Self-denial

Edward Griffin (1770—1837)
 

Genesis 22:2
"Then God said: Take your son, your only son, Isaac, whom you love, and go to the region of Moriah. Sacrifice him there as a burnt offering on one of the mountains I will tell you about."

Abraham was now dwelling at Beersheba, a town near the southern extremity of Canaan. The land of Moriah was the country in which Jerusalem afterwards stood, about fifty or sixty miles to the north. The place where the altar was to be erected for the sacrifice of Isaac, was on Mount Moriah—the mount on which the temple afterwards stood, where all the sacrifices were offered from the days of Solomon to the advent of Christ; and to which Mount Calvary was appended, where, in the fullness of time, the Seed of promise, the antitype of Isaac, was to be offered for the sins of the world. We are told that Solomon built the temple on Mount Moriah; the mount retaining the name after the surrounding country had lost it; the name being indelibly stamped upon it probably by this transaction of Abraham.

Abraham had been called out of Mesopotamia, and had left all his native scenes, led by the promise that in his seed all nations should be blessed. Notwithstanding this, he had lived until he was a hundred years old before his wife bore a son. In this time his faith and patience were put to a severe test. At length his heart is gratified by the birth of the long expected seed. The little son in whom all the blessings are wrapped up, grows up by the side and grows fast to the heart of the doting parents. With what pleasure—with what pious delight—do they watch his opening virtues. How often do their fond eyes, as they follow him about, glisten with the tender tear.

At length the dreadful summons comes, "Take your son, your only son, Isaac, whom you love, and go to the region of Moriah. Sacrifice him there as a burnt offering on one of the mountains I will tell you about." What shall the father do? With what words shall he support the sinking mother? How can he lose his only son? But this is not the half of it. How can he shed the blood of his Isaac with his own hand? What then will become of the promise that in Isaac his seed shall be called? But none of these things stagger the faith or retard the obedience of the pious patriarch. Confident that God is "able to raise him up even from the dead," he makes no delay. He vents none of his cares either to the mother or the son. He arises early in the morning, takes his son and some servants, and puts the wood for the burnt offering on a donkey, and sets off on foot for the place. "On the third day" he lifted "up his eyes and saw the place afar off;" and leaving there the donkey with the servants, he laid the wood on the unsuspecting Isaac, and proceeded toward the place.

"And Isaac spoke unto Abraham his father, and said, My father. And he said, Here am I, my son. And he said, Behold the fire and the wood, but where is the lamb for a burnt offering?" This affecting question did not shake the father's purpose. "And Abraham said, My son, God himself will provide a lamb for a burnt offering. So they went both of them together. And they came to the place which God had told him of; and Abraham built an altar there, and laid the wood in order, and bound Isaac his son and laid him on the altar upon the wood; [the pious youth making no resistance, although of sufficient age to carry the wood for the burnt offering.] And Abraham stretched forth his hand and took the knife to slay his son."

The deed was intentionally done. The knife was on the point of entering the palpitating heart; when he who in future days was to die on the same mount to save ten thousand Isaacs from death, called suddenly out of Heaven and stopped the father's hand. The trial was complete, and the proof was obtained that Abraham loved his God better than his son.

This done, the God whom he served forbade the human sacrifice. And although the fame of this affair, and the great credit of Abraham for piety, introduced the practice of human sacrifices among the neighboring nations, yet God declares that such a practice never "came into" his "heart." His only design was to test his servant, to see whether he would deny himself for him. And he was found willing to a degree that appears truly astonishing to us selfish creatures. A greater instance of self-denial was never witnessed, save when a greater Father laid his hand on a dearer son in the tragic scene of Calvary!

Abraham is called the father of the faithful, and the religion of all his sons must resemble his. But in this specimen we discover what his religion was. It was a principle of supreme love and unreserved obedience to God, which was ready to make any sacrifice which God required. He loved his God better than his Isaac; and would rather his son should die, nay die by his own hand, than break a command of God.

