Delivered From Doubt

In our anxiety to see souls brought into peace there is one special danger we need to watch and pray against — intruding (however unintentionally) between God and the spiritual exercises of the awakened.

This danger was possibly never greater than in a superficial day like the present. It is easy nowadays to have a careless expression in religious things without the soul having been divinely awakened at all. Or if the root of the matter is there, it is of such a shallow character as hardly to be perceptible in their daily life.

There can be no doubt that there are many wrong impressions as to the very foundation truths of the gospel. This may come from unscriptural habits of thought and expression current throughout the professing Church. Many are sad and confused who might otherwise have the “joy and peace in believing.” Doesn’t this also explain the unsatisfactory life of many? Until we have a firm foundation under our feet our walk is never steady.

My prayer is that these thoughts may prove a blessing to many, an occasion of stumbling to none. What a comfort that “He satisfied the longing soul, and filleth the hungry soul with goodness”! (Psalm 107:9).

Soul-Trouble

There is no trouble in the world like soul trouble. Who can endure the torments of a guilty conscience? “A wounded spirit who can bear?” (Proverbs 18:14).

Next to the anguish of waking up in eternity to find the soul is “lost,” is the bitterness of making that discovery in time, though the great gulf isn’t yet finally “fixed,” nor the souls’ doom eternally sealed.

Let a man be made alive to the truth that the end of a sinful life (his life) is hell. Let the Spirit of God remind him that his next heartbeat may be his last and that the God against whom he has so long and so willfully rebelled holds his breath in His mighty hand. Then there will be little wonder if he go supper-less to bed, to spend the night, not in peaceful sleep, but in fear and trembling, in tossing and turning, in prayer and weeping.

The eternal damnation or the eternal salvation of the soul is no light issue, and how can he rest until it is settled? He richly deserves damnation, yet he ardently hopes for salvation. He seems to hope against hope, yet he does hope, and cannot help it. On one side stands “truth,” showing the inevitable future and the undeniable past, and fully exposing both. On his other side stands “grace,” witnessing to him that in spite of his wickedness, and entirely on the ground of Christ’s merits, eternal blessing may still be his.

This brings intense inward struggle until pardon is known and peace possessed; until the soul’s eternal destiny is beyond the possibility of doubt or question!

Then there is another important factor in this fierce struggle. Satan, with his suggestions and lies, is now very active. Now he must use every effort that satanic craft can devise in order to stop, if possible, the purposes of grace. If he fails, his once willing slave will be another witness of the value of the Redeemer’s blood to cleanse, of His power to save.

Sometimes he whispers, “You are too good to be lost.” At others he says, “You are too bad to be saved; at least, too bad to be saved just as you are; wait till you are better first.” Satan’s clock is always either too fast or too slow. There is, according to his dangerous counsel, either “plenty of time to think of these things,” or he whispers, “God is too harsh and too exacting to show mercy to a sinner like you; you are too late now.”

1. How Can I Possibly Escape Punishment for My Sins, Since God Is Righteous and I Am Sinful?

This question is as old as the book of Job. “How can a man be justified with God?” was his memorable inquiry (Job 25:4), and touches the very foundation of a solid rest and peace. God must be true to His own holy, righteous character. Sin put Him into the place of judge. As surely as God is just, sin must have its full penalty. Men sentimentalize about the love of God, and forget His justice. But God will be as righteous in taking a man to heaven based on Christ’s work, as He will be righteous in sending a sinner to hell for his own works.

When He exalted Christ to His own right hand in glory, He declared His own righteousness in doing it. When He sends Satan to his eternal doom in the lake of fire, it will be according to the same righteousness. It cannot be too well understood that if any sinner is saved, God will be as righteous in saving the sinner as He was in seating Christ in the brightness of heavenly glory, or as He will be in driving Satan to the darkness of eternal judgment.

How, then, after stopping “every mouth” in the whole human family, and pronouncing “every man” guilty before Him, can God righteously save any?

Listen carefully to the answer of the Spirit of God: “It is Christ that died” (Romans 8:34). “He was wounded for our transgressions, He was bruised for our iniquities: the chastisement of our peace was upon Him; and with His stripes we are healed” (Isaiah 53:5).

Sin’s penalty has been taken away by the Lamb of God’s own providing — Christ Jesus. Every question of the troubled conscience about a righteous payment for sin is answered by another question — one which will remain uniquely wonderful for eternity — “My God, My God, why hast Thou forsaken Me?”

Who could answer that mysterious “Why?” asked by Jesus Christ on the cross of Calvary?

Demons had confessed Him to be the Holy One of God. Could the powers of darkness tell us “Why”? Impossible! Satan himself had been defeated at every approach to Him who could say, “The prince of this world cometh, and hath nothing in Me.”

Angels had ministered to Him after His temptation in the wilderness. Did they not know that God’s good pleasure was in Him, and that He had always done the things that pleased His Father? But could they answer this momentous question? Impossible — “Which things the angels desire to look into” (1 Peter 1:12).

His disciples had seen how the mouth of every opposer had been stopped by His unanswerable challenge, “Which of you convinceth me of sin?” They must have been familiar with the words of David in Old Testament scriptures, “I have been young, and now am old; yet have I not seen the righteous forsaken” (Psalm 37:25). Yet here is the only absolutely righteous Man that ever lived — “Jesus Christ the righteous” — and He is forsaken! Amazing! — Why? Man has no answer to that question; not even those most devoted to Him.

God the Father, Himself, had drawn the attention of heaven and earth, more than once, to the fact that in Jesus He found perfect satisfaction and delight. Will He throw open the heavens once more to furnish an answer to that mysterious “Why”? No. The blessed Sin-bearer is left to feel, amid the darkness of those three hours on the cross, as He only could feel, the awfulness of that word “FORSAKEN.” Others had called in ages past: they had been heard; they had been delivered; but listen to His words as, from the midst of that terrible darkness, they reach and pierce our very hearts: “I cry ... Thou hearest not.” Is there, then, no answer to the question? Faith has found an answer. If demons, angels, men, couldn’t give an answer; if God didn’t, where did it come from? It came from the very lips of the Forsaken One Himself! He justified God in forsaking Him. Oh, how precious! beyond all conception precious! Tell it over and over again, and never let the story die. Jesus justified God in forsaking Him. Listen to His blessed prophetic words in Psalm 22:3, “But Thou art holy, O Thou that inhabitest the praises of Israel.” As though He had said, Thou art so holy that Thou couldst not do less, in all righteousness, than turn Thy back upon sin, even when Thy beloved Son was the bearer of it. No; when sin is judged there can be no relief, no answer, until all its condemnation is removed. How solemn, yet how lovely, is all this! It draws the affections of a troubled sinner to that precious Saviour, filling the sinner’s heart with peace, and making it overflow with praise. What greater proof could we have, then, that the sins of those who believe in Jesus have already been righteously judged — judged in the blessed person of their adorable Substitute — Jesus Christ? God can now be “just, and the Justifier of him that believeth in Jesus” (Romans 3:26). Sinners aren’t justified because nothing could be said against them; but justified by the precious blood, which has, once for all, met every charge that God Himself could bring against them.

We see that the believer’s sins have not escaped punishment. The gospel does not present a God whose love has been expressed by ignoring sin. Instead the gospel shows a God whose love to the sinner could only be expressed where His holy claims against sin were righteously met, and its penalty exhaustively endured.

2. In Trying to Be Good I Have Only Got Worse Instead of Better.

Perhaps there is no more common mistake than to suppose that salvation means a gradual improvement; a growing better and better, until at last a person is suitable for the presence of God — ready for heaven.

But Scripture makes it plain that salvation is through faith in the work of Christ and nothing else. That work was finished on the cross once for all. We are told that the apostle Peter was “filled with the Holy Ghost” when, before the rulers and elders of Israel, he boldly testified, “Neither is there salvation in any other; for there is none other name under heaven, given among men, whereby we must be saved” (Acts 4:12).

It cannot be too clearly understood that the Holy Ghost is never presented as our Saviour, as though He had died for our sins. It was through the Eternal Spirit Christ offered Himself without spot to God (Hebrews 9:14). It is through the Spirit’s work in our souls that we are made aware of our need of Christ and His sacrifice. It is the Spirit who points every awakened soul to what Christ has done. But the Spirit’s work in us is not the ground of peace. “Being justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ,” because it was He “who was delivered for our offences, and raised again for our justification” (Romans 4:25; 5:1). Consider the simple figure of “thirst,” used repeatedly in Scripture to describe the sinner’s sense of need. “If any man thirst,” said the blessed Lord, “let him come unto Me, and drink” (John 7:37). Even a child knows that thirst is the result of something produced inside of us and that what relieves this thirst is something provided outside. When this outside provision is applied to the inside need, the thirst is quenched.

When faith receives the testimony of God’s word, as to Christ’s death; the conscience-troubled soul gets peace. I deserved death and condemnation, he will tell you, but Christ drank the cup of judgment, and died in my place. My sins were without number, but God, who alone knew them, laid them upon His beloved Son, as my substitute, and their undiminished judgment fell on His blessed head. All my badness has come out; nothing has been left hidden; nothing has escaped judgment.

“He was wounded for our transgressions,” “He was delivered for our offences,” God has raised Him from the dead, and it is faith in Him and the God who raised Him that brings peace to the soul.

It is no question of “growing better and better” on our part. If God could not save us until we were good enough to deserve it, our case would be hopeless. But instead of telling us to achieve a certain standard of merit, He has to teach us two very unwelcome facts about ourselves:

1St. Our sinfulness.

2nd. Our helplessness.

We must learn that not only are we guilty and ungodly, but that we have no strength to be what we try to be.

It was after repeated efforts at reformation, after numberless broken resolutions, that Romans 5:6 was applied to the longing soul of the writer, “For when we were yet without strength, in due time Christ died for the ungodly;” and just as water would meet the need of a traveler dying of thirst in some desert, that verse met his need. His past had given abundant proof that he was “ungodly,” while all his fruitless efforts to be what a Christian ought to be only proved that he was “without strength.” But now,

“My thirst was quenched, my soul revived, And now I live in Him.”

3. Don't I Need to Grow in Grace Until I Am Made Suitable for Heaven?

This difficulty is similar to the previous one. The answer will be simplified if we remember that our soul’s salvation depends entirely upon the value of what Christ did for us on the cross. There can be no progress in the believer’s security, no progress in deliverance “from the wrath to come,” since there can be no progress in a work already “finished.”

“The grace of God that bringeth salvation hath appeared to all men” (Titus 2:11).

“Now is the day of salvation” (2 Cor. 6:2).

“This day is salvation come to this house” (Luke 19:9).

“Who hath saved us” (2 Timothy 1:9).

“By grace ye are saved” (Ephesians 2:8).

It should be noticed, however, that besides this present aspect of salvation, though not our subject here, there is the future salvation of the body at the Lord’s coming (Philippians 3:21), and the daily preservation of those who are reconciled (Romans 5:10).

God had long before declared that He would not allow steps to His altar where mankind could approach Him.

