Although the Christian who walks faithfully, clothed with the whole armor of God, enjoys the effect of its use, in the peaceful joy of communion, the difference must have, perhaps, been felt, between this state and the loss of communion, to know the immense importance of this armor, or rather of wearing it. Far better, however, to enjoy the confiding peace, which accompanies its use, than to know its importance by exposing oneself without it to the assaults of the enemy. Communion with God is a real thing, in which He pours into the soul, in a greater or less degree, the deep joy of His presence,—of that favor and perfect love in which He communicates with the soul, revealing Himself,-and gives, by His presence, the happiness of a relationship, in which no breach is suspected, nor thought of, in which the soul lives. It is more than faith, though founded on it; other than the certainty of salvation, though the crown, and seal, and realization of this. The abstract certainty, the consoling certainty, that my Father loves me, and will not, nay, cannot, do otherwise, is another thing than happy intercourse with this love; with no consciousness of anything else, or of anything in the way of that enjoyment. The certainty of love in God constitutes the bitterness of the sense of the loss of the enjoyment of it,—for I speak only of saints here. The Spirit's seal to the truth assures of God's love; and Christ, if we fail, intercedes for us. But the Holy Ghost being the spring of the enjoyment of it in the heart is another thing. The one-the foundation, it is true, of all-assures that God is for us: the other is God in us, filling the heart with joy, with communion with the Father and with His Son Jesus Christ. There are two ways, very distinct indeed in their character, in which I may fail in this communion; one negatively, where negligence has deprived me of positive and sensible intercourse with God—the heart is cold and indifferent; the other, where the conscience is concerned, and, the heart having allowed the enemy to prevail against it, the Holy Ghost becomes in us a stern reprover; and while never destroying the sense of God's love, makes us bitterly bewail the loss of the inward sense and enjoyment of it, and makes us taste, more or less, the fruits of sin, as, in its nature, separating the soul from God; and thus makes it horrible to us, not as feeling with God its evil morally, but as in its nature separating us from Him: not as to faith, indeed, allowing us to suppose that He will give us up at all, but to feel what it is. But this last is an extreme case, and discipline, on God's part, and very severe discipline too. The other, alas! is but too common. They are very different. Many Christians live frequently in a state analogous to the last case I have supposed; but in them it is from being yet under the law, and from their not being established in their relationship with God; and the distress, consequently, is not so great, because there has not been the same nearness to God. I have said these few words as to the result of not using the armor with which God has furnished us. I return to its character and use.
I have spoken somewhat of the loins being girt about with truth, and of the breastplate of righteousness; of the affections being governed and kept in order by the truth; the revelation of Christ, and the walk which flows from this; and godly vigilance of an unassailable conscience. Thus the soul is in practical peace—has not to occupy itself with itself—can walk in unsuspecting openness and confidence. When the heart is full of peace, and enjoys the unsuspecting sweetness of it with God, it walks in the spirit of peace. This peace characterizes all its ways and relationships with others. There is not effort or constraint,—nothing to guard or keep back. The course is natural, unconstrained and unsuspecting.
There is not fear of evil because there is not the consciousness of it. Not that the soul is without wisdom; that cannot be in such a world; but it is wise concerning that which is good, and simple concerning evil. It does not much fear evil befalling it, because it has a portion of peace that outward evil cannot touch; nor does it count on outward good as its resource. In this peace, the heart depends on God and as above evil in this sense, it brings peace with it into the scene through which it passes.
The expression, having the feet shod with it, is beautiful, as showing the habitual character of the walk. Such was the character, especially, of Christ. He brought in peace—rejected, indeed, but not the less true—the great peace-maker. He declared such should be called the children of God. These three first parts of the armor are practically expressed in the words, as far as relationship with the saints goes: "Have salt in yourselves, and be at peace one with another."
