the power of
Jesus. He loathes himself and truly loves his Savior, in whose righteousness
he appears all lovely in the eyes of his heavenly Father. As a pilgrim, he
journeys onwards under the guidance of that Holy Spirit who dwells in him as
in a temple, and who has promised to keep him by his mighty power through
faith unto salvation. The world fascinates no longer. The mask falls from
its face, and he beholds the idol in its natural deformity. He sees the
emptiness of human applause; the madness of ambition; the deceitfulness of
riches; the folly of extravagance. Every thing beneath the sun assumes its
true character while he views it through the medium of God's holy word.
He learns to form a proper estimate of temporal things. He prays for grace
to use the world as not abusing it; to be moderate in the enjoyment of all
created good; knowing that the fashion of this world passes away. Has the
believer no enjoyment of life? Is he destitute of all rational delights
because he makes the Lord his portion? It would be an impeachment of the
goodness of God, to suppose his service a mere Egyptian bondage.
The true believer in Jesus has the sweetest enjoyment of life. He can eat
his food with singleness of heart, praising God. He can taste the sweets of
Christian friendship and domestic life; he can enjoy all the endearing
charities of husband, father, brother; he can feel his heart expanding
towards the poor; and find his joy in pouring the balm of consolation into
the troubled breast; he can delight in all the beauties of natural scenery,
and relish all the charms of sound philosophy; he can rejoice in every
opening prospect for the extension of the Redeemer's kingdom, through
institutions devised by Christian wisdom and conducted in Christian
simplicity; he can weep in his best moments over the ruins of the fall, not
only as felt in his own heart, but as beheld in the abject condition of the
millions of mankind; he can rejoice with those who rejoice, and weep with
those who weep. Say, then, can such a man be miserable? can such a man be
destitute of sources of real enjoyment? He lives by faith; he longs for
heaven; he desires to be daily conformed to Jesus, and to glorify him more,
whether it be by life or death. To him, to live is Christ, and to die is
gain. Such is the character of the converted sinner. Oh how precious, how
divine, how rare a character!
"Lord, impart this grace unto me, who am less than the least of all your
mercies, until faith shall end in the glorious fruition of yourself in your
everlasting kingdom of light and glory."
Blest Savior, condescend
To dwell within my heart;
Oh, be my advocate and friend;
Bid every sin depart.
Incline my soul to love
The path of life divine;
In concord let my passions move,
Let all my heart be thine.
Preserve me by your care;
Protect me, lest I stray;
Keep me from Satan's' deadly snare,
From every devious way.
Let angel-guards surround,
And shield my soul from ill;
While traveling over temptation's ground,
To Zion's holy hill.
When death the message brings
To call me hence away,
O may I stretch my joyful wings
To heaven's eternal day!