This is the same religion that was taught by the Founder of the Christian Church: "He who loves father or mother more than me, is not worthy of me; and he who loves son or daughter more than me, is not worthy of me. And he who takes not his cross and follows after me, is not worthy of me." Self-denial lies at the foundation of all practical religion, just as supreme love to God lies at the foundation of all the religion of the heart. If we are to judge from the practice and avowed sentiments of men, the easy, liberal world do not make self-denial a constituent part of their religion.

To indulge the tastes which nature has implanted, to live as they desire and enjoy life in the way that best suits them, seems the fashionable religion of the many. There is with them no struggle, no warfare, no running, wrestling, or fighting, no agonizing "to enter in at the strait gate." All is easy. The gate is wide enough for the whole world to go in abreast, enhanced with all the trumpery of Sodom. They are to sail down the easy current of pampered selfishness, to the paradise above. Thus they dream.

But what says the Scripture? "Mortify your members which are on the earth." "For if you live after the flesh you shall die; but if you, through the Spirit, mortify the deeds of the body, you shall live."

My object will be:

I. To explain the great duty of self-denial.

II. To adduce some arguments to enforce it.
 

I. I am to explain the duty of self-denial.

This duty seems to be very imperfectly understood. While some have rejected it altogether as an injurious restraint upon the nature which God has given us, others have rode on the ridge of the other extreme into all the superstitious austerities of popery. What self-denial is, may be easily explained; but to know when we practice it, or when we only deny one desire to gratify another equally selfish—is a more difficult task. As a general definition, to deny ourselves is to perform what is crossing to our natural feelings; and what we would not do, did not duty and benevolence require it. But the definition needs to be more exact.

In the strictest sense of the word, self-denial is the subjection to the will of God as expressed in his word and providence, of our personal tastes and feelings, in distinction from those which are social; because the interest which we take in the happiness of others is not, in the first instance, self-interest. Our love to friends desires nothing immediately but their happiness. And yet as the happiness of everyone consists in the gratification of his tastes and affections, much of our own happiness is ultimately drawn from the happiness of our friends. Therefore to subject their interest to the will of God, is, so far as our own happiness is involved, self-denial. So far as our happiness consists in the enjoyment of their society, a consent to part with them when God ordains it, is self-denial. As far as Abraham's happiness would have been affected in both ways by the death of Isaac—a death inflicted too by his own hand—his obedience on this occasion was an act of self-denial. But perhaps you deny that the crossing of our affection for others is self-denial.

You say that the happiness of Gabriel consists in the prosperity of God's kingdom; and in promoting that prosperity he finds his own happiness: would it be self-denial in him to cease to promote that prosperity or even to consent to its destruction? This is an entirely different case. The happiness which Gabriel derives from the prosperity of God's kingdom, is not a thing which is to be subjected to God's will. It is subjection itself. Nor is it a thing which can be set up in opposition to that will or to that prosperity. Surely that happiness which is drawn from the public good, cannot be erected against the public good. Nor can he be called upon by his Maker to sacrifice that happiness, because there is nothing higher than the prosperity of God's kingdom at which he can aim. There is no way in which he can sacrifice this happiness but by ceasing to love this kingdom and yielding himself up to the government of a private interest; which, instead of being self-denial, would be the very essence of selfishness.

But Abraham's love to Isaac could be arrayed against the interest of God, and needed to be subjected to his will. And that subjection, so far as the parental happiness of Abraham was sacrificed, was self-denial.

But there is such a thing as sacrificing our happiness without self-denial. The drunkard sacrifices his happiness; but so far from denying himself, he produces the effect by refusing to deny a depraved appetite. The superstitious wretch who yields to self-torture, sacrifices, for the time, his happiness; but he does not deny himself; for he is merely feeding pride and self-righteousness and the hope of reward. You might as well elevate to self-denial the labors of the gardener, or the fatigues and exposures of the soldier, or the hazards of the duelist. To feast one appetite or evil passion at the expense of another, is not self-denial. Nothing is self-denial but the subjection of our natural feelings to the will of God, and all our interests to his interest.

