There are few thoughtful students of the New Testament who have not, at some time or another, felt a little perplexed as to the real force and application of a word which is of frequent occurrence, namely, the word, "Perfect." This word is used in such a variety of connections, that it is deeply important we should be clear as to what the Holy Ghost means by it in each particular case. We believe the context will, generally speaking, guide us to a right understanding of the just sense and application of the word in any given passage. We are aware that the subject of " Christian Perfection" has given rise to much theological strife and controversy; but we must, at the outset, assure our readers that it is not, by any means, our intention to handle the question in a controversial way we shall merely seek to bring under their notice the various passages, in the New Testament, in which the word "Perfect" occurs, or, at least some of the leading instances of its use, trusting the Lord to use what He may give us to write, for the glory of His name, and the profit of those precious souls for whom we ever desire to write. We shall not trace the word in the order in which it occurs, but rather in that order which the real need of the soul would naturally suggest. In this way, we shall find that the first great aspect of Christian perfection is presented to us in the ninth verse of the ninth chapter of Hebrews, and may be denominated Perfection as to the state of the Conscience.
" Which was a figure for the time then present, in which were offered both gifts and sacrifices, that could not make him that did the service perfect (τελειωσαι) as pertaining to the conscience." The apostle, in this passage, is drawing a contrast between the sacrifices under the Mosaic economy, and the sacrifice of Christ, The former could never give a perfect conscience, simply because they were imperfect in themselves. It was impossible that the blood of a bullock or of a goat could ever give a perfect conscience-It might avail for a day, a month, or a year; but no longer. It could not possibly avail forever. Hence, therefore, the conscience of a Jewish worshipper was never perfect. He had not, if we may be permitted to use the expression, reached his moral end as to the condition of his conscience. He could never say that his conscience was perfectly purged, because he had not yet reached a perfect sacrifice.
With the Christian worshipper, however, it is different. He has, blessed be God, reached his moral end. He has arrived at a point, so far as the state of his conscience is concerned, beyond which it is utterly impossible for him to go. He cannot get beyond the blood of Jesus Christ. He is perfect, as to his conscience. As is the sacrifice, so is the conscience that rests thereon. If the sacrifice is imperfect, so is the conscience. If the sacrifice is perfect, so is the conscience. They stand or fall together. Nothing can be simpler, nothing more solid, nothing more consolatory, for any awakened conscience. It is not at all a question of what I am; that has been fully and forever settled. I have been found out, judged, and condemned, in myself. " In me, that is in my flesh, there dwelleth no good." I have got to the end of myself, and there I have reached the blood of Christ. I want no more. What could be added to that most precious blood? Nothing. I am perfect, as to the state of my conscience. I do not want an ordinance, a sacrament, or a ceremony, to perfect the condition of my conscience. To say so, to think so, would be to cast dishonor upon the sacrifice of the Son of God.
The reader will do well to get a clear and firm hold of this foundation-point. If there be any darkness or uncertainty as to this, he will be wholly unable to understand or appreciate the various aspects of " Christian Perfection " which are yet to pass in review before us. It is quite possible that many pious people fail to enjoy the unspeakable blessing of a perfect conscience by reason of self-occupation. They look in at self and not finding aught there to rest upon—who ever did?—they deem it presumption to think of being perfect in any respect whatever. This is a mistake. It may be a pious mistake, but it is a mistake. Were we to speak of perfection in the flesh—what many, alas! are vainly aiming at—then, verily, true piety might recoil, with just horror, from the presumptuous and silly chimera. But, thank God, our theme is not perfection in the flesh, through any process of improvement, moral, social, or religious. This would be poor, dreary, depressing work indeed. It would be setting us to look for perfection in the old creation where sin and death reign. To look for perfection amid the dust of the old creation were a hopeless task. And yet how many are thus engaged! They are seeking to improve man and mend the world; and yet, with all this, they have never reached—never understood-yea, they actually deny the very first and simplest aspect of Christian perfection, namely, perfection as to the state of the conscience, in the presence of God.
This latter is our thesis, and we want the anxious reader to understand it, in its simplicity, in order that he may see the solid foundation of his peace laid down, by the very hand of God Himself. We want him, ere he lays aside this paper, to enter into the joyful sense of sins perfectly forgiven, and his conscience perfectly purged by the blood of Jesus. The entire matter hinges upon the question of the sacrifice. What has God found in that sacrifice? Perfection. Well, then, that perfection is for you, anxious one, and you should, at once and forever, enjoy it. Remember, it is not a question as to what you are; nor yet, as to what you think about the blood of Christ. No, dear friend, the question is, what does God think about the blood of His own Son? This makes all so clear. Say, is it clear to you? Can you, now, rest in it? Is your conscience set free, by being brought in contact with & perfect sacrifice? Oh! that it may be so. May God's Spirit, now, show you the fullness and perfectness of Christ's atoning work, with such clearness, vividness, and power, that your whole being may be emancipated, and your heart filled with praise and thanksgiving!
