“The fire shall try every man’s work of what sort it is.” 1 Corinthians 3:13
The fire which is to prove every man’s work of what sort it is, is not merely God’s wrath as manifested at the last day; but his fire as significative of the fiery trial which takes place in this life, and which God mercifully brings upon his people to burn up their wood, hay, and stubble. Now it is an inestimable mercy to have all this combustible material burnt up before we come to a death-bed. Fiery trials, such as God sends through afflictions, temptations, distressing feelings, and painful soul exercises, will burn up the wood, hay, and stubble which any of his saints may have gathered up as a superstructure. Guilt pressing upon a man’s conscience, the terrors of the Almighty in a fiery law, his arrows deeply fixed in the breast and drying up the spirit, fears of death, hell, and judgment, and the terrible consequences of dying under the wrath of God, all these are a part of the fiery trial which burns up the wood, hay, and stubble heaped by Babel builders on the foundation. All sink into black ashes before this fire, which proves what they are, and what a vain refuge they afford in the day of trouble.
What then stands the fiery trial? God’s work upon the soul, the faith that he implants by his own Spirit. It may be weak; it may be, it must be tried; it may seem at times scarcely to exist; and yet being of God, it stands every storm, and lives at last. A good hope through grace, a hope of God’s own communicating and maintaining,—like a well-tried anchor, this will stand the storm; like gold and silver, this will bear the hottest furnace; lose its dross, but not lose the pure material, but be refined, purified, and manifested all the more as genuine metal. So, too, these “precious stones” (1 Cor. 3:12), these heavenly visits, sweet manifestations, blessed promises, comforting discoveries, and gracious revelations of the Son of God, with the whispers of his dying, bleeding love,—these heavenly jewels can never be lost and never be burnt up. They may be tried, and that keenly and sharply, but being of God’s gift and operation, they are essentially indestructible.
“For we which have believed do enter into rest.” Hebrews 4:3
To rest is to lean upon something. Is it not? So spiritually. We want to lean upon something. The Lord himself has given us this figure. “Who is this that cometh up from the wilderness, leaning upon her Beloved?” The figure of “a rock” on which the Church is built, “the foundation” which God has laid in Zion, points to the same idea, that of leaning or dependence. Now when the soul comes to lean upon Jesus, and depend wholly and solely on him, it enters into the sweetness of the invitation. Have we not leant upon a thousand things? And what have they proved? Broken reeds that have run into our hands, and pierced us. Our own strength and resolutions, the world and the church, sinners and saints, friends and enemies, have they not all proved, more or less, broken reeds? The more we have leant upon them, like a man leaning upon a sword, the more have they pierced our souls. The Lord himself has to wean us from the world, from friends, from enemies, from self, in order to bring us to lean upon himself; and every prop he will remove, sooner or later, that we may lean wholly and solely upon his Person, love, blood, and righteousness.
But there is another idea in the word “rest”—termination. When we are walking, running, or in any way moving, we are still going onwards; we have not got to the termination of our journey. But when we come to the termination of that we have been doing, we rest. So spiritually. As long as we are engaged in setting up our own righteousness, in labouring under the law, there is no termination of our labours. But when we come to the glorious Person of the Son of God, when we hang upon his atoning blood, dying love, and glorious righteousness, and feel them sweet, precious, and suitable, then there is rest. “We which have believed do enter into rest,” says the Apostle. His legal labours are all terminated. His hopes and expectations flow unto, and centre in Jesus—there they end, there they terminate; such a termination as a river finds in the boundless ocean.