There are two sets of tastes or feelings belonging to human nature in its present state. One consists of those which existed before the fall, and which still remain perfectly innocent unless indulged unseasonably or to excess. The other consists of those which were introduced by the fall, and which, in every degree and modification of them, are sinful. Such are pride, malice, envy, hatred, and the like. These must, at all times and under all circumstances, be crossed. There can be no religion any further than it is a self-denial in regard to these.

The other set of tastes and affections which belong to human nature, comprises those which, not being introduced by the fall, are sinful only in excess, or when, by existing circumstances, we are called to deny them and do not. Such is the love of happiness. Such are all the physical appetites and the domestic affections. Such is the taste for the beauties of nature, for music, and for all those objects which would have gratified Adam in innocency. These tastes and feelings may be lawfully gratified with no other restrictions than these.

When God has made express rules to regulate them, as in the case of the physical appetites, they are to be restricted by these rules. Or when God in his providence calls us to cross these propensities, we must deny ourselves. Thus Abraham was called to cross his natural affection for Isaac. Thus Paul was called to give up his ease, the happiness of a family state, and most of the common comforts of life. All these tastes and feelings become sinful when indulged to excess; every solicitation to which must be resisted. When the objects of them are removed by the providence of God, we must not repine, but show our self-denial in cheerful submission.

In all these respects we are to deny ourselves; but beyond these limits we may not go. For a person, when not called to it by the law or providence of God, to cross his natural tastes, or in any way to afflict himself—betrays more pride and self-righteousness than anything else. Self-love, or the love of happiness, is innocent when subjected by supreme love to God, and when opposed to no higher good; and to cross it without a sufficient cause, is an instance of superstitious austerity which is by no means guiltless. Though Abraham was praiseworthy in pursuing as far as he did the purpose of offering up his son; yet the neighboring heathen, who, from his example misunderstood, did, unbidden, sacrifice their children to Moloch, incurred enormous guilt.

II. I am to adduce some arguments to enforce the duty of self-denial.

1. It is suitable that we should deny ourselves in all respects in which the law and providence of God call for it. It is suitable in the nature of things, that God should govern his own world, appoint all our circumstances, and arrange all our crosses; and that we should submit to them or voluntarily take them up as he appoints. The world is his property; we are his creatures; he is our sovereign, and has a right to appoint; and it is our duty to submit however crossing to the flesh. He is infinitely benevolent and wise, and full of mercy, and always faithful; and there is reason for unbounded joy that he is on the throne and that we are in his hands. It is our greatest privilege to be ruled by him. And for us to refuse to be governed by his laws and to take up our cross at his bidding, is folly and ingratitude and rebellion in the highest degree.

2. His commands to self-denial are explicit and urgent. "If any man will come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me." Shall we be conscientious not to break any of the commands of the two tables, and have no scruples in regard to this command? Hear and remember: "Whoever shall keep the whole law and yet offend in one point, he is guilty of all."

3. Without a principle that will lead us to deny ourselves habitually and in all respects for Christ, we have no true religion. This comes from high authority. "If any man comes to me and hates not his father and mother, and wife and children, and brethren and sisters, yes and his own life also—he cannot be my disciple. And whoever does not bear his cross and come after me, cannot be my disciple." What manner of love is that, compared with which the tenderest charities of social life are hatred? Yet such love to Christ we must possess, (it comes from his own lips,) or we have no part in him. We must have for him that clearly supreme affection which will not stand wavering whether to make trifling sacrifices for his cause. The father of the faithful did not hesitate a moment whether to sacrifice his beloved Isaac; and shall we demur about giving up trifling objects, and yet rank ourselves among the children of Abraham? It is all mistake and ruinous deception. Those who will not sacrifice every worldly interest when called to it, are unworthy to be reckoned among the children of Abraham or of God; both of whom spared not their own, their only son.

