The Work of God in the Soul: Part 4

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Fob further illustration of our theme, we may refer, for a moment, to the case of Peter, at the lake of Gennesaret, as recorded in the opening paragraph of the fifth of Luke. He, too, like the prophet Isaiah, was made to feel his need—his deep, deep need. The same convicting light which had entered the soul of the prophet, here penetrates the heart of the future apostle, and elicits those earnest words, " Depart from me; for I am a sinful man, Ο Lord."
Here we have the need created, the sense of guilt produced. But mark, in passing, the strange yet lovely inconsistency! Peter has not the least idea of making his escape from the light which had shone upon him; nay, he actually draws nearer and nearer to it. He felt he had no right to be there, and yet he would not, for worlds, be anywhere else. And why? Because, mingled with that powerful convicting light, there was the equally powerful converting grace which irresistibly drew the heart of the " sinful man" toward itself. " Grace and truth came by Jesus Christ." " And we beheld his glory, the glory as of the only begotten of the Father, full of grace and truth." (John 1) What could be more suited to a man full of sin, than a Savior full of grace? Surely nothing and no one; for albeit that blessed Savior was full of truth likewise—and truth puts everything and every one in the right place—yet the grace was amply sufficient to meet all the need which the truth revealed; and hence, although the poor convicted sinner" cries out, "Depart from me, for I am a sinful man, Ο Lord," he nevertheless feels that the only place for him is " at Jesus' knees."
Now, we may remark, here, that it is ever thus, hi cases of true conviction. In every instance in winch the genuine work of God's Spirit is wrought in the soul, we notice more or less of what we have ventured to designate this strange vet lovely inconsistency—this seeming contradiction—the striking phenomenon of a sinner confessing his utter unfitness to be in the presence of a holy God, and yet having a certain inward consciousness that it is the only place he can be in.
This is very beautiful, and touchingly interesting. It is the sure evidence of the work of God in the soul. There is the profound sense of sinfulness and guilt, and yet that marvelous and mysterious clinging of the heart to the One whose moral glory has humbled us in the dust. " Depart from me; for I am a sinful man, Ο Lord." But where were these glowing words uttered? At the knees of a Savior-God. Blessed place! Did Peter imagine that Jesus was going to depart from him? Did he really think that the gracious One who had deigned to make use of his ship, and then given him such a miraculous draft of fish, would leave him in the depth of his misery? We do not and cannot believe it. Ah! no; the Spirit of God, in His most precious operations in the soul, always combines these two elements, namely, the consciousness of utter un-worthiness, and an earnest clinging to, and breathing after Christ. The former is conviction; the latter conversion. By that, the furrow is made; by this, the seed deposited. In short, it is the need created, and the object revealed. The two things go together. As in the case of Isaiah, " Woe is me! "is instantly followed by " This hath touched thy lips;" so in the case of Peter, "Depart from me" is followed by the gracious words, " Fear not."
This is divine. The object revealed is perfectly adequate to meet the need created. It must be so, because the creation of the need, and the unfolding of the object, are both operations of one and the selfsame Spirit. And not only so, but the object so unfolded is found to be adequate to meet all the claims of God Himself, and therefore it must be adequate to meet all the claims of the convicted and exercised soul. If God is satisfied with the Person and work of Christ, we may well be so likewise. How did Isaiah learn that he was undone? By light from on high. How did he learn that his sin was purged? By grace from on high. The selfsame revelation that showed him Ms guilt showed him also that his guilt was gone. He rested upon the testimony of God, and not upon Ms own feelings, frames, or notions. If at the close of the sublime scene recorded in chapter vi., any one had asked Isaiah, " How do you know that your sin is purged?" what would have been his reply? Would he have said, " I feel it is so?" We believe not. We are persuaded that this man of God rested upon something for better, far deeper, far more solid, than any mere feeling of Ms own mind. Doubtless he did feel. But why? Just because he did not make feeling the ground of his faith, but faith the ground of Ms feeling, and divine revelation the ground of Ms faith.
Such is the divine order, an order, alas! so constantly reversed, to the serious damage of souls, the subversion of their peace, and the dishonor of their Lord. When we turn to scripture—when we examine the various cases which it records for our learning, we invariably find the order to be, first, the word; secondly, faith; thirdly, feeling. On the other hand, when we turn to the history of souls, now-a-days, when we examine their exercises and experiences, we constantly find that they begin with their feelings, and, as a consequence, they rarely enjoy a right sense of the nature and foundation of true christian faith.