“Thou shalt not build it of hewn stone; for if thou lift thy tool upon it, thou hast polluted it. Neither shalt thou go up by steps to mine altar” (Exodus 20:25-26). Notice! No skillful handwork (hewn stone), no progressive foot-work (go up by steps), is the teaching here! In figurative language it is, “Stand still and see the salvation of the Lord.” This altar (way to approach God) suited the dying thief crucified next to the Lord Jesus. What could he have done if any activity of hand or foot had been required? His were nailed to a cross. He could look to Jesus Christ — that was all. His sin brought him face to face with the Lamb of God — God’s approved sacrifice for sin. The Light of Life awakened the thief’s conscience; love attracted his heart; and without waiting for one day’s progress, he was made suitable for paradise there and then. Not only that on the best authority, God’s word, he knew it.

Is there no such thing as Christian progress or growth? Thank God, there is, but there is no progress in our suitableness for heaven, or our deliverance from judgment to come. Who “delivered us from the wrath to come” (1 Thessalonians 1:10). “Who hath made us meet to be partakers of the inheritance of the saints in light: who hath delivered us from the power of darkness” (Colossians 1:12-13).

Consider this illustration. A man unable to swim falls into a deep river. A gentleman, unknown to the drowning man, hurries along the banks to where he is struggling and sinking. Throwing off coat and hat, he boldly plunges to the rescue. His bravery is rewarded. The man is saved. A few words are exchanged of congratulation by the rescuer and grateful thanks from the rescued, and the deliverer and delivered separate to go to their different homes.

A third person has witnessed the whole occurrence, and, overtaking the rescued man, says: “Do you know who that person is who has just saved your life?”

“He told me his name,” the man replies, “but I would like to know him a little better.”

“Should I visit you sometime, and tell you more about him then? He is a wonderful person.”

“Do, please, by all means. Come and spend an hour this evening.”

The invitation is accepted, and it is renewed and accepted every night for a month, and each evening their one theme is the person who saved him from a watery grave. Wouldn’t he, at the end of the month, know a great deal more about his deliverer than he did at the beginning? Certainly! But would there have been any progress in the actual deliverance itself? No. And yet there has been growth. He has grown in the knowledge of the one who saved him.

Now let’s apply our illustration. The blessed Son of God saw that unless He interfered on our behalf, we would sink forever into the depths of God’s judgment for sin. There was no other eye to pity, no other arm to save. But “love moved Him to die,” and in the fullness of time He came.

He took charge of the work of our salvation. He entered death’s dark waters. The floods of judgment rose against Him. The waves of wrath rolled all their crushing weight over Him; so that for Him and His sheltered people there are none left. Justice is now satisfied. God is glorified in that sin atoning sacrifice; and by that finished work, every guilty one, who trusts Him, stands as clear of condemnation as Christ does who bore that condemnation for the sinner. He is “delivered from the wrath to come.” He is made a son of God through faith in Christ Jesus (Galatians 3:26), and because he is a son, God sends forth the Spirit of His Son into his heart, crying, Abba, Father (Galatians 4:6). Notice, we do not receive the Spirit to make us sons, but “because ye are sons.” Our bodies then become the temples of the Holy Ghost. (See 1 Corinthians 4:19.) He takes up His residence in us, and seals us to “the day of redemption,” that is, the “redemption of our body.” (Compare Ephesians 4:30 with Romans 8:23.)

He is not a mere visitor, making an occasional visit, like the man in the illustration. He comes to stay. He shall “abide with you forever” was the faithful promise (John 14:16). And what is His one great theme as the constant Indweller? It is Christ. “He shall testify of Me” (John 15:26). “He shall glorify Me: for He shall receive of Mine, and shall show it unto you” (John 16:14).

A very aged Christian died in Lincolnshire, England having been saved for seventy-five years. He served as a local preacher for fifty years. He had walked in his Master’s service, at the lowest estimate, about 15,000 miles. Yet he had no better right to salvation, after those many years of service, than the day he began. No doubt in seventy-five years he had been safely brought through many trials, saved from many traps, helped in many difficulties; and no doubt he had learned a great deal, both about himself and about his Master, that he didn’t know at the beginning. However, only Christ’s blood was his right to enter heaven at the start and only the blood remained his right at the end. His growth in grace during those long years depended upon the measure in which he walked in the fellowship of the Spirit; but unless you could add to the value of the precious blood, His right to glory could not grow. Impossible! If the saved man in our illustration had kept his visitor mostly occupied in correcting his own misconduct, there would have been very little growth in his knowledge of his deliverer. Sadly isn’t it that way with many of us? Our behavior makes the Holy Ghost grieved, for He has to be more occupied with correcting our crookedness than in His delightful function of unfolding Christ’s glories. It’s no wonder we don’t grow as Christians. But while the saved one ought to grow, growth in grace is not salvation from the judgment due to our sins.

It is noteworthy that the Apostle Peter not only exhorts us to “grow,” but tells us how to grow. “As newborn babes, desire the sincere milk of the word, that ye may grow thereby” (1 Peter 2:2). Someone might ask, How is it that we grow by feeding on the Word? It is because the Scriptures speak of Christ, “They are they which testify of Me” (John 5:39).

In this way —

The Spirit testifies of Christ

The Scriptures testify of Christ.

Both bring Christ before us, or rather the Spirit uses the Word to do it, and so causes us to grow in personal acquaintance with Christ Himself. But, let us repeat, there is no progress in our security. In the water the man needed deliverance, and would have died if he hadn’t got it; out of the water and on dry land he was safe.

In our sins we are unsaved.

Out of our sins, through the precious blood of Christ, we are saved. From then on the Holy Ghost resides in us. And what greater witness could we have that we are suitable for the presence of God than that the Holy Ghost can live in our bodies now? But, remember, He does so, not because of what we are in ourselves, but because of what the blood is. The oil (figure of the Spirit) was placed upon the blood of the trespass-offering when the leper was cleansed (Leviticus 14:17), not upon his bare flesh.

4. I'm Afraid I'm Too Great a Sinner to Be Saved, Too Wicked to Deserve God's Favor, Not Suitable for Any Relationship With Him.

Listen! There probably are thousands in hell who thought themselves too good to be “lost.” Then they tasted the bitter reality of being dead and lost beyond the reach of grace. But it’s certain that out of the huge number of redeemed people in glory not one could be found to say, “I’m here enjoying heaven because on earth I was good enough to be saved.” The Apostle Peter is there, and he called himself “a sinful man,” unfit for his Master’s presence. Paul confessed to being the “chief of sinners,” and so for all the rest. “By grace,” and by grace alone, every one of them has been saved.

The fact is, the thought of deserving salvation is as natural to man’s heart as the ugly weeds are to his garden. Satan knows how to take advantage of this, and to hide from man’s eye the lovely character of the “manifold grace of God,” whereby alone he can be saved. Satan hates the story of God’s grace; for it cannot be told without recording the redemption glories of Christ. It is “grace” that reigns through righteousness — a righteousness declared at the cross, where the judgment due to the sinner fell upon the voluntary Substitute. It is only because of that precious shed blood that free, undeserved pardon could be preached to guilty sinners.

Thus the merit is all on His side, the guilt on ours. We are bad enough to deserve the judgment; He is good enough to come and take our death — good enough to take the judgment for us. He suffered all of it and said, “It is finished.” God has only two ways of dealing with guilty men. He will either give them (standing on their own merits) all they deserve, to the very last drop; or, coming to Christ as guilty and lost, He will give them, completely, what Christ deserves.

If you only got a glimpse of what grace is, you would never again talk of being too bad to be saved.

Suppose a man were to put over his door (let’s call it No. 2) these words:

A free breakfast provided every morning in this house. Tickets given away next door (No. 1) to seniors only. None admitted after nine o’clock.

What senior would be so foolish as to stand shivering outside that door until after nine o’clock, fearing that he was “too old” to be entitled to a ticket for the breakfast? No, the older the person the more undeniable his title to the free ticket.

But suppose, further, that a certain senior, having refused to go to door No. 1 for the ticket, goes up to door No. 2 and applies for the breakfast without it. Should he be surprised if he finds the door closed to him? What good would it do if he argues, “You have just admitted an older man than myself.” “True,” would be the answer, “but it is not because of his advanced age that he was admitted. His age gave him the best possible recommendation for a free ticket — had he been younger his right to be called a senior might have been questioned — but it is the ticket that gives the older man a right for the breakfast, and this you have refused. Leave.”

There are many who seem to think that because all are sinners, and because they hear that God is going to take some of them to heaven, it must therefore be the best of them. From this they reason, if so and so gets there, I will certainly stand a good chance of getting in. But pay close attention, your being a sinner gives you no right to heaven, even if you could claim to be the best person alive today. Your being a sinner gives you the best possible recommendation to the Saviour, but it is the Saviour that gives you a right to enter glory.

“This Man receiveth sinners” (Luke 15:2) is the inscription over the Saviour’s doorway, and none can be too bad. Read again, “no man cometh to the Father, but by Me.” “Him that cometh to Me I will in no wise cast out” (John 14:6; John 6:37). And again, “Come unto Me all ye that labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest” (Matthew 11:28). “By Me if any man enter in, he shall be saved” (John 10:9).

“Look unto Me, and be ye saved, all the ends of the earth” (Isaiah 45:22).

“Whosoever shall call upon the name of the Lord shall be saved” (Romans 10:13).

Beware that, like the senior, you don’t practically ignore house No. 1, and presume that you can, through what you are, claim the benefit at house No. 2. It’s only because of what Christ is, and what He has done, that we can be saved. If you had as many good deeds to boast of as there are grains of sand on the ocean shore, and your sins were as few and far between as the largest ships that sail on her surface, or as hidden as the deadly mines that lie covered in her floor, without Christ you have no right, except to the lake of fire. One sin would be your ruin — an idle word, a wicked thought, a single act of self-will would as surely be enough to shut you out of heaven, as one act of disobedience shut Adam out of paradise.

Don’t waste your precious time in “trying to do better” before you come to Christ. The very fact that you need such reformation proves the past is bad; and if you presume to stand upon your own merit, remember that it is written, “God requireth that which is past” (Ecclesiastes 3:15).

To say that you are “too bad” is to diminish the glory of the all-abounding grace of God, to limit the power of the all-cleansing blood of Jesus. It’s as easy for the ocean to float the 5,000-ton ship on her surface as the down from a sea-gull’s wing. And since it is our hearts He seeks for, and since those to whom much is forgiven love much, be assured He is as willing to welcome the worst as He is able to save the most sinful.

A few years ago I visited the house of a well-to-do business man to see his only daughter on her death bed. She was sinking without hope, and she knew it. The poor mother had failed to sooth her daughter’s fears by telling her that there was no real cause for alarm about the future. Even though she had spent her last summer on earth with all the excitement of parties in London, yet that she had been “such a pure minded girl in it all.”

After considerable reluctance on the part of the parents, I was at last permitted to go upstairs to the sick-room.