Thus governed within, and walking in peace without, the soul is free to trust in God. All three parts of the armor are, indeed, worn together, but there is a moral dependence and order. Internal condition goes before external activity order in the affections and practical righteousness, before the spirit of peace in our ways with others; and both before that confidence in God, which shields from the assaults of the enemy. It is not that the confidence flows from this walk—it is in God only; but it is in this soil that it grows, in this state that it has its free exercise. It. is as important to remark that it does not look back or calculate on any state of the soul, as that that state of the soul is that in which this confidence is found in free exercise. When we enjoy our health, all depends on the state of the body; but because it is in health its energies go out on their just object, and the health is not thought of at all. Faith here is the full confidence in God, which counts on His goodness and faithfulness, and that He is for us,—which trusts a God who is entirely for us. Without this, all is despair, or near to it, in a conscience which feels that it has to do with God. Satan has got in; and to the soul who feels the need of God being for it, there is left only the agonizing feeling that He is not. Hence the Savior prays for Peter, that his faith might not fail; that is, that in spite of his dreadful fall, he might not be left to the thought that therefore God had abandoned him, was against him, and that there was no hope. The fiery darts of Satan are not his efforts to seduce, by acting on our various lusts; but where, by any means, our hearts are turned away from God, the inroads he makes in the form of unbelief and despair. This is the force of the passage in the Corinthians, lest Satan tempt you for your incontinency. The evil was there, the incontinency was supposed, the temptation was the power of Satan over the soul, which was the result. It is, evidently, a different power from his seductions. There is no pleasure in despair, but deep agony. The flesh finds its pleasure in satisfying its lusts, but there is no lust of despair; it is as a consuming fire in the soul.
We may see, in the temptations of Christ, as far as He could be on the same ground as we, this same difference. There could be no lusts and no despair; but Satan sought, at the beginning of His career, to seduce Him from the path of obedience; and brought all the terror of death upon Him at the end. Only in the former case He maintained His first estate; in the second His agony only led Him into more earnest communion with His Father. But He went through, for us, the whole pressure of Satan's power; for us in both respects, only was never reached within by it, so as to turn Him aside from God, in the perfect path of obedience.
The fiery darts of the enemy are the power of the enemy over the soul, when it has been left exposed to his inroads, by the shield of faith (an entire confidence in the grace of God, in His favor, as that in which we dwell, and changes not) having been down.
Such, I doubt not, are his fiery darts; and terrible they are, when, from the shield of faith not having been our safeguard—having been dropped, we are exposed to them. But I would add, that I do not believe that this is ever a simple case: that is, that it happens by itself, without some producing cause. The passage I have alluded to in the Corinthians explains what I mean: Satan tempted, for incontinency, a heart which had opened the door to him, by lust; which had even strayed out, in spirit, into his domains, forsaking God—not in will, perhaps, but in heart—in letting itself loose, exposed itself naturally to his power; particularly in these lusts, which a corrupt will nourishes, which, as the apostle expresses it, war against the soul, and which are so contrary to the very nature of God, to His purity and holiness. Where these are, in any degree, willfully indulged by one who is a Christian, it is well if the result be not this terrible power of Satan over the soul, which for a time at least, darkens the light of God in it, and hides His favor; the knowledge of which only makes the loss of the sense of it more terrible to him who suffers under it: it seems to be gone forever,—at least it may reach this point. At any rate it is the most terrible chastisement which can reach a human heart. If a soul belong to God, it will surely be delivered; but who can say how long it may suffer. The great remedy against such a danger is to have the soul frequently, in a positive way, in God's presence. To walk there constantly is our privilege and supreme joy. But I speak of a positive entering into His presence, who is light, that all may be clear in our conscience, all free in our heart. In a word, that we may not only enjoy blessings from Him, but be, as He graciously permits us, before Him. I have gone through the effect of not having the shield of faith up, and particularly what is the cause of it, as a warning; but the case, blessed be God's grace, is as rare as it is terrible.
But something of an analogous nature takes place, in a different state of soul, as to what is not unfrequently called the fiery darts of the enemy. I refer to those cases where blasphemous and infidel thoughts seem to arise in the mind. They are not desired, not the effect of reasoning, but present themselves unsought, to the great distress of the soul. But this, I believe, happens when the soul is not set free in Christ. When once we are really introduced into the presence of God, in the knowledge of His favor and love, are there before Him, enjoying Himself, Satan cannot get there, cannot thus reach the mind. In the state of despair, spoken of previously, feelings of rebellion against God may and do arise, but these are the working of the mind itself, in the state it is in; whereas the suggestions of which I am now speaking are foreign to every feeling, and every acknowledged thought. But there is not, I believe, the true, personal knowledge of God in grace, though that grace may be admitted as a truth, and as the only ground of hope. These thoughts distress and harass the mind; and persons assaulted by them sometimes draw dismal conclusions as to themselves, as in other such cases they think they have committed the sin against the Holy Ghost. General deliverance, and the true knowledge of God, is to be sought here. The liberty wherewith Christ sets free—for this deliverance is real—brings us, as freed from everything that was against us, to God Himself. In the case, then, of the trying suggestions, of which we now speak, the shield of faith is not dropped; it is not yet up, has not yet been borne up on the arm of faith. The shield of faith, then, is that entire confidence in God, flowing from the real, personal knowledge of redemption, which silences every doubt, and prevents every question, by the personal knowledge of God's love, which instead of having questions with God, reckons upon Him, against everything else. If God be for us, who can be against us? It is not merely peace, as regards evil, through the blood of Christ, but confidence in God, resulting from His being thus known. If I have found grace in thy sight, O Lord, says Moses, let my Lord now go with us, for it is a stiffnecked people. God is our resource and help against ourselves, our security against all else. Satan may prove a thousand things against us; our knowledge of God is the answer to them all.