We speak sometimes of the attributes of God, and we use the words to help our conception. But God, strictly speaking, has no attributes. His attributes are himself. We speak, for instance, of the love of God, but God is love; of the justice of God, but God is just; of the holiness of God, but God is holy; of the purity of God, but God is pure. As he is all love, so he is all justice, all purity, all holiness. Love, then, is infinite, because God is infinite; his very name, his very character, his very nature, his very essence is infinite love. He would cease to be God if he did not love, and if that love were not as large as himself, as infinite as his own self-existent, incomprehensible essence. The love of the Son of God, as God the Son, is co-equal and co-eternal with the love of the Father; for the holy Trinity has not three distinct loves, either in date or degree. The Father loves from all eternity; the Holy Ghost loves from all eternity. The love of the Father, of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost, as one, equal, indivisible, infinite Jehovah cannot be otherwise but One. We therefore read of “the love of God,” that is the Father (2 Cor. 13:14); of “the love of the Son” (Gal. 2:20); and of “the love of the Spirit” (Rom. 15:30). This love being infinite, can bear with all our infirmities, with all those grievous sins that would, unless that love were boundless, have long ago broken it utterly through. This is beautifully expressed by the prophet: “How shall I give thee up, Ephraim? how shall I deliver thee, Israel? how shall I make thee as Admah? how shall I set thee as Zeboim? mine heart is turned within me, my repentings are kindled together. I will not execute the fierceness of mine anger, I will not return to destroy Ephraim: for I am God, and not man.”
“Hear now, O Joshua the high priest, thou, and thy fellows that sit before thee:
for they are men wondered at.” Zechariah 3:8
A sinner saved is a spectacle for angels to contemplate. As the Apostle says,
“We are made a spectacle unto the world, and to angels and to men.” The
ancients used to say that “a good man struggling with difficulties was a sight
for the gods to look at.” We may say, with all Christian truth, that the
mysteries of redemption are “things the angels desire to look into;” and
among the mysteries of redemption, what greater than a redeemed sinner?
That a man who deserves, by sin original and sin actual, nothing but the
eternal wrath of God, should be lifted out of perdition justly merited into
salvation to which he can have no claim, must indeed ever be a holy wonder.
And that you or I should ever have been fixed on in the electing love of God,
ever have been given to Jesus to redeem, ever quickened by the Spirit to feel
our lost, ruined state, ever blessed with any discovery of the Lord Jesus
Christ and of his saving grace,—this is and ever must be a matter of holy
astonishment here, and will be a theme for endless praise hereafter. To see a
man altogether so different from what he once was; once so careless, carnal,
ignorant, unconcerned; to see that man now upon his knees begging for
mercy, the tears streaming down his face, his bosom heaving with convulsive
sighs, his eyes looking upward that pardon may reach him in his desperate
state,—is not that a man to be looked at with wonder and admiration? To see
a man preferring one smile from the face of Jesus, and one word from his
peace-speaking lips to all the titles, honours, pleasures, and power that the
world can bestow; why, surely if there be a wonder upon earth, that man is
one. Was not this the very feeling of the disciples when Saul first “preached
Christ in the synagogues, that he is the Son of God?” “All that heard him
were amazed, and said, Is not this he that persecuted the Church of God?”
So we look and wonder, and feel at times a holy joy that he who reigns at
God’s right hand is ever adding trophies to his immortal crown. And
whenever we see any of those near and dear to us in the flesh; be it husband,
wife, sister, brother, child, relative, or friend, touched by the finger of this
all-conquering Lord, subdued by his grace, and wrought upon by his Spirit,
then not only do we look upon such with holy wonder, but with the tenderest
affection, mingled with the tears of thankful praise to the God of all our
mercies.
“Thus saith the Lord; I remember thee, the kindness of thy youth, the love of
thine espousals, when thou wentest after me in the wilderness, in a land that
was not sown.” Jeremiah 2:2
If we look at salvation, we shall see that it consists of three parts; salvation
past, salvation present, and salvation future. Salvation past consists in having
our names written in the Lamb’s book of life before the foundation of the
world. Salvation present consists in the manifestation of Jesus to the soul,
whereby he betroths it to himself. And salvation future consists in the eternal
enjoyment of Christ, when the elect shall sit down to the marriage-supper of
the Lamb, and be for ever with the Lord. Now, as none will ever enjoy
salvation future who have no interest in salvation past; in other words, as
none will ever be with Christ in eternal glory whose names were not written
in the book of life from all eternity; so none will enjoy salvation future, who
live and die without enjoying salvation present. In other words, none will live
for ever with Christ in glory who are not betrothed to him in this life by the
manifestations of himself to their soul. According to the Jewish custom, the
man, at the time of betrothing, gave the bride a piece of silver before
witnesses, saying to her, “Receive this piece of silver as a pledge that at such
a time you shall become my spouse.” And the parties then exchanged rings.