I knelt down at the bedside and cried from my soul’s depths for the eternal blessing of this dying lady. Rising from my knees, I read a few verses from Romans 5, focusing on verse 8, “God commendeth His love toward us, in that, while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us.”

At this point she exclaimed, “you do not know what I’ve been, or you would not talk to me about God’s love. There can be no mercy for me!”

I replied, “I believe that if you saw yourself as God sees you, you would see yourself as ten thousand times worse than you do. But you have, I think, made a great mistake today.”

The aged father looked inquiringly through his tears from the other side of the bed, as much as to say, “What mistake has she made?”

“Well,” I continued, “I have not come all this way to ask whether you think you are sufficiently worthy for God to trust you, but to bring you the good news that God thinks His Son is sufficiently worthy for you to trust Him. And on this depends your blessing for eternity.”

In a moment her face changed as though a ray of heavenly light had just entered.

Nor can there be a doubt about it. Her father soon wrote to tell me about his daughter’s blessing, and said that she soon would be with Christ.

May the Lord let the rays of the glory of His grace enter your troubled heart and help you to see that God is not looking for worthiness in you as to the past, nor for any resolve that you will be worthy for the future; but He has a lot to say to you about the worthiness of Jesus, His beloved Son.

He is the “Nail” fastened in “a sure place,” and on Him you may safely hang in calmest confidence. If the “Nail” comes down all must fall that was hung on it, whether vessels of burnished gold or the roughest earthenware. Their safety in hanging on it depends not upon the quality of the cups, but the stability of the “Nail.” (See Isaiah 22:23-24.)

Believe on Him, because He is worthy, and take the pledge of His own word, that the blessing is yours. “God so loved the world, that He gave His only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in Him should not perish, but have everlasting life” (John 3:16).

5. I've Tried to Make My Peace With God, but Have Never Felt at Rest About It. I'm Afraid I Haven't Tried in the Right Way.

There is no such thing as “trying in the right way” to make your peace with God. In the first place you don’t need to if you could; in the second, you couldn’t if you wanted to. To make peace with God about your sins would be to meet His righteous claims about them, to bear His righteous judgment upon them. Who is so bold as to attempt that? Surely no one. Nor, thank God, are they asked to do it. It was the work of Another. Christ “made peace by the blood of His cross,” and by the Holy Ghost, come down from the great Peace-Maker, the God of peace is now “preaching peace by Jesus Christ.” It’s in believing what He has done that peace with God becomes ours. “Being justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ” (Romans 5:1).

What most men mean by “making their peace with God” is appeasing Him by doing something to commend themselves to His favor, as Jacob tried to appease the expected anger of a robbed and disappointed Esau. “I will appease him with the present that goeth before me, and afterward I will see his face; peradventure he will accept of me” (Genesis 32:20). They hope that, in consideration of their amended ways, He will pass over the sins of a past lifetime, and take them to heaven. But is sin and its atonement so insignificant a thing as that? They are right in regarding it as an insignificant thing, “if,” as someone has said, “as my breath blows out the candle, or a drop of water extinguishes it, a prayer, a penitent sigh, or a few dropping tears can extinguish the wrath of God.” Such people must know perfectly well that a mere expression of sorrow, a slight repentance, would never be accepted as payment of a debt between man and man; yet they are blind enough to think that such would meet the claims of a holy God against a lifetime of sin! Nor is it merely a question of treating sin as insignificant; it is trivializing what God is, both as “light” and “love.” If sin must be met, according to His righteous demands, all the tears of repentance this world ever knew couldn’t meet it. It must be by blood-shedding, not tear-shedding. For “without the shedding of blood is no remission.” What, then, is the glad tidings of the gospel? It is this, “Christ hath once suffered for sins, the just for the unjust, that He might bring us to God” (1 Peter 3:18). Notice, He “suffered”; for suffering was the righteous reward for our sins. So that instead of our doings commending us to God’s love, “God commendeth His love toward us, in that, while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us” (Romans 5:8). If a debt must be paid, an ocean of tears would not cancel it. Neither regrets for the past, however sincere, nor promises for the future, however honest, would settle this account. But if the debtor knew that a friend had stepped in and paid the debt in full, all thought of “trying to make peace” with the creditor would be at an end.

No doubt every anxious soul begins with the right thought, when he says within himself, “If, considering all my sins, I am ever to be put right with a holy God, something must be done?”

But it is then that Satan finds a fair chance of whispering, Yes, you’ll find God unfeeling and exacting enough, so you had better start and do. The gospel is not enough, something must be done, therefore I must do it. But rather this, The something which was necessary, has been done. Christ has done it; so that God has highly exalted Him in consequence. It is as an enthroned Saviour that the apostle, by the Spirit of God, draws the believer’s attention to and says, “He is our peace.”

Returned soldiers of a victorious army display their bullet-torn, blood-stained flag, with their various trophies and spoils of war, and thereby declare the cost of defeating the enemy, securing peace and establishing their nation. So Jesus, the triumphant, risen One, returning from the place of conflict and death, announces the peace He had secured for His own (John 20:19-20); at the same time displaying His wounded hands and side to remind them of the mighty cost of making their peace and silencing Satan forever.

Can we, then, behold that glory-crowned Victor on “the throne of the Majesty in the heavens,” and still talk of making our peace with God? Instead shouldn’t we sing, “The Lord hath triumphed gloriously,” and “hath given us the victory”?

His be the Victors name,

Who fought the fight alone;

Triumphant saints no honor claim —

His conquest was their own.

6. I See Clearly What Christ Has Done, If I Could Only Accept It and Feel Satisfied.

Souls in this state may think that they see what Christ has done, but if they really understood the nature of His finished work they wouldn’t speak like that.

Consider this illustration: A young vagrant breaks a shop window. He is caught, and a righteous demand is made for repairing it. But he has no money; and, if the claim is pressed, he’ll have to go to prison. It so happens that a relative of the shopkeeper is on the spot at the time, and recognizes the boy. He immediately reaches for his wallet; a few words of gentle rebuke, which almost break the boy’s heart, and then comes the important question, What do you demand for damages?

One hundred dollars, is the prompt reply.

Here it is, then. Are you satisfied?

Taking the money, he answers, Perfectly.

The receipt is given, the shopkeeper is satisfied; and the boy is — What? Left to beg for mercy? Left to wish he could accept what his friend has done? No. He knows that mercy has been shown, and he is free — free from all charge. He knows also that he is not the one that needs to be satisfied. But he says, If the one whose window I have broken is satisfied, why shouldn’t I be at rest about it also?

Now if you could meet the boy, and ask him about the incident, he would tell you that he could never think of his own rash act without remembering his friend’s kindness. Suppose you said, How do you know that the shopkeeper won’t still come after you for the payment?

He would never do that! He couldn’t do it fairly, would be his reply. In fact, he owes it to the one who paid the hundred dollars to forgive me. It is due to my friend that I should go free!

Do you mean to say then, that you are depending on his righteous character?

Certainly; he is too righteous to demand a double payment for the same debt.

Now, is there any need to apply the illustration? Didn’t Christ bridge the gap that sin had made between a holy God and sinful men? Didn’t He offer Himself “without spot to God” for the satisfying of all God’s righteous demands as to sin? And wasn’t He also the gift of God’s love, the Lamb of God’s own providing?

The question is not, Can you accept what He has done? The question is, Can God accept what Christ has done as satisfying the infinite claim of His own justice against our sins? Don’t you believe that God has accepted what His Son endured for our sins on the cross? If you do, begin at once to praise the One who suffered for you, and the God who gave Him in love to do it.

God’s acceptance of the Substitute’s work has been abundantly proved. The rent veil of the temple, the open tomb of Jesus, the glory that came down to raise the once forsaken Sinbearer out of the grave, His present place of highest exaltation at the Father’s right hand, the glory which shines in His face, the crowns which encircle his brow, all assure us that His work has been accepted. Then, added to this chorus of heavenly testimony, are the wondrous words which came from His own blessed lips before He ascended to the Father, “I have glorified Thee on the earth: I have finished the work which Thou gavest Me to do ” (John 17:4).

Then how cheering it is that it is God’s Word which assigns the benefit of this work to the sinner. “This is a faithful saying, and worthy of all acceptation, that Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners” (1 Timothy 1:15; see also, Romans 5:6-8).

Consider a prisoner waiting in his condemned cell for execution. A messenger enters with news of importance. I am sent to tell you, he says, that someone outside has volunteered to die for you.

How excited the prisoner looks all at once! How flushed! And no wonder.

Offered to die for ME! Who, who? he gasps out, Who is it? Then follows question after question, in quick succession.

It sounds too good to be true. Do you think he really means it? and if sincere now, won’t he, perhaps, change his mind after all?

No fear of that, says the messenger. It is my privilege to inform you that he has already died for you!

But what of the Government authorities? Is the Queen satisfied?

Yes; your friend was accepted as your voluntary substitute before he went to the scaffold; and now that the execution has taken place, Her Majesty has sent me to tell you that there is no bar between you and home and liberty. Forgiveness and freedom are, through him who died for you, graciously announced to you in the Queen’s name.

Now, not only did Christ offer Himself without spot to God for you (see Hebrews 9:14 and Hebrews 10:9), but He “hath once suffered for sins, the just for the unjust, that He might bring us to God” (1 Peter 3:18). Why is it added, “that He might bring us to God”? Because God wanted to have us near Himself. And now God has not only declared Himself satisfied with the work — doubly satisfied, His loving heart and holy claims both satisfied — but glorified also.

This is of the greatest importance; for what use would any man’s death have been for the condemned man if the Throne had not accepted the act of substitution? [The criminal’s acceptance of the substitute is supposed in this case.] Now listen to the Word of God (John 13:32), “If God be glorified in Him, God shall also glorify Him in Himself, and shall straightway glorify Him.”

This He did; for we read:

1. “He was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father” (Romans 6:4).

2. That He was “received up in glory” (1 Timothy 3:16).

3. That He is “crowned with glory and honor” (Hebrews 2:9).

What greater proofs than these could God give that He was satisfied with the work of Christ? And if He is satisfied, shouldn’t we be also? Satisfied, not with ourselves or our humble doings, but with Christ and the work by which He brought eternal glory to God, in securing eternal blessing for man.

May the reader be no longer occupied with his or her feelings of satisfaction, but be able to say —

Sweetest rest and peace now fill me,

Sweeter praise than tongue can tell;

God is satisfied with Jesus,

I am satisfied as well.

7. Begging for Forgiveness Has Not Brought the Pardon I Crave.

In considering the question of the forgiveness of sins it is important to first see the real basis for it. If I get God’s forgiveness I must get it in God’s way. Now, it is plain in Scripture that God links our forgiveness with the redemption value of the blood of Christ. “We have redemption through His blood, the forgiveness of sins, according to the riches of His grace” (Ephesians 1:7).

