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Overdenking & Bezinning

Riches from Philpot — Part 6 (continued): The Veil Is Taken Away

J.C. PhilpotOverdenking & Bezinning

34 min. read

NLEN

The veil is taken away!

“For being ignorant of God’s righteousness, and seeking to establish their own righteousness, they didn’t subject themselves to the righteousness of God.” Romans 10:3

What a motley monster is man in his natural state—full of evil—continually committing sin—daring God to His face by a thousand crimes—and yet setting up his own righteousness! We might just as well expect that a felon in prison, who is there awaiting in the condemned cell the merited punishment of his aggravated crimes—of his murders, robberies, and continued outrage against all human laws—should hope to come out of prison by his good deeds and obedience to the laws of his country—as expect such a vile wretch as man to hope to climb up to heaven by the ladder of his—good words—good thoughts—good works—and good intentions.

Self-righteousness in all its forms is so interlaced with every thought of our heart, so intertwined with every fiber of our natural mind, that though we know ourselves to be sinners, yet self-applause and self-complacency bid us do something to gain God’s favor! O, in what a sunken state man is! We never can abase man too much. O, the gulf of misery and ruin into which he has fallen! O, the depths of depravity into which he has been hurled! O, the bottomless abyss of destruction and guilt into which, when Adam fell, he cast himself and all his race!

But though so awful is man’s state, yet, “the veil” upon his heart prevents him from seeing the depths of his own fall. This is one of the worst features of man’s ruin—that it is hidden from him—and that he knows nothing of it until, through a miracle of grace, he is plucked out of the pit of horror, and saved from going down to the abyss of hell, with all his sins and crimes upon his head! Ministers, therefore, can never abase man too much, nor point out too clearly the awful abyss of ruin and degradation into which he has fallen. But “the veil” on man’s heart hides from him his own ruin! And until the veil in a measure is removed—he never knows, never sees, never feels one truth aright.

Two grand lessons

There are two grand lessons to be learned in the school of Christ, and all divine teaching is comprehended and summed up in them. One is to learn by the Spirit’s teaching, what WE are by nature—so as to see and feel the utter ruin and thorough wreck of self, and the complete beggary, weakness, and helplessness of the creature in the things of God. This is the first grand branch of divine teaching. And we have to learn this lesson day by day—line upon line, line upon line—here a little, and there a little. Through this branch of divine teaching we have almost daily to wade, and sometimes to sink into very painful depths under a sense of our depraved nature.

And the other grand branch of divine teaching is to know who JESUS is, and to know what He is to us—to know the efficacy of His atoning blood to purge the guilty conscience—the power of His justifying righteousness to acquit and absolve from all sin—the mystery of His dying love to break down the hardness of our heart, and raise up a measure of love towards Him—and to see, by the eye of faith, His holy walk and suffering image, so as to be in some measure conformed to Him, and have His likeness in some measure stamped upon our souls.

By these two branches of divine teaching does the Spirit make and keep the children of God humble. And all our various providences, trials, temptations, and deliverances—all we pass through in nature, and all we pass through in grace—in a word, the whole course of circumstances by which the child of God finds himself surrounded—all tend to lead him into these two paths—either into a deeper knowledge of himself, or a deeper knowledge of Christ—in order to humble him, and exalt the Lord of life and glory. To this point all the dealings of the Spirit tend, and in this channel all the teachings of the Spirit run. And every teaching and every experience that does not run in this channel, and does not tend to this point—to abase us, and to bring us down to the dust; and at the same time exalt the Lord of life and glory, and put the crown on his blessed head—does not spring from the teachings of God the Spirit in the heart—for His covenant office is, to take of the things of Christ, and make them known to the soul, so as to exalt and glorify Jesus.

That idol, religious self

To have nothing and to be nothing but a beggar and a pauper—how this crushes human pride! We must have nothing in self to rest and hang upon. But the truth is, that until self is dethroned—until creature righteousness, creature piety, creature exertions, and creature strength are brought to nothing, we do not enter into the power, blessedness, and reality of Christ’s kingdom—we are not fit guests to sit down at the marriage supper of the Lamb. We cannot enter into the treasures of pardoning love—see the riches of atoning blood—and feel the glory and beauty of justifying righteousness—until that idol, religious self, is hurled from its pedestal!

