The Grace of Christ, or,
Sinners Saved by Unmerited Kindness
William S. Plumer, 1853
"We believe it is through the grace of our
Lord Jesus that we are saved." Acts 15:11
How the pious regard sin in themselves and
in others
"I abhor myself, and repent in dust and ashes!" "O
wretched man that I am, who shall deliver me from the body of this death?"
"O my God, I am ashamed and blush to lift up my face to you!" "Cast me not
away from your presence and take not your Holy Spirit from me." These are
but specimens of the deep humiliation, self-loathing, bitterness of soul,
and painful apprehension which the righteous of every age feel for their own
sins. There is a sense, in which every godly man regards himself as the
chief of sinners. That is, everyone who really knows his own heart, and has
seen the sad work which sin has made in his moral character, is able as
before God, to see more evil in himself than of any other being. The souls
of such are filled with a godly sorrow, which works repentance to salvation,
not to be repented of. Nor is this sorrow a solitary sentiment. What
carefulness it works in all the regenerate, yes, what clearing of
themselves, yes, what indignation, yes, what fear, yes, what vehement
desire, yes, what zeal, yes, what revenge! In fine, it is certain that no
sentiment is more powerfill in its effects on men's hearts, than this
self-abasement for personal vileness in the sight of God.
Sin in the heart of the believer, is to him exceedingly
odious. Some may say that Christians are chiefly distressed at their own
sins, because they fear that they will prove their ruin at last. Those, who
bring this charge, should know that the righteous seldom endure greate
anguish of mind than that produced by the sins of others. This grief is not
confined to any one class of good men. The young convert, the strong man in
Christ, and the aged servant of the Lord alike, show their sadness when
others are known to offend against God. It is therefore illogical and unfair
to impute this distress to weakness of mind, to nervous debility, or to
personal apprehension of coming wrath. It is a part of genuine Christian
feeling. He, who cares not that others offend God, has never wept aright
over his own sins. So certainly as the heart is savingly changed, will men
hate and be made sad by all sin, even though it be in a stranger. Was not
the soul of righteous Lot vexed from day to day by the wickedness of his
neighbors? Did not David cry, "I beheld the transgressors and was grieved,
because they kept not your word?" Again he says: "Horror has taken hold of
me because of the wicked that forsake your law;" and "rivers of water run
down my eyes, because they keep not your law." Jeremiah felt just so: "Oh
that my head were waters, and my eyes a fountain of tears, that I might weep
day and night for the slain of the daughter of my people." Ezekiel tells us
how God, by an angel of mercy, "set a mark upon the foreheads of the men,
that did sigh and cry for all the abominations" done in the land. Jesus
himself was often grieved at the wickedness of men. He wept over the very
city, which was about to shed his blood.
There must be something very heinous in the nature of sin
thus to awaken grief and abhorrence in every virtuous mind, To be
indifferent to the moral character of those around us, if such a state of
mind is possible, is proof of a sad benumbing of all virtuous sensibilities.
To take pleasure in those, who make a trade of sin, and do abominable
wickedness--is full proof of one's loving iniquity for its own sake. But why
does the Christian weep for the sins of others? He may do it as a man. Some
sins bring shame, and poverty, and punishment on those who commit them; and
all, who are connected with them, are to some extent involved in suffering.
In this way the pious and the ungodly members of a family often weep
together over the intemperance, or other ruinous and disgraceful vice of one
of their number. But the good man stops not here. He weeps as a Christian.
He is greatly grieved that God is dishonored. This is the main cause of all
his grief. And as he is benevolent, he is sorry that men will expose
themselves to Jehovah's curse. It makes him tremble to see men pulling down
wrath on themselves. He is also grieved at the probable ill effects of a bad
example, in seducing others from the right way. He is specially afflicted at
the blindness and wantonness of sinners, in despising mercy, rejecting
Christ and vexing the Holy Spirit. Self-love commonly steps not in to shut
the eyes of a Christian to the hatefulness of sin, when he sees it in
others. When others sin, godly men see what they themselves were before
conversion, or what they would have been, but for the restraints of God's
grace. Bradford, an eminent servant of Christ, seeing a criminal led to
execution said, "There goes John Bradford--but for the grace of God!"
Can any man thus see himself mirrored forth in the life
of another, and not be humbled and grieved? Should he, who thus
transgresses, be a professor of Christ's religion, and eminent in gifts or
station, the anguish felt is the more keen, because God is thus greatly
dishonored, Christ is wounded in the house of his friends, the enemy takes
occasion to utter new and bitter reproaches against religion, and the wicked
are greatly emboldened in wrong-doing. Such a lapse commonly shakes all
those secure thoughts, which men have of their own spiritual state, and
awakens jealousies over one's self, which are like coals of juniper. If
David fell, much more may a weak believer. If the tempest tears up cedars by
the roots, what shall become of the tender plants? If a giant may be
overcome, how much more a child? So that the open sins of professors, in
proportion to their eminence, lead God's people to great heart-searchings
and strong fears lest hidden iniquity should at last be their ruin. Let it
be so; for "if the sins of others be not our fear, they may be our practice.
What the best have done, the weakest may imitate. There is scarcely any
notorious sin, into which self-confidence may not plunge us. There is hardly
any sin, from which a holy and watchful fear may not happily preserve us." O
that men would remember that, "Blessed is he who fears always."
Preservation from sin is better than recovery from its snares. A man may
escape death by a malignant pestilence, but it will probably leave him weak
and liable to other diseases.
How surely will a wise man profit by the errors of
others! "In vain is the net spread in the sight of any bird." When the land
is full of enemies, no wise man says, "There is no danger." Of all unamiable
and unchristian tempers none is more dangerous to its possessor than
harshness to a fallen brother, founded on confidence in our own strength.
"Brethren, if a man be overtaken in a fault, you who are spiritual restore
such an one, in the spirit of meekness, considering yourself, lest you also
be tempted." We cannot pity erring men too much, but in the abhorrence of
sin there is no danger of excess, nor can we pray too fervently, nor watch
too closely against falling into the evil practices, which we lament in
others.
Sin is the worst of evils. So greatly do godly men
hate it, that they have long preferred anything else rather than its
defilement. Joseph said: "How can I do this great wickedness and sin against
God?" and cheerfully went to prison rather than yield to temptation. Moses
also chose "rather to suffer affliction with the people of God, than to
enjoy the pleasures of sin for a season; esteeming the reproach of Christ
greater riches than the treasures of Egypt: for he had respect unto. the
recompense of the reward." Anselm said: "If sin were on one side, and hell
on the other, I would sooner leap into hell--than willingly sin against my
God." Good old David Rice, the missionary of Kentucky, alluding to the
irreligion of his day, said: "As I see the evil in it, so I feel an
inclination to go mourning to my grave."
How base and cruel it is in unconverted people by their
wickedness to afflict all their pious friends, and then upbraid them for not
being happy! How can one be joyful, when he sees those, whom he loves most,
rejecting God, and "digging into hell?" Esther said, "How can I endure to
see the destruction of my kindred?" And Paul said: "I say the truth in
Christ, I lie not, my conscience also bearing me witness in the Holy Spirit,
that I have great heaviness, and continual sorrow in my heart. For I could
wish that myself were accursed from Christ, for my brethren, my kinsmen
according to the flesh." What anguish wrings the heart of a pious wife, or
child, who lives for years with the growing conviction that he, for whom
they have so long wept and prayed, will yet pretty certainly die without
hope! And who can describe the fearful tumult, or crushing sorrow, when the
eyes of such a one are closed in death, and pious survivors have no reason
to believe that the separation which then takes place, is other than
eternal!