Two great mistakes on this point seem to be common today. One, that we shall secure forgiveness if we beg hard enough and long enough to induce God to give it us. The other, that we shall be made sure that it is ours through certain inward emotions. The truth is,

1. That it is secured for us by the blood of Christ.

2. It is received by faith.

3. That it is assured to us by the Word of God.

Not that any sober-minded Christian could be other than glad to hear a cry for mercy from the heart and lips of a convicted sinner. But it is not the less important for an anxious soul to see that it is not by his tears and cries that forgiveness is secured, but by the blood of Christ, and by His blood alone. “Without the shedding of blood there is no remission” (Hebrews 9:22). Nor, on the other hand, could we help rejoicing to see a forgiven sinner’s heart overflowing with “a joy too deep for words.” But we would remind him that he must have, for the settled assurance of forgiveness, something more solid to rest upon than the deepest feelings joy can give. How many thousands have already found this out to their sorrow. While the joy and freshness of first love lasts they feel secure; but as they learn more about their own wickedness their joy decreases, and they are left stranded in dark uncertainty.

We must learn to link our forgiveness with the price which secured it. What solid rest it would give a poor debtor, if he had not only seen the account settled in his creditor’s office, but the very $100 bill, which a friend had paid for him, clipped to the page of the ledger where his account was recorded! How boldly he could say, I am clear of my debt, and haven’t been satisfied by installments either; nor, to use a common figure, “let out on bail” until a future reckoning! My account has been cleared off in full, once for all.

The trembling sinner feareth

That God can ne’er forget;

But one full payment cleareth

His memory of all debt.

When naught beside could free us,

Or set our souls at large,

Thy holy work, Lord Jesus,

Secured a full discharge.

This leads to another and very common difficulty.

8. If I Could Only Feel Happy, I Think I Would Know That My Sins Were Forgiven.

Perhaps this is the most common difficulty. Troubled individuals hear Christians speak of the joy they experienced when they understood that their sins were forgiven. An anxious one, listening to such statements, naturally gathers that it was by this flood of heavenly joy that these believers knew that they were pardoned.

Would the forgiven debtor, just mentioned, tell us that it was because he felt happy that he knew his debt was canceled? Wouldn’t he rather insist that he had good reason for feeling happy, since he knew his debt was canceled? And wouldn’t he have equal right to say, that his not feeling as happy one time as another, could not alter the value of that $100 bill clipped to his account?

But what would you think of this man’s neighbor, who is also a debtor, saying one day, If I could only feel as happy as my neighbor, I would know that my debt was wiped out too.

Could anything be more absurd? Yet how many anxious souls are making precisely the same foolish mistake.

It is beginning with a completely wrong perspective. You must begin with God instead of yourself. The Creditor’s satisfaction must be secured before the debtor’s mind can properly be at rest.

Nor is it merely a question of righteous satisfaction, though nothing less could give settled peace; for behind Calvary’s “great transaction” we find the yearning and overflowing love of God. The desire that our sins should be blotted out, originated, not in our hearts, but in His. Neither was the work of the cross the means of drawing God’s heart toward us. It was the perfect expression, the overflowing outcome of it. It was “by the grace of God” that He “tasted death for every man” (Hebrews 2:9). “The Father sent the Son.”

He knew that nothing but the infinite value of the precious blood of Jesus could atone for sin. “It is the blood that maketh an atonement for the soul,” He had declared long before Christ died. What’s more, “I have given it to you upon the altar” (Leviticus 17:11). When God’s time had come that blood was shed, and with the Spirit’s declaration of what the blood can accomplish — it “cleanseth from all sin” — comes the announcement, “Be it known unto you ... that. ... by Him all that believe are justified from all things” (Acts 13:38-39).

What a comfort to know that we are privileged to rest upon God’s thoughts; not our own. If He tells me that He, the only one who could understand the desperate character of my case, has met it in His own way, by the blood of Christ, I bow and believe Him. If He gives me the promise of what that blood can accomplish, I gratefully accept it. If He is pleased to declare what He thinks of all who have faith in that blood, I simply believe it. I believe it because God says it, and not because I feel it. Or, to put it more briefly, I believe —

1St. What God’s thoughts are about my need.

2nd. What His thoughts are about the blood of Christ whom He has given to meet that need.

3rd. What His thoughts are about all who believe His testimony as to it.

You cannot believe the first and second without being “justified from all things.” You cannot believe the third without being sure of it.

God says, “All that believe are justified from all things.” And notice, it is the present tense, not future. It is “are,” not shall be. All the evil things which God knew against them are no longer laid to their charge, and for the best of reasons, namely, that they have been reckoned against Him who died for them and rose again. There is nothing here about feeling happy. How can I be really happy till I know I am justified? And how can I know it except by the best possible authority? And what better authority than that God says so?

Upon the same authority the believer is privileged to go one step further in the assurance of his blessing. God declares that “Whom He justified, them He also glorified” (Romans 8:30).

So that if believing makes justification certain in time, justification makes glory certain in eternity; and I know both on the authority of God Himself.

Two winters ago I saw a large sheet-iron advertisement which had evidently fallen from the wall where it had been placed. I observed that the masonry of the wall had been covered with thick plaster, and that the advertisement had been fixed to this plaster. When the frosts and rains of winter came, the plaster had broken from the wall in large masses; and when it fell the advertisement naturally fell with it.

Had the iron sheet been fastened to the wall itself, it would, in all probability, not have fallen till the wall did. Now here is a valuable hint for you. Fasten your assurance of pardon to the happy feelings of today, and when, by tomorrow, your happy feelings are gone, your assurance will have gone also. But if you would have settled assurance, you must fasten it to that which cannot be unsettled. “Forever, O Lord, Thy word is settled in heaven” (Psalm 119:89). “The word of our God shall stand forever” (Isaiah 40:8).

David said, “I have stuck to Thy testimonies” (Psalm 119:31), and if you do the same, that is, if you stick to divine testimony, divine assurance will surely stick to you. You will not be “put to shame,” either here or hereafter.

9. If God Has Given His Son, Must I Not Accept Him? My Fear Is That I Haven't Done It yet, Though I Know He Is a Worthy Saviour, and My Heart Longs for Him.

It’s certain that no such difficulty could come up with natural relationships, nor would it with spiritual things, if our souls were more simple and childlike. Consider the history of Isaac and Rebecca in Genesis 24. The effect of hearing about Isaac from Abraham’s servant was a desire created in Rebecca’s heart for the one she was hearing about, the question of “accepting Isaac” wasn’t necessary!

Abraham was wishful to give Isaac to her; and when the moment arrived that she desired to have him, that part of the matter was settled.

Now, if through a sense of your guilty state before God, you wish to have Christ, surely in your heart of hearts you have accepted Him already, even though you may have been too timid to confess it, either to Him or to anyone else.

The “loving” and the “giving” are on God’s side; the gift is His only begotten Son; and you cannot really want Him without being welcome to Him.

Rebecca certainly could not weep because Abraham didn’t want her to have Isaac, for didn’t his servant come that long and tedious journey because he had wanted it?

But think of her weeping in disconsolate sorrow because she feared she hadn’t accepted him! What would you have said to her? You’d say that every tear shed about it was an undeniable proof that, in her heart, she had accepted him! What self-occupation will reduce us to! The Lord grant us more childlike simplicity, and save us from the foolish reasoning of our hearts.

10. I Know It's All About Believing, and I Try to Believe, but Cannot.

Let’s examine this common statement a little more closely. People little dream what’s involved in it.

God has fully declared Himself in the Person of His blessed Son, and acted in this world in perfect consistency with Himself. In doing this He has, according to your view, so far forfeited all claim to your confidence that you even “try to believe on Him, but cannot”! More than this, He has sent a special message from heaven by the Holy Ghost — the gospel message; but the news He sent is so unworthy of your acceptation, that though you have been good enough to try to believe it, you really cannot.

It is written that “Abraham believed God” (Romans 4:3). How simple is that statement! We are told subsequently (Romans 4:19), that he didn’t consider appearances, he didn’t look at himself, he had another Person before him, one so reliable that he believed He was able to perform what He had promised. And thus, we are told, “he gave glory to God.”

Suppose it had been written: “Abraham tried to believe God, but couldn’t,” what a serious insult to that Eternal God, who cannot lie!

Now compare your own statement with this and get upon your face before Him, and confess the God-dishonoring character of your unbelief.

Your statement makes you out to be trying to trust an untrustworthy person! If it were only the question of a few dollars, what business man would try to trust such a person?

“Oh, but I don’t think He is unworthy!” Then your words do both you and Him an injustice; for who would speak of trying to trust one in whom they really had confidence? Has a child to try to trust its mother?

I’m afraid that you are looking at faith as some great work that you are required to perform, in order to secure salvation for yourself. Isn’t that right?

That approach is all wrong. We must learn to distinguish between faith and the activities of faith. A bank offers you good security, and you prove your faith in it by depositing your money there.

You are in a strange land, in company with friends who know the neighborhood well. A deep dark stream has to be crossed, and only one solitary plank connects the two banks. You are told, by those best able to judge, that the plank will hold you, and because you trust them you unhesitatingly place both feet upon it and walk across.

If you took your berth on board an American ocean liner, it would prove your confidence in her seaworthiness. Your faith in her may be very wavering or very firm, but the moment, as a passenger, you board that vessel, you confess by action, if not by word, your confidence in her ability to carry you safely across the broad Atlantic. You heard of her, your confidence was inspired by that which you did hear, and then came the act which publicly expressed that your trust in her was a real thing. So we read: “With the heart man believeth unto righteousness, and with the mouth confession is made unto salvation” (Romans 10:10).

“Faith cometh by hearing, Hearing by the word of God” (Romans 10:17). The word of God testifies of an All-worthy Saviour. I get such a report of Him that, without trying, I do believe on Him. And when I go to Him and tell Him so, and act accordingly, I am but confessing by lip and by life where my confidence rests.

Consider that worthy One in the place where righteousness has now placed Him, and the next time you say in your heart “I cannot believe,” ask yourself the following questions:

1St. Who is it that I cannot believe?

2nd. What has He said that is so unworthy of my acceptance?

3rd. What has He done, and how has He behaved, to sacrifice my confidence so entirely?

11. I Can't Believe That I Am Saved. I Fear My Faith Is Not Strong Enough.

Some souls speak as though God only grants salvation to those whose faith reaches a certain standard. That standard is that they are able to believe themselves to be saved. But this is making a saviour of their faith. An anxious soul once said to me, “I fear I’m not one of the elect.”

“Why do you say so?”

“Because I haven’t faith enough to believe that I am justified.”

If you had, you would not be justified as a result. This is not what God asks you to believe for salvation. He does not say, If you can only believe that you are justified, you are justified; but if you believe on Him whom I gave to die for you and who rose again, you have the authority of My word for knowing that you are justified (Acts 13:38-39).

Great faith may bring great comfort to the one who has it, but it does not bring a greater salvation than little faith. “Go in peace” was the Lord’s word, both to her who came with a timid touch, and to her who came with a bold touch. (Compare Luke 8:48 and Luke 7:50.) True faith, however feeble, always lays hold upon Christ. It rests on his precious blood for safety, and allows no other trust to intrude. It flies for shelter to Him as the only door of refuge, and will accept no other offer, however plausible it may be.