It makes the heart bleed to think of the thousands of precious souls kept in darkness and bondage, when they ought to be walking in the light and liberty which flow from a perfectly purged conscience. So many things are mixed up with the simple testimony of the word and Spirit of God, as to the value of Christ's work, that it is wholly impossible for the heart to get liberated. You will get a little bit of Christ, and a little bit of self; a little bit of grace, and a little bit of law; a little bit of faith, and a little bit of works. Thus the soul is kept hovering between confidence and doubt, hope and fear, just as one or other of the ingredients predominates in the mixture, or happens to be tasted at the moment. How rare is the gem of full, free, present, and eternal salvation! "We would fain cause that gem to sparkle, in all its divine and heavenly luster, under the gaze of the reader, at this moment. Then shall the chains of his spiritual bondage drop off. If the Son shall make him free, he shall be free indeed, and thus be able to rise, in the power of this freedom, and trample the legal system beneath his feet.
The more we ponder the question now before us—and we have pondered it a good deal—the more we are convinced that the true secret of all the error, confusion, and perplexity in which so many are involved, in reference to it, will be found in the fact that they do not clearly understand death and resurrection-the new birth-the new creation. Were this grand truth only laid hold of, in power, it would make all clear, as to the state of the conscience. So long as I am seeking to tranquillize my conscience by efforts after self-improvement, so long I must he either miserable or self-deceived. It does not matter in the least what means I adopt, in carrying on the process, the issue must be one and the same. If I attempt to take up the profession of Christianity for the purpose of bettering self -improving nature—or mending my condition in the old creation, I must be a total stranger to the bliss of a perfect conscience. "All flesh is as grass." The old creation lies under the withering influences of sin and its curse. A risen Christ is the Head of the new creation. 41 The beginning of the creation of God." " The first begotten from among the dead." (εκ νεκρών.)
Here, in very deed, is perfection for the conscience. What more do I want? I see the one who hung upon the cross, charged with the full weight of all my sins, now crowned with glory and honor, at the right hand of God, amid the full blaze of heaven's majesty. What can be added to this? Do I want ordinances, rites, ceremonies, or sacraments? Surely not. I dare not add aught to the death and resurrection of the Eternal Son of God. The ordinances of baptism and the Lord's Supper symbolize and celebrate that grand reality, and, so far, they are precious to the Christian—most precious. But when, instead of being used to symbolize and celebrate, they are used to displace death and resurrection—used as patches upon nature, crutches for the old man—props for the old creation, they must be regarded as a snare, a trap, a stumbling-block, a curse, from which may the good Lord deliver the souls of His people!
We would fain dwell upon this our first point, because of its immense importance, in this day of ordinances, traditionary religion, and self-improvement. We should like to ponder it—to elaborate, illustrate, and enforce it, in order that the reader may get a clear, full, bold grasp of it. But we look to God the Holy Ghost, to do His own work in this matter; and if He will graciously bring the heart under the power of the truth which has been so feebly unfolded, then indeed will there be both ability and leisure to look at the second great aspect of Christian perfection, namely, Perfection as to the Object of the Heart.
Here again, we are ushered into the new creation. Christ died to give me a perfect conscience. He lives to give me a perfect object. But it is very clear that until I have tasted the deep blessedness of the former, I can never be properly occupied with the latter. I must have a perfect conscience, ere my heart can be at leisure to go out after the Person of Christ. How few of us really taste the sweetness of communion with a risen Christ! How little do any of us know of that fixedness of heart upon Him, as our one paramount, engrossing, undivided object! We are occupied with our own things. The world creeps in, in one way or another; we live in the region of nature; we breathe the atmosphere-the dark, heavy, murky atmosphere of the old creation; self is indulged; and, thus our spiritual vision becomes dimmed, we lose our sense of peace, the soul becomes disturbed, the heart unhinged, the Holy Ghost grieved, the conscience exercised. Then the eye is turned in upon self, and back upon its actings. The time that else might be spent in holy and happy occupation with our Object, is, and must be, devoted to the business of self-judgment—heavy, but needed work!- in order to get back into the enjoyment of what we should never have lost, even a perfect conscience.
Now, the moment the eye is turned off from Christ, darkness must set in—oft times, darkness that may be felt. It is only as the eye is single, that the body is full of light. And what, beloved reader, is a single eye, but having Christ for our one object? It is thus that light divine pours in upon us, until every chamber of our moral being becomes lighted up, and we become lights for others, " as when the bright shining of a candle doth give thee light." In this wry, the soul is kept happily free from obscurity, perplexity, and anxiety. It finds all its springs in Christ. It is independent of the world, and can move on, singing, " Salvation in that name is found, Cure for my grief and care; A healing balm for every wound. All, all I want is there."
