Improve the comforts of religion for promoting holiness. The religion of Jesus is highly comfortable—it exhibits to a sinful creature a redeeming God—as the God of all consolation—the Saviour, as the consolation of Israel—the Spirit, as the spirit of gladness—the blessings of grace, as wells of salvation, from which we may draw water with joy. Realizing these truths by that divine principle which makes future things present, and unseen things visible, and taking them home to ourselves, we are filled with joy and peace, and the joy of the Lord is our strength.
The children of the new birth come to understand that, “that which is born of the flesh is flesh.” There is no virtue in circumcision, as in Paul’s case. They must hear the voice of Christ, there is then a change of heart and a change of fruit.
This is the expression, you observe, not only of sincere love to the law, but of ardent love to the law. It is an appeal to God about an ardent love to the law: “O how love I thy law.” I would, entreating the presence and guidance of the Holy Spirit, think for a little with you on the grounds why the psalmist and why the saints do love God’s law, do love God’s law so ardently. Why do they love? Now, all that is rightly moral is founded on the fitness of things; therefore this love, as moral—as indeed it is the sum of all morality—is founded on the amiableness of the law. Love to the law is proper, and right, and fitting, just because the law is amiable. But let us inquire a little deeper into those circumstances about the law on which the amiableness of the law is grounded.
1. That such as will live godly in the world must and will suffer persecution, for the trial and exercise of their faith and patience, purging away of their dross, and for weaning their hearts from a present world, and for confirmation of the truth, 2 Tim. 3:12; 1 Pet. 4:12; John 15:3.
In the year 1644, a very interesting book was imprinted by Robert Bryson, and sold at his shop, at the sign of Iona, in Edinburgh, entitled, A Historie of the Church of Scotland. This book records a curious incident which occurred “a little before the death of George Wischard” (Wishart), the martyr. We give this incident as contrasting the shrewdness of a Scottish farmer with the duplicity of a Romish preacher who came selling relics for physical and spiritual healing.
Public actions and public men have always afforded abundant material for conversation. How prime ministers govern or misgovern, how men of business make fortunes or waste them, by what means one person has succeeded and for what reason another has failed—all the characters and all the doings of everyday life are discussed more or less wisely everywhere. Men claim the right to speak about persons and things, and to criticize and pass judgment according to their own wisdom or standard. At the corners of the streets, in clubrooms and in drawing rooms, precisely the same thing goes on. Over and above what concerns all, however, each class or gathering has matters to discuss that more or less worthily and more or less frequently interest themselves.
What has befallen the Jews, since they rejected Jesus of Nazareth, is that which will happen to all despisers of the gospel. What is to happen to Israel in the latter days, when they shall repent of their unbelief and embrace the true Messiah, is the same which every repenting sinner will experience at the hands of a merciful God. Here is the description of that grace which God will show to such sincere penitents—“They shall serve the LORD their God, and David their king, whom I will raise up unto them.”
I am now far from you in bodily presence; but I can with truth say, that my heart is nearer to you than before, as my eye turns joyfully, from the awful contemplation of sin and ungodliness around me, in this poor town, to those favoured spots of my dear native land, on which the Holy Ghost has lately been pouring out his quickening grace. I lately sent you, in print, a letter on the all-important subject of “THE KNOWLEDGE OF SIN;” and as I have many duties pressing on me here, I must fulfill my promise of writing to you in a very hurried way, hoping that you will read the letter I have alluded to, as if sent to you in writing, and addressed to you alone. I shall, then, say a word to the following classes among you.
Dear friends, our communicating work at this time is over; our preaching and your hearing work is almost over; but our account for these things is still before us—who knows how near! Let us think what we have done, and what we have got, that will abide the trial. In this solemn charge of Heaven, now read and directed to your conscience and mine, we have: 1) An awful warning of the future judgment, from the lips of the Judge: Behold, I come quickly. 2) A solemn charge to take heed to ourselves in the view of our certain and sudden appearance before God, the Judge of all. Hold that fast which thou hast, that no man take thy crown.
“I have always thought that good books (being silent teachers of goodness) are the best part of a man’s furniture in his house, and the choicest goods of a commonwealth,” wrote Andrew Gray. While the term “furniture” may have narrowed in its meaning since those words were written in the 17th century, they remain true, and Gray’s book, A Door Opening Into Everlasting Life, is an excellent piece of furniture for any home.