While full of pride and self, we cannot follow Jesus into the garden of Gethsemane—nor see, by the eye of faith, the suffering, groaning, agonizing, bleeding Son of God—we cannot take our station at the foot of the cross, and behold the wondrous mystery of Immanuel, the God-Man, bleeding and dying there. While we are engaged in looking at our own pharisaic religion, our own piety, our own exertions, our own doings—we have no eyes to see Jesus, no ear to hear His voice. We are so enamored with ourselves that the King of kings has no beauty in our eyes—He is to us as a root out of a dry ground, and there is no loveliness in Him that we should desire Him.

But when we begin to see the ugliness, the depravity, the dreadful workings of self—we see how impossible it is that self can ever stand before God. And when we feel the ruin of self, then we begin to feel what a glorious salvation has been accomplished, according to the counsel and mind of God. We then see the Lord of life and glory stooping down to save wretches who could never climb up to Him—pardoning criminals that have no righteousness of their own—and opening up the treasures of His dying love and risen glory to those who without Him, must utterly perish.

As this is revealed to faith, faith embraces it as the great “mystery of godliness”; hope casts out her anchor, and enters within the veil; and love flows out to Jesus, and embraces Him in the arms of affection, for such dying love as that which the Son of God manifested on the cross of Calvary.

Now this experience puts the sinner in his right place—it debases him in his feelings—humbles him in his soul—and breaks him to nothing. And at the same time, it exalts the Lord Jesus in his affections—and He becomes manifestly in his conscience as his all in all.

The furnace of affliction

“Behold, I have refined you, but not as silver; I have chosen you in the furnace of affliction.” Isaiah 48:10

From time to time God puts His people in severe situations and trying circumstances—so that they have no one else to look unto. They have no other help, shelter, or refuge—but out of sheer necessity are obliged to cast their souls on Him who is able to save. The Lord has chosen His people in the furnace of affliction. And O, how real affliction deadens us to everything else! When there is no affliction, the “world” dances before us with a sunbeam upon it—attractive, dazzling, and beautiful—and we, in our carnal minds, can fly from flower to flower as a butterfly in the sun. Our religion is at a very low ebb when this is the case—there may be a decent profession—but as to any life and power, how little is there except when affliction presses the soul down! We can do without Jesus very well when the world smiles, and carnal things are uppermost in our heart. But let affliction come—a heavy cross, a burden to weigh us down—then we drop into the place where the Lord Jesus Christ alone is to be found. When the soul gets pressed down into the valley of affliction, the Lord is pleased to meet with it there!

Temptation

“The Lord knows how to deliver the godly out of temptation.” 2 Peter 2:9

O, how continually is the poor child of God tempted! And what strong temptations! How painful! How powerful! How distracting! How entangling! How harassing! How bewitching! How Satanic is the black devil! How much more Satanic is the white devil! How continually is the child of God exercised with temptation! Temptations—so suitable—so powerful—so overpowering—that nothing but the grace of God can ever subdue the temptation, or deliver the soul out of it!

He fell through the sieve!

“Simon, Simon, behold, Satan has desired to have you, that he may sift you as wheat. But I have prayed for you, that your faith fail not.” Luke 22:31, 32

The Lord did not pray for Judas—he was the son of perdition—and therefore he fell through the sieve, and fell into hell—where he now is—and where he will be to all eternity! And you and I would surely fall through too, unless we have a saving interest in the love and blood of the Lamb. You may escape for a time—but if you have no part in His atoning blood and grace—if He is not pleading for you—sooner or later you will fall through the sieve and will drop into hell—and that perhaps speedily!

Lean, barren, dead & unprofitable

“For the love of money is a root of all kinds of evil. Some have been led astray from the faith in their greed, and have pierced themselves through with many sorrows.” 1 Timothy 6:10

Who that has eyes to see, has not seen this plainly again and again? There shall be a member of a church, and he shall be, while in poor circumstances—a humble, contrite, broken-hearted character. His conversation shall be savory, sweet, and profitable—and receiving many marks of God’s favor, mercy, and love. But he shall have money left to him—or business shall prosper—or he shall marry a rich wife. And what is the effect? He becomes lean, barren, dead and unprofitable—and instead of his conversation being as before—savory and sweet, and upon the things of God—the world, and the things of the world, seem to eat up every green thing in his soul.