It is impossible for words to convey the power and blessedness of having Jesus ever before the heart, as an object. It is perfection, as we have it in Phil. 3:15,. where the apostle says, "Let us therefore, as
many as be perfect, (τέλειοι) be thus minded: and if in anything ye be differently minded, (έτερως,) God shall reveal even this unto you." When Christ stands before the heart, as our absorbing and satisfying object, we have reached our moral end, so far as an object is concerned; for how can we ever get beyond the Person of Christ, in whom dwelleth all the fullness of the Godhead bodily, and in whom are hid all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge! Impossible. We cannot get beyond the blood of Christ, for the conscience; neither can we get beyond the Person of Christ, for the heart; we have, therefore, reached our moral end in both; we have perfection as to the state of the conscience, and as to the object of the heart.
Here, then, we have both peace and power—peace for the conscience, and power over the affections. It is when the conscience finds sweet repose in the blood, that the emancipated affections can go forth and find their full play around the Person of Jesus. And, oh! what tongue can tell, what pen unfold, the mighty moral results of gazing upon Christ? "But we all with open face beholding as in a glass the glory of the Lord, are changed into the same image from glory to glory, even as by the Spirit of the Lord."
(2 Cor. 3:18.) Observe, " Beholding......are changed:" There is no legal bondage—no restless effort—no anxious toiling. We gaze, and gaze, and—what then? Continue to gaze, and as we gaze, we become morally assimilated to the blessed Object, through the transforming power of the Holy Ghost. The image of Christ is engraved upon the heart, and reflected back, in ten thousand ways, in on practical career, from day to day.
Reader, remember, this is the only true idea of Christianity. It is one thing to be a religious man; it is quite another to be a Christian. Paul was a religious man, before his conversion; but he was a Christian afterward. It is well to see this. There is plenty of religion in the world; but alas é how little Christianity! And why? Simply because Christ is not known, not loved, not cared for, not sought after. And even where His work is looked to for salvation—where His blood is trusted for pardon and peace, how little is known or thought of Himself! We are ready enough to take salvation through the death of Jesus, but oh! beloved reader, how far off do we keep from His blessed Person! How little does He get His true place in our hearts! This is a serious loss. Indeed, we cannot but believe that the pale, flickering light of modern profession, is the fruit of habitual distance from Christ, the central Sun of Christianity. How can there possibly be light, heat, or fruitfulness, if we wander amid the gloomy vaults and dark tunnels of this world's pleasure, its politics, or its religion? It is vain to expect it. And even where we make salvation our object—when we are occupied with our spiritual condition—feeding upon our experiences—and looking after our frames and feelings, we must become weak and low, inasmuch as these things are certainly not Christ.
There are many who, as we say, have retired from the world, have given up its balls, its parties, its theaters, its exhibitions, its concerts, its flower shows, its numberless and nameless vanities, who, nevertheless, have not found their object in a risen and glorified Christ. They have retired from the world, but have gone in upon themselves. They are seeking an object in their religion; they are engrossed with, forms of pietism; they are feeding upon the workings of a morbid conscience or a superstitious mind; or they are trafficking in the experiences of yesterday. Now, these persons are just as far from happiness, as far from the true idea of Christianity, as the poor pleasure-hunters of this world. It is quite possible to give up pleasure-hunting and become a religious mope—a morbid, melancholy mystic, a spiritual hypochondriac. What do I gain by the change? Nothing; unless, indeed, it be a vast amount of self-deception. I have retired from the world around to find an object in the world within—a poor exchange!
How different is this from the true Christian! There he stands, with a tranquillized conscience, and an emancipated heart, gazing upon an Object that absorbs his whole soul. He wants no more. Talk to him about this world's pleasure! Ask him has he been to the International Exhibition? What is his calm and dignified reply? Will he merely tell you of the sin-the harm of such things? Nay; what then? "I have found my all in Christ. I have reached my moral end. I want no more." This is the Christian's reply'. It is a poor affair when we come to talk of the harm of this or that. It often happens that persons who speak thus are occupied, not with Christ, but with their own reputation, their character, their consistency with themselves. Of what use is all this? Is it not self-occupation, after all? What we want is, to keep the eye fixed on Christ; then the heart will follow the eye, and the feet will follow the heart. In this way, our path shall be as the shining light, shining, more and more, until it becomes lost in the blaze of the perfect and everlasting day of glory.
May God, in His infinite mercy, grant to the writer an£ the reader of these pages to know more of what it is to have reached our moral end, both as to the state of the conscience, and as to the object of the heart!
(To be Continued if the Lord will)