Entire, unwavering confidence in God Himself is the spring, then, and source of energy; the efforts of Satan to break and enfeeble it are quenched by the shield of faith. Maintained practically in its place by walking with God, it rests in itself on the true divinely given knowledge of God, as for us, as He has revealed Himself in Christ; a knowledge sustained and fed by the grace and intercession of Jesus.
But there is a further development of this condition of soul, closely allied to it, yet different,—the knowledge of and possession of salvation. The difference is this: it is not abiding confidence in what God is, but the joyful certainty of what He has done, the consciousness of the position He has set us in.
Confidence is dependence, a blessed, right, and softening feeling; though emboldening in what is right, and as against the enemies of our souls. Salvation gives boldness and energy: we hold up the head, so to speak, a head covered by the strength and salvation of God Himself. Would to God, says Paul, that not only thou, but all that hear me, were not only almost, but altogether, such as I am save these bonds. Was he—after two years imprisonment and wrong, in the presence of judges, as a chained prisoner, without resource save in God—was he disheartened or fearful in spirit? The helmet of a known salvation was on his head. Yet (to be possessed in glory) all was his in Christ, all was his in his own soul. He was what the love that was in his heart could wish others to be; the consciousness that it was his, animated the love which expressed itself towards others,—gave it its object in its own happiness. His relationship to God was known; his being in the light as God was in the light, in the blessed joy of holiness, sin and evil and all confusion outside; Jesus’ glory complete; the Father's love unhindered by anything in the state of the object is rested on. This secured by the cross, so that it could fully flow in now; the possession of Jesus’ love, in whom it was all secured. Salvation was a helmet to his head; he could lift it up before all. Nor is it less such to us in the day of battle: we have not to think about ourselves; that is secured, for that helmet is riven by no blow: we are free to use our wisdom and strength undisturbed by any fear for self in the conflict in which we are set. We can seek victory and blessing for others, glory for the Lord, success before Him. He has thought of us and put us into the place where we are, and have more than man's heart knows how to desire. And secure in it we can think of serving Him. Evidently this, as all else, must be realized by the ungrieved power of the Holy Ghost, to use and walk in it.
In all these parts of the armor we have found what relates to our own standing, our enjoyment, in governed affections and godliness, of our blessed relationship with God which is given us in the new position which the second Adam has, and which we have in and by and ever with Him. This is our security, our defense, in the conflict. Thus nothing separates us from the love of God which is in Christ Jesus our Lord. But there is active energy, arms which we wield in the power of the Spirit of God, which silences flesh, and baffles the power of Satan, and controls those who are under his power. When fully in the power of our relationship with God we can take the sword of the Spirit, which is His word. If the soul be not in communion with God it cannot wield His word in His name. It is not a carnal weapon to be used with carnal force or wisdom. It is the Spirit's sword: sharp, reaching the conscience, and of the most hardened where rightly applied, and bowing and subduing the most haughty. But if the soul be not with God there is not the thought of the right passage, nor the power of God with it. It is not spoken of here, mark, as the means of edification—it is not a sword there—but of conflict. The weapons of our warfare are spiritual, to the pulling down of strongholds. The word of God in conflict, when spiritually used, carries light with it to the soul, as to our whole position in conflict—the light of God's mind on the whole scene and question before us—which inspires a confidence, of which he who has it not has no idea. Satan's object is to deceive; the conscious possession of the divine mind only makes the discovered deception an element of strength, in the knowledge of whom we have to do with, and of God's being in the light thrown upon his wiles. It detects and judges them appositely; and a deception laid bare is a victory over the wiles to which no answer can be found. See the Lord's use of scripture, as an example—ever matchless—of this weapon. How were His adversaries put to silence, no man daring to put to Him any more questions. How was Satan himself reduced to leave one whom he could not touch. For this weapon repels all the attacks of Satan, as it confounds, by its power, all the force and wiles of the enemy. We have no other weapon; we must have skill to use it, which no practice but the power of present grace alone can give; but it is the weapon of God's own mind, and light, and truth, in the midst of the darkness by which Satan would overcloud man's mind. An arm of a peculiar and distinct character closes the list, showing how all are used in entire