And is not this a painful operation?

“Every branch that bears fruit, He prunes, that it may bear more fruit.” John 15:2

What are we by nature? Are we not closely riveted and glued—to the world—to the things of time and sense—to our own righteousness—to all that God hates with complete hatred? Must not the sharp sword of God’s Word cut asunder this close union—with the world—with the things of time and sense—with our own righteousness? Surely! Before we can be brought into any vital union with Christ, or any spiritual communion with His most gracious Majesty—the keen knife must pass between—us and self—us and our own righteousness—us and our own fleshly obedience—and thus separate us from these things. And is not this a painful operation? Can the keen knife pass between—us and the world—us and our fleshly obedience—us and our own righteousness—us and that idol self which we so dearly love and pay such devout worship to—without leaving marks and scars upon our flesh—or without causing some grievous and acute sensations? It cannot! And those who have experienced these things know it cannot.

But how indispensable, how utterly indispensable, is this operation in the hands of the Spirit—to cut us off from self—that we may have living union with the Lord Jesus Christ. For Christ and self can never unite. Christ’s righteousness—and our own righteousness; the love of God—and the love of the world; the worshiping of Jesus—and the worshiping of idols; admiring of ourselves—and admiring of Him; can never sit upon the same throne! Self must be laid in ruins before Jesus can be set up effectually in the heart. There must be a divorce from everything that nature cleaves to, before a living union with the Lord Jesus Christ can be brought about.

This is the reason why the Lord’s people pass through such severe exercises, perplexities, conflicts, trials, powerful temptations, varied feelings, deep afflictions—to uproot them—to cut them wholly off and out of self—that they may be brought by divine faith to have a vital union with the Lord Jesus Christ. When Jesus comes into the heart, He comes as King! Being therefore, its rightful Sovereign, He sways the faculties of the soul, and makes it obedient to His scepter. O Lord our God, other masters have ruled us—but we worship You alone.

If Christ abides in us, there will be some marks and fruits flowing out of that abiding. There will be some outward, as well as inward evidences, that we are of another spirit from those dead in sins, or dead in mere profession. There will be humility, sincerity, godly simplicity, filial fear, deadness to the world, separation from evil, lowly thoughts of ourselves, brokenness of heart, contrition of spirit, tenderness of conscience, a fleeing from all things here below to make our sweet abode in the bosom of a risen Lord. Can we find these things going on in our souls? If not, we may call ourselves Christians—but we have little evidence that we are worthy of the name!

Earthly, sensual, devilish

“This wisdom descends not from above, but is earthly, sensual, devilish.” James 3:15

James is here contrasting the wisdom which comes from God, with the wisdom which comes from man. What is the decisive stamp which this great Apostle puts upon all human wisdom? He writes upon it three epithets as its distinctive marks—and thus condemns it to the lowest depth of abasement.

First, then, this wisdom which springs from the creature and the flesh has its origin in the EARTH—and above that earth whence it has its source, it can never rise. It must always, therefore, being earth-born, grovel on the ground—out of the earth it grows—and it can never rise above the mists and fogs which cover its native soil.

Secondly, it is “SENSUAL,” or “natural” as we read in the margin. Thus, it is a wisdom adapted to our fallen nature—a wisdom which addresses itself entirely to our senses. It knows nothing of God—nothing of heavenly things—nothing of eternal realities—nothing of supernatural and revealed truth—but flows out of and is adapted to reason and sense, knowing only such objects as eye, ear, touch, taste, and smell are cognizant of, and conversant with. It is a wisdom, therefore, which begins in self—and ends in self—and never rises beyond the fallen nature of ruined man.

And thirdly, comes that word which debases and degrades all human wisdom, in the matter of salvation—to the lowest hell. By one word he puts upon it a fatal stamp, as though he would entirely reprobate it—“DEVILISH.” It seems as though he would say, “Man, with all his boasted wisdom, is even exceeded by devils in that matter. The fallen spirits, those enemies of God, who are waging eternal war against God and His dear Son, are the parents of that wisdom which is earthly and sensual—and thus are stamped upon it the very features of hell.”