The manslayer who reached a “city of refuge” in the land of Canaan was not secure because of the greatness or strength of his faith, but because he had reached a refuge of God’s own providing. He might have entered and stood within its gates in greatest fear and trembling, or he might have been there without a shade of doubt or the faintest tinge of misgiving; but he had reached the refuge, and that was enough in God’s account to secure his safety.

Neither did his safety consist in believing that he was safe. He might presumptuously have believed this, stayed at home, and died. This would not do; but having availed himself of God’s provision, he was as secure as that provision could make him.

It’s truly solemn to think of the enemy’s diligence in putting anything before the soul as an object of faith rather than Christ. But the blessed patient One speaks from on high, and still says, “Look unto Me, and be ye saved, all the ends of the earth” (Isaiah 45:22).

Happy is he who can say —

I need no other argument,

I want no other plea;

It is enough that Jesus died,

And rose again for me.

12. Have I Come to Jesus in the Right Way?

There is only one right way, and that is with the sense in your soul that you have a need which none but He can meet. Don’t get occupied with the act of coming. Look at that poor weak woman in the Gospels, elbowing her way through the crowd until she was able to stoop down and touch the hem of His garment. What was her heart occupied with? Not with the actual coming, but with the Person she is bent upon reaching. All other help had failed, and if another and more able physician had met her on the road, she had nothing to pay his fee. “She had spent all her living.” But she had “heard of Jesus,” and she believed that He was as able to heal the most hopeless as He was willing to heal the most helpless. Filled with the thought that to reach Him would be healing and health, and that missing Him would leave her hopelessly incurable for the remainder of her days, she pressed forward till that timid touch brought all that her heart could wish for. What a circuitous path it must have been in that pressing crowd! No other could have come exactly by the same way. But, thank God, since then tens of thousands have come to the same Person, saying —

Other refuge have I none,

Hangs my helpless soul on Thee.

Without Thee I perish forever,

But Thou wilt “in no wise cast out.”

To Thee “O Lamb of God, I come.

Welcome they all have been, none were denied.

13. Do I Have the Right Kind of Faith?

This is a most perplexing difficulty with many, but in reality it is only another form of self-occupation.

What good would it do if you had the right kind of faith, if there wasn’t the right kind of Person to have faith in? And who can this Person be but the One who is both able and willing to meet your need?

What man, after being made conscious of some enormous debt, and his own utter inability to meet it, would talk like this after he had heard of a friend’s generosity in paying the debt? Put yourself into such a position and see how such language would sound coming from your mouth: I do believe my friend has paid all for me, but I wonder if I have believed in the right way?

If a question arose at all, would you not rather inquire, Has the payment been made in the right way, and is my creditor satisfied with this way of settling my account?

But it may be inquired, Isn’t it possible to believe with the head, and not with the heart? Sadly there is too much of that.

What, then, is the difference?

To believe on Him in your heart is simply to believe on Him with the consciousness in your heart that He is the only One who can meet your case and that without Him you will perish forever, and so you confide in Him. It is more than a mere agreement with the historical fact that He died and rose again. It is to see yourself, without His precious sacrifice, hopelessly facing judgment, and so you believe in Him.

It is one thing for a man to say, I believe that in a certain nook on the shore a lifeboat is kept, with willing hands always near and ready to man her. It is another thing to find yourself on the shivering deck of some stranded, sinking ship, sending up rockets as signals of distress, in order that you may be saved by that lifeboat, and eagerly stepping on board when she approaches. It is one thing to believe that a certain skilled physician visits a fever-sick neighbor every day, and another thing — conscious that you have caught the same sickness — to stand anxiously watching for his approach, in order to put your own case into his hands, and, when he comes, gladly and trustfully to submit yourself to his treatment.

A feeble mother hears, at midnight, the stealthy footsteps of burglars in the house. Her two children are in bed, the eldest only a girl of nine. Which of them will she call to ward off these intruders? Neither of them. Her great fear is that they will be awakened by what is going on. She has no confidence in them to meet the difficulty; neither is she, in her weakness, equal to the task. What then is to be done? She has long known that every night a policeman patrols the street in which she lives. Though she hadn’t for years doubted that fact, yet how differently she acts now, as she opens the window, and with all the energy she possesses, shouts, Police! Police!

Doesn’t her call to the police officer prove two things: 1St, that she has a real sense of her need of him; 2nd, that she has confidence in him to meet it? Now turn to Romans 10, and you will there see that verse 10 says, “With the heart man believeth unto righteousness;” and verse 13, “For whosoever shall call upon the name of the Lord shall be saved,” and again, verse 14, “How shall they call upon Him in whom they have not believed? and how shall they believe on Him of whom they have not heard?” The report which I hear of Him wins my confidence in Him. Then because I believe that only He can meet my need, I call on Him, and get the assurance of His word that salvation is mine; for He says, “Whosoever shall call upon the name of the Lord shall be saved.”

But don’t get occupied with faith itself; as though God wanted us to have faith in our faith. What good would it do you, we repeat, to have the right kind of faith, and plenty of it, if there wasn’t the right kind of Person to have faith in?

For example, what good would it have done the woman facing burglars to have had great faith in the man who lived next door, if, when she called and knocked, this man was either not at home or couldn’t be awakened? The strongest faith in him wouldn’t have saved her from the burglars, while the most trembling faith that causing a call to the policeman brought instant deliverance. It was for this very purpose that he was on the watch.

Do you believe, therefore, that you are totally “without strength” — perfectly helpless to meet the question of your guilt and sin; that Christ alone, by His meritorious death, can save you; that God has righteously given to Him sin’s full judgment, when in love He had given Himself to be made sin for us; and that God has declared His satisfaction in that sin-atoning sacrifice by raising Him from the dead and crowning Him with heavenly glory? Have you called upon Him in the sense that without Him, who is ready and willing to save, you are forever lost? Then take the sweet assurance which His own faithful word gives that salvation is yours. Do not hesitate to confess it, nor longer withhold the praise that is due to Him for it.

14. How May I Know That Christ Died for Me?

In the south of England I once met a woman who was for some time in great trouble of mind because someone had told her that her son, a soldier serving overseas, was dead; they had seen his name in the newspaper. The clergyman of the parish was kind enough to write to headquarters to inquire if it was true. And it turned out that a soldier of the same name had died, but it wasn’t her son.

Now, if God had published the names of all for whom Christ died, how long would it take you to examine all those names to see if your own was enrolled? A lifetime would be far too short to accomplish such a task; and should you happen to accidentally discover your own name, how would you be sure that it didn’t refer to another person of the same name?

Thank God, He hasn’t done so. He sets before us His own blessed, worthy Son. He presents Christ (as one has said) in the glory of His Person, the tenderness of His love, the value of His blood, the power of His resurrection, and, believing on Him, He assures us we shall “not perish, but have everlasting life.” But how could I possibly have escaped perishing? What could have saved me from eternal death if Christ had not died for me? Nothing.

But more than this. I find in God’s own word this blessed declaration: “This is a faithful saying, and worthy of all acceptation, that Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners.” If the Son of God is so worthy that I may safely rely on Him, here is the word of God, equally worthy of my trust — a “faithful saying,” and “worthy of all acceptation” — and what is it? It is this, that “Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners.” Has the Holy Spirit, therefore, discovered to me that I am a sinner? This “faithful saying,” then, gives me, before God, a divine right to say that Christ came into the world to save me, for I know that I belong to the class for whom He died, and only by His death could He save any.

15. I Have Been Waiting for God to Give Me Some Inward Proof or Sign of Pardon and Acceptance.

“Except ye see signs and wonders, ye will not believe” (John 4:48) is an old-fashioned barrier to blessing. It comes, in the unbelief of our hearts, from the desire to have something for sight or sense to rest on rather than the Word of God and the Person and work of Christ. How soul-refreshing it is to see that nobleman of John 4, turning from the reasonings of his own heart to lend a willing ear to, and find a satisfying sufficiency in, “the word that Jesus had spoken” (John 4:50).

Sooner or later we all have to fall back upon that. When the well-known preacher, Dr. Chalmers, was dying, he said to some of his theological friends standing near him, “Give me a bit of the pure Word of God to die upon.”

And who hasn’t heard of the Christian boy who, when the cold hand of death had dimmed his natural vision, said, “Find me John 3:16, mother? Now place my finger on the word ‘whosoever,’ and let me die with my finger there. Whosoever means me, mother.” The Word of God was enough for him. I knew a farmer in the fens of Lincolnshire who, in great perplexity of soul, asked God to give him some token of acceptance. He had a flock of sheep in the farmyard at the time, wandering about in various places within the farmyard enclosure, and he asked God, if there was any hope of salvation for him, that ten of these sheep might be in a certain wagon-shed when he went that way. Shortly afterwards he went to that side of the yard, and eagerly counted the sheep under that shed. To his great relief; he found exactly ten. Was this, do you think, enough for his anxious soul? No, it only gave him a temporary flush of hope, which soon passed away. Was it a mere accident, or was it a genuine sign from God in answer to his prayer? However, once more he boldly repeated his request, and once more desired that ten sheep in another corner of the yard might be his proof. With increased excitement, doubtless, he went to count the sheep; and once more, to his comfort and astonishment, found just ten “And did this give you peace and assurance?” we inquired. “No,” he said, “nothing gave me the certainty of my blessing until I got the sure word of God for it.” He was all in a fog of uncertainty until he planted his foot firmly on “Thus saith the Lord,” and took his bearings by the chart of Scripture.

If you open your Bible and turn to Luke 1, you will find a striking contrast between simple faith and sign-seeking unbelief. As soon as Mary heard the heavenly message she said, “Be it unto me according to thy word”; and the answer to her faith was, “Blessed is she that believed: for there shall be a performance of those things which were told her from the Lord ” (Luke 1:38,45).

On the other hand, when Zacharias had heard Gabriel’s message, he said, “Whereby shall I know?” and was unable to speak in consequence. Instead of his mouth being opened in praise, as Mary’s was, it was closed in mute silence by the judgment of God.

Oh that you might be brought, like the centurion of the Bible, to say to the Lord, “Speak the word only,” and that will be enough. For “Hath He said, and shall He not do it? or hath He spoken, and shall He not make it good?” (Numbers 23:19). Let it not be said to you, “Except ye see signs and wonders ye will not believe.” What greater wonder could be shown than what has been shown at Calvary — the Son of God dying for guilty rebels? What better token of safety than this, “The mouth of the Lord hath spoken it”?

16. I Am Afraid of Deceiving Myself — Presuming to Think I Am Saved When I Am Not.

Of all forms of deception, perhaps self-deception, and especially religious self-deception, is most to be feared. The issues at stake are so tremendous that one cannot be too careful about it.