All this is greatly to be deplored. It claims the earnest attention of those who take an interest in souls, and are called to watch the progress of the work of God therein. It is of the very last importance to lead all exercised souls to the sure foundation of holy scripture, and to teach them that faith is simply taking God at His word; it is believing what He says, not because we feel it, but because He says it. To believe because we feel, would not be faith in God's word at all, but faith in our own feelings, which is a worthless faith that will not stand for a moment in the presence of the enemy. The word of God is settled forever in heaven. " He has magnified his word above all Ids name." This is the solid foundation of christian faith. True, it is by the Holy Ghost that the soul is led to rest on this foundation; but the foundation is scripture, and scripture alone. It is not feelings, frames, or experiences, but the plain testimony of holy scripture. " Christ died for our sins, according to the scriptures; he was buried, and rose again the third day, according to the scriptures." Here lies the true foundation of christian faith—yea, of faith in all ages. Abraham believed God, and thus he found rest for his soul. So with Isaiah, so with Peter, so with all. Patriarchs, prophets, apostles, and saints of every age, every condition, and every clime rested upon the stable rock of divine revelation; and if the reader will only do the same, he will possess a peace which no power of earth or hell can ever disturb.
But we must draw this series of papers to a close, and this we shall do by a very brief reference, in the third and last place, to
THE OBJECT LAID HOLD OF.
We may be all the more brief on this point, as a good deal has already been said which, to a certain extent, bears upon it. But we would specially call attention to the practical results which are sure to follow, in some degree, hi every case in which the soul lays hold of Christ. Our two examples, Isaiah and Peter, will serve us here as well as in the other branches of our subject.
No sooner was Isaiah's need met—his guilt purged, than we see in him a whole-hearted consecration of himself to God and His service which may well stir the very depths of the soul, and humble us too at the thought of how little we imitate him therein. No sooner does he hear that Jehovah wants a messenger, than the ready response comes forth from his heart and expresses itself in those ardent accents, "Here am I; send me." He was ready now to go forth in service to the One who had made Mm see his own ruin, and revealed also the divine remedy. The order is perfectly beautiful. We have, first, " Woe is me:" secondly, " This hath touched thy lips;" and, thirdly, " Here am I."
So also, in Peter's case, we have precisely the same lovely moral order, his "Depart from me" is followed by Christ's " Fear not." And then the practical result follows, "He forsook all, and followed him." This, truly, was a laying hold of the object. Peter evidently felt at this moment that Christ was worthy of all he was and all he had. In the early bloom of divine life in his soul, all was readily let go, secular occupations, however right in themselves, natural ties, however important, are all surrendered for the one absorbing object which had been revealed to, and laid hold of by, his new-born and emancipated soul. Christ was more to Peter than boats and nets, father and mother, sisters and brothers.
He forsook all. Nor was it difficult, in the verdure and freshness of first love, to let go those natural ties and occupations. The difficulty, at such a seraphic moment, would be to retain them, or cling to them. Alas! that we should ever have been called to hear from Peter's lips such words as these, " I go a fishing;" and that too after three years of marvelous companionship with that blessed One who had once commanded his whole moral being, and drawn him off from all earthly cares and natural relationships.
But we shall not, now, dwell upon this painful and humbling theme. We shall think of Peter at the lake of Gennesaret; we shall dwell upon the moments of his first love—those charming moments when Peter could, without reserve, say, " Jesus, my all in all thou art." This is what we all want to look to. We want to understand the real secret—the mighty moral power—the true motive spring of all genuine devotedness and personal consecration. We want to bend our whole attention to this question, " How can I be most effectually drawn off from all those things which so readily and powerfully attract this vagrant volatile heart of mine?" What is the answer? Simply this—" Keep the heart fixed on Christ, filled with Christ, dedicated to Christ. Nothing else will do. Rules and regulations will not do; vows and resolutions will not avail. It must be ' The expulsive power of a new affection.'"
This is the grand desideratum—the special lack of our souls—the only effectual preservative against the ten thousand fascinations and allurements of the scene through which we are passing. The moment we begin to ask, " What harm is there in this or that?" it is all up with personal devotedness. Decline has set in, our hearts have got away from Christ. Peter, at the lake of Gennesaret, never thought of asking " What harm is there in fishing? What sin is there in boats and nets? Why should I not tarry with my father and friends?" There was no harm in fishing, nothing sinful in boats and nets, looked at in themselves. But why did Peter give them up? Because he was called to something better. He abandoned the inferior because he had laid hold of the superior. And we may rest assured of this that if ever Peter returned to the inferior again, it was only because the superior had, for the moment, lost its power over his heart.
But here we must pause. We had no intention of dwelling at such length upon the subject of " The work of God in the soul;" but we have found it intensely interesting, and we fondly hope it has not been wholly without profit to the reader.