But bear in mind, that these epithets are applicable to human wisdom—only so far as it interferes with divine matters. In its own province, human wisdom is useful and necessary. It is only when it intrudes itself into divine things, and makes a bold entry into the sanctuary, bringing down sacred and heavenly realities to its own level—that it is to be condemned. It is because he saw that the carrying of natural wisdom into divine things that he condemned its origin as earthly—its nature as sensual—its end as devilish!

Man, then, in a state of nature, has not a grain of heavenly wisdom. He knows nothing experimentally of—the way of salvation—his own ruin and misery—the grace of God—the Person and operations of the Comforter—of His leadings, guidings, teachings, anointings. He may indeed possess a large amount of earthly wisdom—and if a professor of religion, he may carry it up to the greatest height in the ‘letter of truth’—he may be wise in the Scriptures—wise in the plan of salvation—wise in comparing text with text, Scripture with Scripture, and passage with passage—but unless a measure of divine wisdom has dropped into his heart from the mouth of God, he has at present nothing but that wisdom which is “earthly, sensual, and devilish.”

Divine eye-salve

“Anoint your eyes with eye-salve, that you may see.” Revelation 3:18

We know nothing except by divine teaching. This leads us to the throne of grace to beg of the Lord to teach us and show us what we are—take the veil off our heart—and discover to us our real state. Divine light in a man’s conscience will teach him what he is—and divine life in a man’s soul will make him feel what he is. When he has not God’s light—he is dark. When he has not God’s teachings—he is ignorant. When he has not God’s wisdom—he is all folly. When he has not God’s guidance—he goes astray. When he has not God’s upholding—he falls. When he has not God’s preserving—he turns aside into the paths of crookedness and error. We cannot see ourselves—we cannot see others—we cannot see truth—we cannot see Jesus, in His justifying righteousness—atoning blood—dying love—except so far as the blessed Spirit anoints our eyes with eye-salve that we may see!

Where are they?

“Preserved in Jesus Christ.” Jude 1

Oh, it is a mercy to endure! When we look around, and see those who started with us in the Christian race—where are they? Some have gone into the world. Others have fallen into sin. Others have drunk down deadly draughts of heresy and error. But if we endure for a single year, or a single day—it is only by the grace of God! He who has begun the work of grace in the souls of His people will carry it on, and will make them endure—that He may crown His grace with eternal glory.

Mark the contrast!

“But I am poor and needy.” Psalm 40:17

What an honest confession! How suitable to the experience of every God-taught soul! Let us contrast this humble confession with the boast that fell from the lips of the Laodicean church—I am rich, and increased with goods, and have need of nothing! Mark the contrast! The dead, carnal, lifeless professor, boasting—I am rich, and increased with goods, and have need of nothing! The exercised, tried, tempted child of God, confessing, “But I am poor and needy.” The one, full of pride, and glorying in self! The other, broken, humble, contrite, and laid low at the footstool of mercy!

He cannot see, nor know, nor feel

If we take the Scriptures as our authority, in what a fearful state is mankind at large! O, how awfully fallen—O, how deeply sunk, man is! And yet one feature of man’s ruined state is his complete ignorance of the depths of the fall. Though the sinful child of a sinful parent—though under the curse of an avenging law—though an enemy to God and godliness—though passing rapidly down the broad road that leads to eternal destruction—he knows it not! The veil of ignorance and blindness is upon his heart, and he is, as the Scripture speaks, “alienated from the life of God through the ignorance that is in him.” God has poured upon him the spirit of slumber—therefore, he cannot see, nor know, nor feel who he is—nor what he is—nor where he is going! Language cannot describe the awful state in which man is.

But, through mercy, infinite mercy—there is “a remnant according to the election of grace,” who are made deeply and sensibly to see, to know, and to feel their ruined and lost condition—into whose hearts the blessed Spirit puts a sigh and cry that they may know God’s great salvation—and whom the same blessed Spirit, who first convinced them of their ruined state and implanted that cry in their souls, eventually brings to a happy enjoyment of the salvation which is in Christ Jesus. It is the Holy Spirit, and He alone—who makes us feel our guilty, lost, and undone condition. It is He, and He alone—who wounds and pierces our heart with conviction—who opens up the depths of the fall—brings to light the evils of our nature—and makes us sigh and lament beneath the load of guilt upon the conscience—and gives us not only to feel the burden of sin, but puts into our hearts a groan and a cry after God’s salvation to be made manifest to our heart. It is He, and He alone—who unfolds to our eyes who the Lord is—who reveals Christ in the heart, who sprinkles His blood upon the conscience—who manifests His justifying righteousness—who gives us eyes to see His glorious Person—and sheds abroad His dying love in the soul.