But there is one thing certain — you can only be deceived by the person or thing that you trust. Ananias and Sapphira tried to practice deception on the apostles; but Peter wasn’t deceived, for he didn’t believe them. The serpent whispered a lie into the ears of Eve; and, believing it, she was “deceived.” If you want to escape the terrible consequences of self-deception, beware of the too common trap of self-occupation. Self can’t deceive you if it isn’t trusted; therefore, we repeat, beware of it. What the heart of man is naturally has been declared by the only One who knows it, to be “deceitful above all things” (Jeremiah 17:9). Solomon well said, “He that trusteth in his own heart is a fool” (Proverbs 28:26).

One of the West of England banks has adopted an excellent slogan, and has had it printed on their bank notes, “Weave truth with trust.” The excellence of this motto lies in the fact that appearances can’t be trusted. When Eliab, the son of Jesse, came before Samuel; he said, “Surely the Lord’s anointed is before me;” but outward appearances could not be trusted.” “The Lord seeth not as man seeth” (1 Samuel 16:6). The captain of the Dunbar thought he was alright, no doubt, as he steered his vessel toward Sydney harbor. But, he mistook the North Head light for the South Head light, and his fine ship was speedily reduced to a helpless wreck. Appearances deceived him. The patriarch Isaac had his misgivings about the one who, with savory dish in hand, and claiming to be Esau, asked for his father’s blessing, but he thought he might at any rate, trust his feelings. He did so, and was deceived thereby. Had the patriarch and the unfortunate captain woven truth with their trust, they wouldn’t have been mistaken.

Does my reader ask, “How is the truth to be arrived at?” We let the Scripture answer, “Thy word is truth” (John 17:17). “Thy word is true from the beginning” (Psalm 119:160).

Would you make sure against steering your vessel by a false light, and making eternal shipwreck? “Thy word is a lamp unto my feet, and a light unto my path” (Psalm 119:105). “The entrance of Thy word giveth light; it giveth understanding unto the simple” (Psalm 119:130). Would you have the truth itself without any human adulteration? “Every word of God is pure: He is a shield unto them that put their trust in Him. Add thou not unto His words, lest He reprove thee, and thou be found a liar” (Proverbs 30:5-6). “The truth is in Jesus” (Ephesians 4:21). He said, “I am the truth” (John 14:6). “Grace and truth came by Jesus Christ” (John 1:17). An old Christian once said, In coming to the Word of God, you will do well to remember three things:

1. Add nothing to it.

2. Take nothing from it.

3. Change nothing in it.

Three men in uniform stood talking together in the waiting-room of a country railway station — a policeman, a soldier, and the stationmaster. The policeman looked up at the clock and asked, referring to a piece of paper pasted across the face of the clock, “What does that mean?”

“She hasn’t been keeping the time lately,” said the station-master, “and not wanting anyone to be deceived by her, I placed that cover on her face. But if you want the exact time,” he said, bringing his watch from his pocket, “I can give it to you. It is just three minutes to train time.”

What a sensible thing, I thought, as I stood by. He has learned by experience that the clock isn’t to be trusted, and he treats it accordingly. May many self-occupied souls learn a lesson from this railway official, and write across the feelings and emotions of their own hearts, “Not to be trusted.” It is not that our feelings are always wrong. Indeed, we know they aren’t. A clock that never makes a tick is sure to be right twice in twenty-four hours. Nor would we say a word against happy feelings. No, there is something wrong in the believer’s walk or ways if he doesn’t feel happy. All we say is, If you don’t want to be self-deceived, don’t trust self in any way. Don’t rest your assurance on the brightest frame of mind ever experienced or on all your happy feelings put together. Be glad of them if you have them, but as soon as you get occupied with them instead of with Christ, all that is worth keeping about them will vanish, and you will be left chartless and without compass on a changing sea of doubt and misgiving.

17. but How Can I Believe I Am Saved Till I Feel It?

Feeling flows from faith, not faith from feeling. Take an illustration. A fond mother gets a letter from an unknown hand. It comes from a doctor in New Zealand, and gives the good news that her only son, just recovered from a dangerous illness, is on his way home. How happy the news makes her! Indeed, so intense is her emotion that she even weeps for joy. But where did the feelings of gladness come from?

She knew that her son was coming.

How did she know he was coming?

She believed the doctor’s letter.

Why did she believe the doctor’s word?

She had heard how kind he had been to her son, and she knew he would not try to deceive her.

So you see there were four distinct things in connection with it.

1St. She got the letter.

2nd. She believed it, because of who it was that sent it.

3rd. She knew her son was better, and on his way home, because she believed the letter.

4th. She felt happy about it, because she knew he was well in health and coming home.

Do you not see that the happy feelings come last, while you would put them first? She did not say, I know he is coming home, because I feel so happy; but I cannot help feeling happy, since I know my boy is coming.

And haven’t we got God’s letter, telling us of Christ’s accepted work, and what is true of those who trust in Him? Faith accepts the glad message, and rejoices.

Jesus did it — on the cross.

God says it — in His word.

I believe it — in my heart.

I believe it (not because I feel it, but) because God says it; and God has said it because Jesus did it.

“If thou shalt confess with thy mouth the Lord Jesus, and shalt believe in thy heart that God hath raised Him from the dead, thou shalt be saved” (Romans 10:9).

Faith boldly puts her Amen to what God says, BECAUSE God says it.

May my reader do the same.

18. Don't I Need an Inward Work of Grace? How Can I Be Certain That God's Work of Grace and My Repentance Have Been Deep and Real Enough?

The Spirit of God doesn’t occupy us with His work within us, but turns the eye to Christ and His finished work for us. It is true that unless there was a work of grace in our souls, we should never care to participate in the fruits of what the Saviour did for us on the cross. But peace rests, not upon our satisfaction in what we discover of the Spirit’s work in our hearts, but upon God’s satisfaction in Christ’s work on the cross. If we could only get peace when we were satisfied that the inward work of grace was deep enough, not a single honest believer would ever have peace in this world. His cry would still be, “Lord, deepen Thy work of grace in my soul;” and each succeeding day would find the petition repeated, “Deeper still, Lord, deeper still.”

A public drinking-fountain is placed in a certain market-place. Would you, stand gazing longingly on it, wondering whether your thirst was deep enough, although you knew you wanted a drink? Why no, your thirst brings you there; but it is the water which quenches your thirst when you are there. If you so realize your soul’s need, that the cry of your heart is, “I must have Christ; I will perish without Him!” be assured you are heartily welcome to Him “I will give unto him that is athirst of the fountain of the water of life freely” (Revelation 21:6). “Let him that is athirst come. And whosoever will, let him take the water of life freely” (Revelation 22:17).

How simple, how encouraging, how graciously lovely, are these closing invitations to the thirsty one on the closing pages of Holy Bible!

“I will give” — “freely.” “Let him take”— “freely.”

Repentance is the judgment of what we are, and what we have done in the light of what God is. It is the result of God’s work of grace in us. A traveler who falls into some dirty ditch in the darkness of midnight may get some idea of his filthy state when the moon, from behind the clouds, shines on him; and as the light of morning gradually dawns, he will get a still clearer and ever-increasing knowledge of his true condition. So the sinner, “by light from on high,” is brought to repentance; and the longer he walks with God, the nearer he comes to the light of “perfect day,” the deeper sense will he have of his own unworthiness. Never will he be able to say that his repentance is real enough, or the sense of his unworthiness deep enough. But this he can say, “The further I go, the more I discover that I am bad enough to need such a Saviour, and the more I wonder at the grace that could stoop to care for a sinner like me!”

19. I Am Troubled Because I Can't Give the Exact Day of My Conversion.

That is a small thing compared with the fact that you have turned to God from your evil ways; that you have trusted Christ, and are now seeking to serve Him. It has often been remarked that Paul did not say, when writing to his son Timothy, I know when I believed, (though doubtless he did) but “I know whom I have believed.” As it has been said, “I may not know exactly when I first woke up this morning, nor what woke me up, but I know I am awake.” God wouldn’t have us to have faith in our conversion, but in Christ. “The wind bloweth where it listeth, and thou hearest the sound thereof, but canst not tell whence it cometh, and whither it goeth: so is every one that is born of the Spirit” (John 3:8). When the Spirit begins His gracious work in the soul, He does not occupy me with His work, but with my need of Christ’s work. I bow before God as a repentant sinner. My one burning desire is to have Christ, yet I feel so vile that I fear He will not have me. I never dream at the time that all this is the fruit of a work of grace in my soul; and I may, in my ignorance, even date my blessing from the day when I found Christ, and, trusting in His blood, found peace. In reality the work of grace began on the day when the Spirit worked in me to turn my soul to seek Him. In the parable of the prodigal son, the work began when “he came to himself” in the far country, and said, “I will arise and go to my father;” not when the father was receiving him with a kiss. It begins when soul-thirst is created, not when it is quenched.

20. I Don't Love God As I Should. If I Could Only Find in Myself More of the Spirit's Fruit I Would Feel Some Satisfaction in Saying, I Hope I Am Saved.

Nearly half the difficulties of anxious souls are the result of confusing the work of the Spirit, which will not be finished while we are alive on earth, and the work of Christ finished on the cross.

They read that “the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, long-suffering,” etc., and if they could only discover these fruits in themselves, they imagine there would be some just ground for considering themselves to be Christians.

They think, moreover, that the presence of the Holy Ghost would make them feel very good, and when they feel the very opposite they are ready to take it for granted that they have “neither part nor lot in the matter.”

This is a complete mistake.

Listen —

“He does not make the soul to say,

Thank God I feel so good;

But turns the eye another way,

To Jesus and His blood.”

Moses was not occupied with his own shining face, neither was Stephen with his, though others saw the reflected glory on both. And the time when the fruits of the Spirit of God are most powerfully produced in us will be when we are most engaged with what Christ is to us, and what He has done and is doing for us. It will be when our hearts are so taken up with Christ that we are neither thinking of good self nor bad self, but only of Him. It is in “beholding” His glory that we are “changed into His image from glory to glory, even as by the Spirit of the Lord” (2 Corinthians 3:18).

We have heard of a Christian lady who got so occupied with her own love to Christ that she finally came to the conclusion that she had none. A fellow believer, failing to comfort her, at last left the bedside, and walking to the window sill, wrote upon a slip of paper these words:

I do not love the Lord Jesus Christ,

and handing the slip, together with a pencil, to the troubled believer, quietly said, Will you put your name to that? With no small energy, she immediately replied, I’d be cut to pieces first!

How was this? What made her so suddenly change her tone? The truth was, she both believed in Him and loved Him, but she had been dwelling rather on what she was towards Him than what He was in His own personal worth.

The measure of our love to Christ is the measure of our appreciation of His love to us (2 Corinthians 5:14; 1 John 4:19).

21. How Can I Be Always Confident When My State of Soul Is so Variable?

Our souls are never fully established until we see that our ever-changing practical state has nothing to do with our acceptance before God.

When Abel brought his offering to the Lord — “the firstling of his flock and the fat thereof” — we are told that “he obtained witness that he was righteous, God testifying of his gifts.” It was not the personal excellence of Abel that God looked at in counting him righteous, but the excellence of the sacrifice he brought, and his faith in it. When a business man takes a check to the bank, he receives the full value of what that check is worth. He wouldn’t get more if his character were extremely good or less if it were extremely bad. It is not a question of what he is worth, either morally or commercially, but what the check is worth. It was thus with Abel, and it is thus with every sinner coming to God through Christ. God reckons to the account of every such believer all that He knows the work of Christ is worth.