This meeting of the espoused parties together, who then saw each other for
the first time, is a sweet type of the first meeting of the soul with Jesus. The
damsel had heard of the youth, but till then had never seen him; as seeking
souls hear of Jesus by the hearing of the ear, before their eyes see him. The
vail was upon her face (Gen. 24:65), as the vail is upon the heart (2 Cor.3:15),
until Jesus rends it in twain from the top to the bottom. The bridegroom gave
his betrothed a piece of silver, as a pledge that all he had was hers. And thus
Christ gives to the soul, whom he betroths to himself by his own
manifestations, a pledge, a token, a testimony, which, in itself, is the firstfruits
and assurance of eternal glory. The parties exchanged rings, as pledges
of mutual affection and eternal faithfulness. And thus, when Christ reveals
himself to the soul in his dying love, mutual engagements, mutual promises,
mutual assurances and pledges of faithfulness and love pass between the soul
and him. “One shall say, I am the Lord’s, and another shall call himself by
the name of Jacob, and another shall subscribe with his hand unto the
Lord.” At these seasons, “in the day of the King’s espousals,” the language of
the soul is, “I sat down under his shadow with great delight, and his fruit was
sweet to my taste; he brought me to the banqueting-house, and his banner
over me was love.”
“Having therefore, brethren, boldness to enter into the holiest by the blood of Jesus.” Hebrews 10:19
Nothing will satisfy a living soul but coming “into the holiest.” He wants to have communion with God, the holy, holy, holy Lord God of hosts. He is not dealing with a God distant and afar off, an idol, a God in whom he has neither faith, nor hope, nor love; who can neither see, nor hear, nor save; a God of his own conception or of some indistinct, traditional opinion; but he feels in his very conscience that he is carrying on a sacred and holy intercourse with the God of heaven and earth, the God who has made himself in some measure known to his soul as the God and Father of the Lord Jesus Christ. With him he has to do; to him he must come; and with him he must hold holy communion. Before his heart-searching eyes he feels he stands; into his ever-open ears he pours his petition; to his mercy and pity he appeals; his compassion he craves; his love he seeks; his salvation he longs for; and his presence above all things he earnestly desires. So he must come into the holiest, for there God dwells; and to come unto God is to come there. The man who thus feels and acts is an Israelite indeed in whom there is no guile; one of the true circumcision who worship God in the Spirit, rejoice in Christ Jesus, and have no confidence in the flesh. Others are satisfied with the courts of the house, with admiring the external building, or the painted windows, carved pews, and long drawn aisles; with the mere worship of God as so much lip service. But the living soul goes beyond all that into the very heart of the sanctuary itself. As the high priest on the day of atonement did not tarry amongst the people in the court, nor with the priests in the holy place, but pressed on, ever pressed on through the thick veil until he got into the holy of holies; so with the saint of God—he does not tarry in the outer court with the profane, nor in the sanctuary with the professor, so as to be satisfied with seeing God with a veil between. But he must come into that immediate presence of God, where he may see something of his grace, behold something of his glory, feel something of his mercy, and taste something of his power. And this makes him press forward into the holiest.