Take a glance

As we take a glance at the suffering and dying Lamb of God, how it shows us the awful and abominable nature of sin! When we can see the Son of God, by the eye of faith, coming down into this lower world, taking our nature into union with His own divine Person—when, by faith, we can accompany the Man of Sorrows into the gloomy garden of Gethsemane—or behold Him groaning, bleeding, and dying on the cross—an object of ignominy and shame—and believe that in this way, and this alone, salvation could be wrought out—O, what a view it gives us of the demerit and awful nature of sin—that nothing short of the incarnation of God’s only begotten Son—nothing short of such a tremendous sacrifice could put away sin—and bring the elect back unto God!

A believing sight of the Lord Jesus hanging upon Calvary’s tree, not only on the one hand shows us the awful nature of sin—but on the other, how full, how complete, how glorious, and how effectual must that salvation be of which the expiring Son of God could say, “It is finished!”

Snares, traps, baits

The Lord’s people are, from time to time, deeply exercised with the power of sin. They find such ungodly lusts—they feel such horrid evils—the corruptions of their hearts are laid so naked and bare—and they find in themselves such a reckless propensity to all wickedness—they feel sin so strong—and themselves so weak! O how many of the Lord’s people are tempted with sin morning, noon, and night! How many evils, horrid evils, are opening, as it were, their jaws to wholly swallow them up! Wherever they go, wherever they turn, snares, traps, baits seem lying on every side—strewed thickly in their path! They feel so helpless—and so inwardly sensible that nothing but the almighty power of God can uphold them as they walk in this dangerous path—a path strewed with snares on every hand—that they are made to cry to the Lord—Hold me up, and I shall be safe! Nothing short of God’s salvation—in its freeness—in its fullness—in its divine manifestation—in its sin-subduing, lust-killing influence—can save them from the power of sin!

Carnal joy

Carnal joy is killed to a child of God. I do not mean to say, that the ‘carnal mind’ is killed. We have too bitter and painful experience to the contrary. But the sources of carnal joy are killed. Why? Because those things which in time past did afford joy, are now discovered to be empty and destitute of the pleasure once found in them. Health, strength, wealth, honor, worldly amusements, sinful pleasures—all these things could once delight and gratify the carnal mind—but God in mercy has put bitterness into this cup. Our carnal mind may still be amused by them for a time. But O, what a gloomy retrospect! and how it pierces the conscience, that we could take a moment’s pleasure, or derive an instant’s happiness from those things which are so hateful and abominable in the sight of God! But if there be any real joy, or happiness, or consolation—it is only in Christ—His blood—His righteousness—His love—His preciousness—His suitability—His tender compassion—the riches of His grace—His glorious Person—all that He is—and all that He has for us.

If ever, as we pass through this wilderness, we feel one drop of solid joy, of true happiness, it must flow, it can flow only from one source—the manifestations of Christ to our souls. We can find joy and peace in Him alone. Sin, the world, the things of time and sense—business, amusement, so-called pleasure—afford now no true joy—there is an aching void—a feeling of dreariness and misery connected with everything short of divine communications of mercy, favor, and love. One smile from the Lord—one word from His lips—one gracious breaking in of the light of His countenance—does, while it lasts, communicate joy—and from no other quarter, from no other source can a moment’s joy be drawn.

Baubles, toys, passing shadows

“That in Me you may have peace.” John 16:33

Peace in self! That never can be found. Peace in the world! That never can be had. Peace in sin! God forbid any of His children should dream of peace there for a moment. Peace in the things of time and sense! Are they not all polluted—all baubles, toys, passing shadows—smoke out of the chimney—chaff on of the summer threshing floor? Can a tried, tempted, dejected believer, cast down with the difficulties of the way—can he find any peace in these things? His carnal mind may, to his shame, for a while be drawn aside by them—his wicked lusts and passions may be entangled in them—his fallen nature may grovel amid these poor perishing daydreams. But peace? There is no peace in these things! And so long as our wicked hearts are going out after wicked things, there will be no true, solid peace within.