Is it perfect?

Yes.

Is it forever perfect?

Yes.

Then the believer’s place of acceptance corresponds thereto. Therefore we read, “By one offering He hath perfected forever them that are sanctified;” that is, those who have faith in Him. (See Acts 26:18.) Notice, it is not merely “perfect” in the present tense but “perfected.” There can be no rest when the work isn’t in the past tense as complete and finished forever.

A few years ago I travelled from the town of Penzance, in Cornwall, to the Land’s End. The driver drew my attention to a church in the distance. “That church,” he said, “we’ll pass soon, and I am told that between this point in the road and reaching the church we lose sight of it nine times.” This made me curious to test his statement. Presently we descended a small hill and entirely lost sight of the church. Once more we rose to the crest of the next hill, and once more the building could be distinctly seen. Again we dipped into the valley, the church becoming hidden from view; again we reached the summit, and again saw the church. So we traveled, sometimes losing sight and sometimes catching a fresh view, until we came within a few yards with the ancient pile in full view; having, as the driver had stated, lost sight of the old building nine times within that three or four miles.

How often do you suppose the church went up and down, in that short three or four miles drive?

The church up and down! you say. Not once. The ups and downs were with you, not with the church.

Exactly! And in the variable conditions of soul which you speak of, the ups and downs are with you, not with Christ. There are no ups and downs in God’s thought of Christ’s personal worth, or of the value of His sacrifice; and if He accepts you on that ground, there can be no ups and downs in your acceptance either. There is no change in Him above. He is “the same yesterday, and today, and forever;” and God “hath made us accepted in [Him] the Beloved” (Ephesians 1:6).

If you want to know what God thinks of the believer, you must turn the eye to Christ; for “as He is, so are we in this world” (1 John 4:17).

A preacher of our acquaintance, who had spent long years in the hopeless endeavor of reaching a kind of perfection in the flesh, at last got set free. He described his experience as follows. “I used to think that I must try to be good enough to be accepted; but now I see that it is Christ who is good enough to be accepted, and God accepts me in Him.” If our behavior had anything to do with our title to acceptance, then a flaw in our behavior would necessarily mean a flaw in our title. But, thank God, the truth is that our behavior flows from the knowledge of our place of acceptance before the Father, and not that our acceptance is based upon our behavior. We are “called saints,” that is, constituted saints by the calling of God, and then asked to “walk as becometh saints.” We are called to behold the manner of love bestowed upon us that we should be called His children, and then told, “as dear children,” to “walk in love” (1 Corinthians 1:2; Ephesians 5:3; 1 John 3:1; Ephesians 5:1). To use a figure, God first fills the wallet, and then teaches us how to spend what He gives.

22. Can't I Fall From Grace, and Perish? and Isn't It Dangerous to Teach Anything Else?

Perish? A true believer perish? Let the Person best able to answer that weighty question do so. He says, “Never!” “I give unto them eternal life; and they shall never perish” (John 10:28). Wasn’t it God’s object in giving His Son to be lifted up, that “whosoever believeth in Him should not perish, but have everlasting life”? (John 3:16).

Now if the Great and Good Shepherd has pledged His holy word that no sheep of His shall ever perish (and it is the unbeliever who is not His sheep, see John 10:26), why not honor His blessed word, and take the comfort for your trembling soul that such an assurance gives? We maintain that to do otherwise is to cast a slur on His faithfulness! With the greatest sincerity some sing that line of the hymn —

“A charge to keep I have,”

and entirely overlook the fact that there is another side to be considered — that the Lord Jesus Christ, in loving devotedness to His Father’s will, has a precious “charge to keep.” Didn’t He say, “This is the Father’s will which hath sent Me, that of all which He hath given Me I should lose nothing”? (John 6:39).

How, then, can any speak of the possibility of one of “His own” being lost, without suggesting at the same time the possibility of His being unfaithful to the perfect carrying out of His Father’s will? Such Christ dishonoring thoughts could never find a place in any heart that knew and loved that blessed One — the “Holy” and the “True.” Impossible! Listen to His own words to the Father: “Those that Thou gavest Me I have kept, and none of them is lost, but the son of perdition; that the Scripture might be fulfilled” (John 17:12). And again: “Of them which Thou gavest Me have I lost none” (John 18:9). No. The great Captain of our salvation is “bringing many sons unto glory” — nothing short of it is the Father’s purpose for them — and when they surround Him there, He will, without exception, be able to say, “Behold I and the children which God hath given Me” (Hebrews 2:13). Not one, not even the weakest, will be missing; and He will get all the glory of bringing them there.

But doesn’t Scripture say we may fall from grace? Yes, from grace as a principle of blessing in contrast to the law. The apostle writes to the Galatians this way: “Christ is become of no effect unto you, whosoever of you are justified by the law; ye are fallen from grace” (Galatians 5:4).

Now grace means favor without merit, and when it is God’s grace it is unlimited favor on His side, with no trace of merit on ours. Perhaps there is nothing that God, in His word, has expressed Himself more jealous about than an infringement upon His grace — a setting it aside — a frittering away of its beautiful character by the introduction of some meritorious reason in us why He should bless us.

Take the case of Gehazi, in Elisha’s days. What grace it was, that the commander-in-chief of the forces of Israel’s powerful enemy should have to come to Israel’s prophet for healing and cleansing, and that when his pride was humbled to bow to God’s means of blessing, he should get all he sought for. How that grace becomes doubly magnified when we consider that the very link between him and this blessing was that little Hebrew captive maiden who served in his household. Israel had been robbed of one of her daughters, yet she becomes the link to the needed healing. But there was even more than this. The prophet of Israel’s God wouldn’t receive anything in payment for this blessing. What all of the leper’s possessions — goods and glory — couldn’t have purchased elsewhere, he has free of charge in the land of Israel. What “grace upon grace” it was! Yes, thought Elisha God’s prophet of grace, this Naaman shall return to Syria and say, All this for nothing! and all from the very nation I helped to oppress and plunder! All that I took as a means to the blessing was unnecessary. My royal letter of commendation to the king was of no use. My ten talents of silver, my 6,000 pieces of gold, my ten changes of raiment, have all had to be brought back. Indeed, the only thing I didn’t bring back was my filthy leprosy. This I left in the depths of Jordan’s flood. All this for nothing, how wonderful!

But now notice what follows. Gehazi sets about, immediately, to spoil all this. With ruthless stroke he robs this sweet fruit of heavenly grace of its lovely bloom; and one mean, selfish sentence does it. “Give, I pray thee, a talent of silver, and two changes of garments.” He gives a false impression of his master; he mutilates the testimony of grace; and God marks His displeasure by inflicting, next to death itself, one of the most severe punishments on record. “The leprosy of Naaman shall cleave unto thee and unto thy seed forever.”

The Galatians, in the New Testament, were rebuked more severely than, perhaps, any of the other offending saints to whom epistles were addressed. They had begun with grace, and were going back to merit. “Are ye so foolish?” writes the apostle, “having begun in the Spirit, are ye now made perfect by the flesh?” (Galatians 3:3). It must be grace all through. You cannot mix “law” and “grace.” Sinai will never become a suburb of the Jerusalem which is above. “The son of the bondwoman shall not be heir with the son of the freewoman.”

You cannot begin by standing on the merits of Another and end by standing on your own. You cannot get the blessing through grace and retain it through merit. Take a simple illustration:

A rich merchant chooses to take a homeless, ragged young beggar from the public streets into his own house. He dresses him properly, and makes every effort to make him feel happy and at home in his new circumstances, and he succeeds.

One day the rich merchant is astonished to find this boy in the bottom cellar, with coat off and apron on, busily shining shoes! What are you doing here, my son?

Someone told me, sir, that if I rightly appreciated my new position I must begin to do something in order to be kept here, and that if I failed in this I should one day be turned out of house and home, and again become a miserable street wanderer. I didn’t want this to happen, so I thought I would start and do something as a motive for you to keep me here! Now that boy had fallen from grace, that is, as far as the figure goes. Grace had placed him as a son, without a single claim or merit, in the best place, and he had now got into the lowest cellar and taken the servant’s place in order to retain his valued blessings.

This was what the Galatians were doing. Grace had called them to the highest blessings. Sonship, with the enjoyment of that relationship by “the Spirit of His Son” sent forth into their hearts had been given them, and with it heirship also. And instead of standing fast in the liberty wherewith Christ had made them free, they were seeking perfection in the flesh by being “justified by the law.” (See Galatians 3:3 and Galatians 5:1-4.) In other words, they had “fallen from grace.”

Three motives may be assigned for the performance of good works.

The first is in order to get the blessing.

The second, to retain it when I have got it.

The third (and this is the gospel motive) is to serve, in loving gratitude, the One who died to secure the blessing for me, and who lives to keep me for the blessing.

I once noticed a striking inscription carved on the end of a beautiful row of cottages in Leicestershire. It was to this effect:

For the poor relatives of Thomas C — .

Good behavior alone to entitle possession.

When in possession,

Disorderly behavior to cause instant removal.

Here was an illustration of the first two motives named above, and, thousands are found today either with one or both of these motives.

But what is the motive in such service? It is self. If I am working to get salvation, for whom am I working? For myself.

If I am working to keep it when I have got it, for whom am I working? Obviously for myself!

Then what kind of service ought I to give? “He died for all, that they which live should not henceforth live unto themselves, but unto Him which died for them, and rose again” (2 Corinthians 5:15). And what is the motive for this kind of service? It is love, as the previous verse will show; for “the love of Christ constraineth us.”

One of Her Majesty’s blue-jackets was once asked why he wore so much white cord around his neck. He immediately put his hand into his shirt and pulled out a pocket-knife, which was fastened by this cord. This cord, he said, we call a lanyard. And then, stretching out his arm at full length, he said, You see the cord is long enough for the knife to be used by us when the arm is at full stretch. We blue-jackets sometimes say that we have one hand for Her Majesty and one for ourselves. In rough weather we often have to hold on for dear life to the rigging with one hand; with the other we serve our sovereign.

Now, such may be quite suitable for Her Majesty’s service, but it won’t do for the service of our Master. Yet how many thousands of professing Christians are doing it! That is, they are holding on for salvation, so to speak, with one hand, and serving the Lord with the other. It may be asked, What should it be? Is it not right to hold fast? Yes. But hold fast to what, and why? Hold fast lest we should be lost? No. But, “We receiving a kingdom which cannot be moved, let us have grace, whereby we may serve God acceptably with reverence and godly fear” (Hebrews 12:28).

Be assured of this, that no service is “acceptable” that does not come from a grateful sense of the grace on which I stand. The moment self becomes my motive, it is worthless. I don’t have to hold on for salvation with one hand, and serve Him with the other; but to enjoy the blessed truth that He holds me with both His hands, and loves me with all His heart. Then I can be free to serve Him with both my hands and all my heart. Nor is it a dangerous doctrine, as they suppose who don’t know the constraint of love.