In times of ease, when nothing is required to be given up, the selfish heart may easily lie concealed, and feel good-natured towards God and man. It is when sacrifices are called for, that we are to discover what our hearts are. If at such times we find no self-denying principle within us; or though there are some faint movements that way, if we find no controlling propensity to give up everything for Christ as fast as he calls for it; of what avail are all our imagined submission and our supposed supreme love to God which in easier times flattered our hopes?

A man never knows himself until called to make important sacrifices for Christ. Abraham never had a full opportunity to discover what his heart was, until put upon this trial. And if this experiment had evinced that he could not deny himself for God, it would have proved, notwithstanding all his former fair appearances, that he had other objects of supreme regard.

The same in respect to us. What we really are, is to be determined, not in times of ease and pleasure, but in times of trial. When the hour of trial comes, then may we expect that the eyes of angels will be fixed upon us, to see whether we can bear the test, or whether all our fair appearances will vanish away. How many eager eyes from Heaven, may we suppose, followed the patriarch all the way from Beersheba to Moriah, and watched him in the critical moment, to see whether his purpose would falter, or whether his faith and love would triumph over all the tendernesses of nature. How desirable that when the furnace is prepared and the hour to try men's souls has come, "the trial of our faith, being much more precious than of gold that perishes, though it be tried with fire," should "be found unto praise and honor and glory."

4. God is able to recompense us abundantly, even in the present life, for all the sacrifices we make for him. He commands all the springs of comfort in the universe. He can make up for all the losses we sustain on his account, in ten thousand ways which human reason could not devise. We may rest assured that it will never be to our disadvantage to deny ourselves for him. He never calls us to self-denials from a wish to abridge our comforts. It is not in his heart to grudge his creatures their enjoyments. It is from far different motives that he calls us to self-denial. It is to wean us from the world and to inure us to look on him as the supreme good.

What did Abraham lose by his self-denial on Moriah? Instead of being deprived of his son, he obtained a more ample charter of all the blessings before promised. And when Peter said to his Master, "We have left all and have followed you." Jesus answered, Truly I say unto you, There is no man that has left house, or brethren or sisters, or father or mother, or wife or children, or lands, for my sake and the Gospel's, but he shall receive a hundred fold now in this time, and in the world to come eternal life!"

It is not the way to lose our comforts to give them up to God; but to reserve them when God calls for the sacrifice, this is the way to have them blasted and removed. "For whoever will save his life shall lose it; but whoever shall lose his life for my sake and the Gospel's, the same shall save it." Self-denial therefore, instead of being a loss, is our highest gain. The selfish man who would break a Gospel precept to promote his own interest, takes the readiest way to destroy himself.

5. A greater motive than this, which cannot fail to affect the benevolent heart, is that the eternal happiness of millions may be promoted by our self-denials. How much greater is the interest which is thus advanced, than the trifling good which is thus given up. The pleasures and profits which we renounce for the Gospel's sake, are transient at the longest and trifling at their greatest value. And how can these compare with the immortal interests of God's immense kingdom, which in some way or other are promoted by every instance of genuine self-denial. I had almost said, how can self-denial be any longer self-denial under this animating thought? To the real Christian it would be the greatest sacrifice of feeling not to deny his propensities which stand in competition with this infinite good.

6. If these thoughts are not sufficient to move us, one more remains which surely must melt a rock. How amazingly did the Son of God deny himself for us! "Though he was rich, yet for our sakes he became poor, that we, through his poverty, might be rich." Though possessed of infinite happiness, he became "a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief." Though adored by angels, he came down to receive the spittings of Roman soldiers. He cast away the diadem of the universe to wear a crown of thorns! And all this that you and I might be snatched from eternal torments and share in the immortal happiness of God himself.