Now the Lord designs that all His dear family should have peace in Him. He therefore drives them out of every refuge of lies that they may find no peace in self. He brings them out of the world, that they may find no peace there. He hunts them out of sin, that they may find no peace there. He sees fit also to exercise their minds, and to try them again and again, that finding no peace in anything else—they may come as poor broken-hearted sinners to the footstool of mercy, look unto Jesus, and find peace in Him!

Glued & fettered

The Lord has promised, that in the world we shall have tribulation. But how this staggers a child of God! He cannot understand that his allotted path in the world should be tribulation. And yet how needful—how indispensably needful it is—to have tribulation in the world—for how closely bound up our heart is in it. How glued and fettered our carnal heart is to the things of time and sense! What proneness—what daily, hourly proneness there is—to go after idols—to amuse our vain mind with passing shows—to take an interest in the smallest trifles which surround us—and thus forsake the Fountain of living waters—and hew out to ourselves cisterns—broken cisterns, that hold no water. What a veil of enchantment, too, is often over our eyes—and therefore, what a series of troubles—what days, and weeks, and months, and years of trial does it take to convince us that the world is—not our home—not our rest—not our enduring habitation.

But the Lord mercifully and graciously makes use of tribulation in various shapes and forms, to bring us out of the world—that we may not be condemned with it—nor make it our rest and home. Thus He draws us to His blessed feet, that in Him we may find that peace which we never have found—which we never can find anywhere else. In the world we never can have—we never will have—anything but tribulation and trial. But what is the effect—the merciful effect, of these troubles? Is there not a voice with them? When the ear is opened—tribulation speaks. Are there not most beneficial fruits and effects that flow out of tribulation? For instance. Is not our heart by nature very much glued to the world? Do we not naturally love and cleave to it? As we watch the varied movements of our hearts—are they not perpetually going out after something idolatrous—something to gratify and amuse, to interest, occupy, and please our carnal mind?

It is in order to bring us out of the world, and make us feel it is not our abiding place, and that no happiness is to be found in it—that the Lord sees necessary to lay tribulation upon us—and tribulation of that peculiar nature which will genuinely separate us from the world. When we are passing through tribulation, what a poor vain thing the world appears to us! We need inward consolation—the world cannot give it. We need balm for our conscience—the world, instead of pouring in that balm, rather rips the wound asunder. So that we need—tribulation after tribulation—trial upon trial—affliction upon affliction—stroke upon stroke—grief upon grief—sorrow upon sorrow—to cut asunder that close affinity which there is between us and the world, and to convince us in our very heart and conscience that there is—no rest—no peace—no happiness—no consolation—to be found in anything that the world presents!

Dark marks stamped upon this bright profession!

If we cast a glance at the profession of some, it is all upon the bright side of things. They would gladly have you believe that they are actually and experimentally before God, what they profess to be before men. But when we come with close and searching eye to watch the fruits that spring from this ‘splendid profession,’ how little do they correspond with the profession itself! Pride, covetousness, worldly-mindedness, levity and frivolity, a hard, contentious spirit, irreverence in divine things, running heedlessly into debt, general looseness of conduct. How often are these dark marks stamped upon this bright profession! They hold the truth doctrinally—but the work of the Spirit upon the heart is unknown!

That huge, that deformed, that ugly idol

“I will heal their backsliding, I will love them freely.” Hosea 14:4

Have you never backslidden from God? The Lord in mercy may have kept you from backsliding openly, or bringing a reproach upon His cause. But backslidings are not limited to open sins. Are there no heart idolatries? No eye adulteries? No departing from the living God? No hewing out cisterns, broken cisterns, which hold no water? No cleaving to the world? No delighting in the things of time and sense? No hugging in your bosom that huge, that deformed, that ugly idol, more ugly than the hand of Hindu ever framed—yourself, that monster self—which you so love, admire, and almost adore? Self, that ugly monster, will be perpetually drawing away your eyes and affections from the living God—to center in that worthless and abominable idol. Now, when we feel, deeply and daily feel, our inward idolatries, backslidings, adulteries, and departings from the living God—has not the Lord given a gracious promise that these backslidings shall be healed? He says, “I will heal their backsliding, I will love them freely.”