Ask some father whether he would prefer entrusting his helpless child to the mother or to the hired nurse during his month’s absence from home; and he will tell you that the question needs no answering.

But how is this? The mother has no fear of being fired — she is his wife: he doesn’t fear for his baby’s welfare because she is the mother. The hired nurse might fear this, but the mother serves from the instincts, and with the tenderness and untiring patience of a mother’s love. And this makes all the difference. How sad that any should try to reduce Christian service to the restraint and bondage of a hireling!

We say it boldly, You will grieve the Lord’s heart if you do, and rob yourself of one of the greatest privileges your earthly life can have — serving Him in the gratitude of a heart touched by the sense of His own precious grace to you.

I would not work my soul to save —

That work my Lord has done;

But I would work like any slave,

From love to God’s dear Son.

23. I'm a Backslider and I'm Afraid I May Have Committed the Unpardonable Sin.

What is the unpardonable sin? The blessed Lord Himself distinctly answers that question in Mark 3:29-30: “But he that shall blaspheme against the Holy Ghost hath never forgiveness, but is in danger of eternal damnation; because they said, He hath an unclean spirit.”

In Matthew 12:28 the Lord says: “I cast out devils by the Spirit of God.” They said, “This fellow doth not cast out devils, but by Beelzebub the prince of devils” (Matthew 12:24). So that in reality they were calling the Spirit of God the prince of devils! And this was the blasphemy for which there was no forgiveness, ascribing the miracles of Jesus to the agency of the devil.

Now, it is evident that if a man still wants Christ to be his Saviour, whatever his backslidings may have been, he has not committed this sin. How could he want the one he claimed was energized by the power of Satan, as his Saviour? If you knew such a person, you wouldn’t trust him with the charge of your pet for one day, much less trust him with the salvation of your soul for eternity!

But some troubled one may say, I have sinned very deeply, and my course of backsliding has been long and aggravated. We reply, you couldn’t possibly feel this too keenly. Nothing could be more sorrowfully humiliating than such returns for love like His. But even this hasn’t changed His heart. “Having loved His own which were in the world, He loved them unto the end” (John 13:1).

“’Tis this that humbles me with shame,

To find that Thou art still the same.”

We naturally inquire, after doing something, or saying something distasteful to a cherished friend, Whatever will he think of me?

And it is usually the case with a poor backslider. What must the Lord think of me now, he says, when I even condemn and hate myself for my God-dishonoring ways?

Well, He thinks about you as He always thought. “I know the thoughts that I think toward you, saith the Lord, thoughts of peace, and not of evil, to give you an expected end” (Jeremiah 29:11). He knew from the beginning how bad your history would be, yet He gave His precious life-blood to redeem you.

It was in view of all I was, and all that I should turn out to be, that He “loved me, and gave Himself for me.”

24. Then What About My Sins Since I Was Converted?

Remember, that apart from the eternal judgment of the lost, God has only one way of dealing with sin according to His own righteousness, and that is by the sacrifice and death of Jesus. Take a sinning saint — say David, in the Old Testament — and one, like yourself, in the present dispensation. The cross of Christ met every sin for both, or else eternal damnation must be your portion. But in the two cases there is one marked difference. We may put it this way: When Christ hung upon the cross as a sin-bearer, He bore none of David’s sins but his past sins; while He bore none of yours but your future sins. What is meant by this is, that when that Blessed One was actually bearing “our sins in His own body on the tree” (1 Peter 2:24), David’s sins were then all past, and yours were all future. As the little hymn puts it —

God, who knew them, laid them on Him,

And believing, thou art free.

Or, better still, as the Scripture expresses it. (See Isaiah 53:6, margin,) “All we, like sheep, have gone astray; we have turned everyone to his own way; and the Lord hath made the iniquities of us all to meet on Him.” David’s sins, and yours, and mine — the sins of every saved soul in the world’s history — all found a meeting-place there. That cross will attract every redeemed one from every dispensation for eternity! It was love unsearchable that brought Him there; and until sin’s full judgment was endured and exhausted, until that greatest of transactions was completed, and that mightiest of victories won, it was love unquenchable that kept Him there. Blessed Saviour!

What makes our sins after conversion so awful, is the dishonor we bring to such a Name, the grief we cause to such a heart as His.

But He, who thought of and met our case as ruined sinners, has not forgotten to provide for us as ungrateful saints. He who took our place upon the cross and died for us has taken our cause upon the throne and lives for us. “If, when we were enemies, we were reconciled to God by the death of His Son, much more, being reconciled, we shall be saved by His life” (Romans 5:10). That is, we get the divine guarantee, in the words “much more,” of our preservation to the end. Sin ought not to come in, and there is no shadow of excuse for us when it does. “My little children, these things write I unto you, that ye sin not” (1 John 2:1). But there is the gracious provision, notwithstanding, for the very same verse says, “And if any man sin, we have an Advocate with the Father, Jesus Christ the righteous.” It does not say, If any man repent of his sin we have an Advocate. No; repentance and self-judgment, leading to confession, are the results of the Advocate’s service for us. He doesn’t plead because we are made sorry; we are made sorry because He pleads. “I have prayed for thee, that thy faith fail not,” was His gracious word to Peter. He knew that his conduct would fail, but He did not wait until Peter “wept bitterly” before He prayed for him. “I have prayed for thee, that thy faith fail not.” He had once before proved to that then self-confident Peter that He was as able to support a disciple beginning to sink as He was able to attract a disciple beginning to walk; that if Peter took his eye off the Lord, the Lord didn’t take His eye off Peter; and that even his failing to walk by faith should only be the occasion for displaying fresh activities of his Master’s love — His outstretched hand should now be at the service of His faithless servant. “He withdraweth not His eyes from the righteous” (Job 36:7). It is therefore by His prevailing intercession with the Father there, that I am, by the Spirit of God, brought to heart-broken confession here. And “if we confess our sins, He is faithful and just to forgive us our sins, and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness” (1 John 1:9).

You may, therefore, approach the Father with all confidence, and unburden your whole heart before Him; and if you do, be assured that, in faithfulness and justice to Him who bore our sins, and who “ever liveth to make intercession” for us, He will freely pardon. And when He does, such grace will make you increasingly careful so that no false step would again grieve such faithful, unchanging love.

25. If I'm Not One of the Elect I Can't Be Saved, nor Can I Believe Unless God Gives Me the Power.

This is the outcome of one of the most subtle devices of Satan, either to keep awakened souls in misery, or to leave hardened sinners hugging their chains, and blaming God Himself for their remaining in sin and unbelief. The enemy falsifies the truth by misapplying it.

God speaks to a sinner as a sinner, and to a saint as a saint. Man may distort and twist until he brings them together, but God doesn’t.

God has righteous claims on every sinner, and He will never give up those claims. Man is responsible to God, nor can he by any clever device shake himself loose from that responsibility.

Are you a sinner? Then God will have to deal with you on that ground, either in time or in eternity. Think of the messenger of some king or queen visiting a murderer in his cell with an offer of pardon and liberty, and that, instead of gratefully accepting the grace held out to him, he coolly stands parleying with his sovereign’s herald, as to the limits of the royal right to grant pardons or sign death warrants! Among men the very idea would be counted as monstrously audacious; and he would prove himself to be quite the criminal who dared do it! What business is it of his what his sovereign may elect to do, or not do? It is enough for him that he is a criminal, justly condemned to die, and that in honor of a marvelous victory which the Heir to the throne has won, a free pardon has been sent to every prisoner in the jail, himself included.

When at last the day of execution comes, where will he find the person to pity him? He dies with four distinct charges against him:

He has, broken his sovereign’s law by a capital offence.

He has proudly refused repentance and the offered pardon.

In doing so he has refused to unite in honoring the Heir, through whom the pardon was held out.

He has had the audacity to interfere with the rights of the throne, when his own right to live had been criminally forfeited.

Here is a sad but by no means exaggerated picture of many today. Instead of honoring Christ by accepting the offered pardon (for Christ is honored in every soul that is saved), they will stand and coldly discuss the doctrine of God’s electing grace; they are, in reality, taking shelter behind what they profess to know of God’s sovereignty in order to continue a course of hardened iniquity (Matthew 25:24).

Beware! If you are a sinner, God’s sovereign right to elect you for eternal blessing, or to damn you for your sins, is no business of yours. But that the Spirit has written, “All have sinned, and come short of the glory of God;” that “every mouth” must be stopped, and “all the world” pronounced “guilty before God;” that God has commanded “all men everywhere to repent;” and that His servants are now commissioned to go “into all the world, and preach the gospel to every creature,” and that “he that believeth not shall be damned ” — this does concern you. (See also, 1 Timothy 2:4, 2 Peter 3:9.)

Can you say that “all the world” doesn’t take you in? that the expressions “every mouth” of “every creature,” “everywhere,” do not include you? You can’t. But then there is another sentence which fell from the Lord’s own gracious lips, and which concerns Him as well as you. “Him that cometh to Me I will in no wise cast out” (John 6:37).

Now with such scriptures before you, let us earnestly entreat you to leave the doctrine of election with God, and think of His gospel of salvation. No one ever knew he was one of the elect until he was saved. Every saved one is an elected one. As long as you are unsaved, God will speak to you as unsaved, and never in any other way until, as a sinner under responsibility, you have humbled yourself before Him, bowed at the feet of Jesus as your worthy Saviour, and submitted to Him as your rightful Lord.

When the Spirit of God, in the Epistles, addresses the saints (or saved ones), He has a lot to say to them about election. But be sure of this, He will never speak to you as a saint until you are one. It has been well said that election is like a family secret. You aren’t supposed to know it until you are part of the family.

As to the objection, “I can’t believe unless God gives me power”, it must be kept in mind, that while it is the Spirit of God who so sets Christ before us that the confidence of our hearts is drawn out towards Him, and we feel that such a blessed Person we may safely trust, yet that the Spirit doesn’t believe for us; we believe on Christ for ourselves. “With the heart, man believeth unto righteousness; and with the mouth confession is made unto salvation.”

A Word of Counsel

There is one more thing to say to every anxious reader of these brief thoughts; and if it is put last as to position, do not think that I view it as least in importance. It is this: Do not expect to have the comfort of rest and peace in your soul while some old idol remains undisturbed in the secret of your heart — some old habit still indulged in, some worldly association still cultivated or allowed.

To be brought to God is to be brought to a “holy Father.” Jesus our Saviour is the “Holy One and the True,” and the Spirit of God is the “Holy Spirit.” If you would be happy you must be holy. Happiness without holiness is not of heavenly origin, but earthly, sensual, and devilish.

The Apostle could say, “Herein do I exercise myself, to have always a conscience void of offence toward God, and toward men” (Acts 24:16).

May this jealous care be ours.

Should the Lord, in His rich grace, be pleased to use these words for your soul’s blessing, kindly pass it on, and pray that others may find God’s blessing on their souls as well.

George Cutting

Delivered From Doubt