and constant dependence. The first parts of the armor, we have seen, are defensive, those which hinder Satan from touching us, connected with the judgment of self and godliness: after these the active energy of the word of God, the sword of the Spirit; but the Holy Ghost, which alone can enable us to use the word, cannot do so by putting us in a position of independence; it is contrary to His nature and service, and to the moral effect of His presence with us. He puts our souls into connection with, and dependence on, the source of all power and grace. He cannot be separated from those in whose name He acts, from whom He comes forth, and by His very presence He puts us in communion with, and dependence on, them. It is thus it is said of Him, " He shall not speak of' Himself," that is, unconnected with the Father and the Son, as it is said, Sayest thou this of thyself? as an isolated spirit might say things of' which himself was the source. But there is more than this, because the Holy Ghost acts in us morally, and makes us feel, as new creatures, our entire, and I may add, glad, dependence, on so blessed a source of activity and power, as God Himself. We know we are so. It is a creature's place: it is a godly creature's place, and his willing place; for the heart, led by the Holy Ghost, is rejoiced to receive all from God, as it knows, also, it can receive nowhere else what is good. But this is exercised in confidence; we ask, we express our dependence; we supplicate, both in the sense of need, and in the earnestness of desire for the accomplishment of what we are thus enabled to succeed in or obtain for others. The mind, though in dependence, is brought into the channel of God's desires and blessing, by the operation of the Holy Ghost-given a share in this energy of divine working, though in the sense of entire dependence on God. God meets, answers, shows His concurrence in what He has put into our hearts by the Holy Ghost. We are occupied with what He works in, and works with, and for us. Not only are our desires accomplished, but we have the consciousness of God's concurrence in them, and that we stand, on His part, in our conflicts and service, while we have the joy of everything being His. Nor is this all; it is not only our own part in this divine conflict that occupies; love to others, those without that are His, and united thus indeed to us, acts in the grace of intercession.
Everything is found, in this (seemingly, to human judgment, so feeble) instrument, above all precious, because it is an unseen one. Need is there, earnest desire of others, good in love is there; desire for God's glory, confidence in His love, in His word, dependence on Him, reality of intercourse with Him; while, as a consequence, every inconsistency is brought to light in the heart by this nearness, not only as respects holiness, but as it touches confidence in this nearness. Besides this, there is a close linking of all the whole body together, in its dependence on the bead. What a place is this to use the given sword of God; His own thoughts in power, and to be with Himself in confidence for every answer of His love and strength. It will be remarked that it is on every occasion-always. This is one mark of our living in this state of communion, that the heart turns at once, naturally, there. It does not set about to consider, when something arises, but to pray. God's answer surely comes. Next, remark, it is in Spirit, that is, in the power of the Holy Ghost working, in our communion with God. But another element is put before us here; the active exercise of a vigilant mind, so that all turns to prayer, and that we observe that as to which we have to pray. There is the active interest of love, which is awake and alive, does not sleep over the interests of the Church of God, over the holiness and communion of the saints—cannot if we are near to God. For there is an active, living energy of love, which; in the desire of the blessing of the saints, thus draws near to God. This gives perseverance and earnestness; for whatever our confidence in the love of God, affection is earnest and persevering; and here, above all, it is that divine affections, our personal participation through grace in the interest God takes in blessing, are brought out. Here, as elsewhere, the apostle therefore brings in all saints. (Compare 1:15; 3:18.) The apostle knew what it was, as all abundantly testifies, and he knew its value. It is a privilege of all saints on which an apostle himself is dependent. All have not distinguished gifts, but all have the privilege of drawing near to God as child and priest. (See 2 Cor. 1:1111Ye also helping together by prayer for us, that for the gift bestowed upon us by the means of many persons thanks may be given by many on our behalf. (2 Corinthians 1:11).) Divine power in us is the fruit of dependence on Him who gives it. The Armor of God, then, begins with all being inwardly right in affection; then in practice; then peacefulness of walk; and so it is, for sin is restless, and impatient; then security, by unfailing confidence, from Satan's attacks, the joy and power of salvation before God; and finally, the active energy in which we can use the word in all; and behind all dependence exercised in prayer.
(Continued)