Our cobweb garment of creature righteousness

Our cobweb garment of creature righteousness must be taken from us! We need to be stripped of those ‘filthy rags’ which cannot shield us from the eye of omniscient Justice. When the corruptions of our heart are laid bare—when sin is allowed to come in like a flood, so as to sweep away all those ‘dreams of fleshly holiness and creature perfection’—when we are put into Satan’s sieve and have our religion shaken backwards and forwards until every sound grain seems gone, and nothing rises to the top but the chaff which the wind blows away—when the Lord puts the soul into the furnace of affliction, and nothing comes to the surface but the dross and scum which are taken away by the Refiner—then we lose this ‘fleshly holiness’ that we once so dearly prized—and so ardently and anxiously longed to obtain. It is lost, utterly lost, when the Lord gives us a sight of what we are, and gives us a glimpse of what He is!

Little else than ignorance & folly!

There was a time, doubtless, with us, when we fancied ourselves very wise—especially when we had made some little progress, as we fancied, in religion, and had stored a few doctrines in our heads—when we had read a few authors, or had studied the Bible, and compared passage with passage and chapter with chapter. We doubtless congratulated ourselves on possessing a vast amount of wisdom—and thought we knew everything because we had some understanding in the ‘letter of God’s word.’

But when we get into difficulties, trials, temptations, and perplexities—then our wisdom all disappears, and we find it little else than ignorance and folly! It does not avail us when most needed. It cannot guide us into paths of peace. It cannot keep us from evil or error. Like a foot out of joint, it gives way the moment any weight or stress is laid upon it!

The Sculptor

God deals with the soul in grace, as the clever sculptor deals with the marble block. He chips out a piece here, and makes prominent a piece there—and at last brings out the beautiful figure. So the blessed Spirit—that true sculptor, who engraves Christ’s image in the heart—sometimes gives and sometimes takes—sometimes pares here, sometimes puts on there—until at last He brings forth the image of Christ in the soul!

The lusts of the flesh!

How strong are the lusts of the flesh! What power they have over the imagination! And how seductive they become, if in the least degree indulged—until the heart becomes a cage of unclean birds! The lust of the flesh and the lust of the eye have sunk many a poor child of God into the deepest bondage! Pride, covetousness, worldly-mindedness, over-anxiety in business, conformity to worldly fashions in dress and furniture, society with those who fear not God—what crying evils are these in our day and generation!

If you want to eat your food in misery

“Give us day by day our daily bread.” Luke 11:3

It is seeing the Lord’s providential hand which makes the commonest temporal mercies sweet. Our daily bread—our various earthly and most undeserved comforts—our clothing—our house and home—our family and friends—are all bestowed upon us by God’s kind providence! It is doubly sweet when we can receive them as immediately from the hands of God—as though He Himself brought them unto us! Whenever, then, we can see the goodness of God in giving us the bounties of providence, it seems to stamp upon them a double value—and we enjoy them, as it were, with a twofold relish—as coming from His bounteous hand!

If you want to eat your food in misery, take it with a thankless, rebellious heart. If you want to eat in sweetness, take it with a thankful heart—seeing it stamped with the goodness of God. A crust of bread, received thankfully as the gift of God, is sweeter than the richest and daintiest meal in which His hand is not seen—at a table so spread, you may sit down with discontent, and rise up with ingratitude.

My groaning!

“Lord, all my desire is before You. My groaning is not hidden from You.” Psalm 38:9

The Lord’s people are very subject to carnality, darkness, hardness, deadness, barrenness, and lukewarmness. And sometimes there seems to be only just so much life in their souls as to feel these things—and groan under them. Under these feelings, therefore, they cry to the Lord—they cannot bear that carnality and darkness, barrenness and death—which seems to have taken possession of them. They come with these burdens to the throne of grace, beseeching the Lord to revive His work in their hearts.

What is implied in the expression, ‘my groaning’? Do we not groan under a sense of pain? It is the most natural expression of our feelings when we are under acute suffering. The woman in travail of childbirth—the patient under the keen knife of the surgeon—the man afflicted with some painful internal disease—can only give vent to their distressing feelings by groaning. And is it not so spiritually? When the Lord’s people groan, it shows there is some painful sensation experienced within them—and these painful feelings they can only express by groaning aloud before the footstool of mercy!

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