What soul that is fit to be called human, will not take fire at this thought? Shall we think it much to give up our toys for him who sacrificed his glory, his blood, and his life for us? The sincere heart must surely feel it a privilege to testify its gratitude by any form of self-denial. Every opportunity for sacrifices will be the subject of thanksgiving rather than of complaint.

"Well you may claim that heart of mine,
 Which owes so much to Thine."

7. Thus have the faithful felt in every age. The history of the Church from the beginning, is a history of self-denials.

Abraham could leave his native scenes, and the pleasant plains of Mesopotamia, and all his kindred, and the delights of refined society—to consume his life in a foreign wilderness, among unfriendly strangers.

Moses could give up all the honors of the house of Pharaoh, and all the treasures of Egypt, "to suffer affliction with the people of God" in the deserts of Arabia.

Paul could renounce the highest prospects in his nation, for reproaches, stripes, imprisonment, and death.

The time would fail me to tell of the many others who were famed for signal sacrifices in all the days of old. And in our times, the whole family of Christians are constantly struggling with self-denials. It is the great business of their lives. In more irresolute moments we may think our sacrifices and crosses greater than those of others, and may repine at the hardness of our lot. But the trials of Christians are perhaps more equally apportioned than is often imagined. If not, of this we may be sure—they are exactly apportioned to the necessities of each. Could we have a full and particular view of the Church militant, with all its secrets disclosed, we would have a view of a great family dispersed through the world, all in their respective spheres struggling with self-denials. Not one would be found unemployed. We should perceive their struggle to be daily and almost ceaseless, and at times each supposing his own trials the most severe. This is the universal conflict of Zion from age to age; a conflict for which we were placed in this valley of tears. We were stationed here, not to rest, but to toil; not to possess our inheritance, but to make sacrifices: and our rest and reward are to come after we "have borne the burden and heat of the day."

This is the condition of the whole immense family of our brethren; and why should we be more exempt or more at ease than they? For shame let us not seek to repose in ignominious sloth, when all our brethren are daily toiling and struggling in their work. Let us not sink under the apprehension that we stand alone in these trials. There is abundance of company with us. All who have entered on the heavenly journey stand with us. The trials of Zion are in a measure common.

In view of all these reasons, let us all, as we are called to it, take up our cross and follow Christ. There is no other way to follow him but to the cross, for he went no other way. By that cross let the world be crucified to us, and us to the world. We must bear the cross if we would wear the crown. Let us commit all our interests to the divine management, in readiness cheerfully to endure whatever he shall impose, who for us agonized in Gethsemane and Golgotha; and to resign whatever he shall require who gave up Heaven and life for us.

Let us never consent to exchange the trials which he has prepared, for earthly thrones and kingdoms. "By patient continuance in well doing" through all self-denying scenes, let us "seek for glory and honor and immortality." And it shall "be no grief unto us, nor offence of heart" when we come to stand on the everlasting hills, by the side of the fountain of life, inhaling immortal joys, and looking back on the trials of the wilderness! When we shall receive the high rewards of faith and patience, and find Heaven the sweeter for all the deprivations of this life, it will be no grief to us that we renounced the pleasures and portion of the wicked, and continued faithful amidst all sufferings and crosses.

O that the glorious prospects of eternity might smooth down all the ruffles of our impatient minds, and might nerve us with fortitude to meet all the evils with which human life is beset, to bear all with patience, and into the hands of God to give up all our interests with filial submission. Let "none of these things move us, neither let us count our own life dear to us, so that we may finish our course with joy." And then "our light affliction which is but for a moment, will work for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory!

Finally, let us be supported and encouraged by the affectionate address of the risen Savior to the church of Smyrna: "Fear none of those things which you shall suffer. Be faithful unto death, and I will give you a crown of life!" Amen.