“But the God of all grace, who hath called us unto his eternal glory by Christ Jesus, after that ye have suffered a while, make you perfect, stablish, strengthen, settle you.” 1Peter 5:10
There is no Christian perfection, no divine establishment, no spiritual strength, no solid settlement, except by suffering. But after the soul has suffered, after it has felt God’s chastising hand, the effect is to perfect, to establish, to strengthen, and to settle it. By suffering, a man becomes settled into a solemn conviction of the character of Jehovah as revealed in the Scripture, and in a measure made experimentally manifest in his conscience. He is settled in the belief of an “everlasting covenant, ordered in all things, and sure;” in the persuasion that “all things work together for good to them that love God, and are the called according to his purpose;” in the firm conviction that everything comes to pass according to God’s eternal purpose; and are all tending to the good of the Church, and to God’s eternal glory. His soul, too, is settled down into a deep persuasion of the misery, wretchedness, and emptiness of the creature; into the conviction that the world is but a shadow, and that the things of time and sense are but bubbles that burst the moment they are grasped; that of all things sin is most to be dreaded, and the favour of God above all things most to be coveted; that nothing is really worth knowing except Jesus Christ and him crucified; that all things are passing away, and that he himself is rapidly hurrying down the stream of life, and into the boundless ocean of eternity. Thus he becomes settled in a knowledge of the truth, and his soul remains at anchor, looking to the Lord to preserve him here, and bring him in peace and safety to his eternal home.
“For all have sinned, and come short of the glory of God.” Romans 3:23
What is it to “come short of the glory of God?” It is to act without a view to his glory. Now everything that we have ever done, which has not been done with a single eye to God’s glory, has the brand of sin stamped on it. But who in an unregenerate state, who, as the fallen son of a fallen parent, ever had an eye to the glory of God? Did such a thing ever enter into man’s natural heart as to speak to God’s glory, act to his glory, consult his glory, and live to his glory? Before ever such a thought, such a desire can cross our breast, we must have seen Him who is invisible; we must have had a view by faith of the glory of the Three-One God; we must have had a single eye given us by the Holy Ghost to see that glory outshining all creature good. Every movement, then, of the selfish heart, every desire to gratify, please and exalt self, is a coming short of the glory of God. This stamps all natural men’s religious services with the brand of sin. It leaves the religious in the same awful state as the irreligious; it hews down the professing world with the same sword that cuts down the profane world. When men in a state of nature are what is called “religious,” is their religion’s end and aim the glory of God, the glory of free grace, the glory of the Mediator between God and man, the glory of the Holy Ghost, the only Teacher of God’s people? Take it in its best, its brightest shape, is it not another form of selfishness, to exalt their own righteousness, and climb to heaven by the ladder of their own doings? And is not this a coming short of the glory of God? But besides that, the very glory of God requires that every one accepted in his sight should be without spot, speck, stain or blemish. A pure God cannot accept, cannot look upon, cannot be pleased with impurity; and just in proportion to the infinite purity and ineffable holiness of Jehovah, must all impurity, all carnality, all unholiness, and the slightest deviation from absolute perfection be hateful and horrible in his sight.
Now this all the election of grace are brought more or less to feel. It is the solemn and indispensable preparation of the heart for mercy; it is the introduction by the hand of the Spirit into the antechamber of the King of kings. It is the bringing of the soul to that spot, that only spot, where grace is felt, received, and known. It is, therefore, utterly indispensable for the election of grace, for all the ransomed and quickened family of God, to have this felt in their conscience, that they “have sinned, and come short of the glory of God.”
“In whom also after that ye believed, ye were sealed with that holy Spirit of promise.” Ephesians 1:13
Sealing is subsequent to believing: “In whom after ye believed, ye were sealed.” In legal documents the writing always precedes the sealing. That is the last act, and follows even the signing, putting an attesting stamp on the whole document, from the first word to the last signature. So in grace. The Spirit begins the work. He writes the first lines of divine truth on the soul; he makes the first impression on the heart of stone, which under his operation becomes a heart of flesh; he writes every truth that he thus makes known on the fleshy tables of the heart. He thus gives faith and hope, and then he comes with his special inward witness, and seals the truth and reality of his own work, so as not only to make it plain and clear, but to ratify and confirm it beyond all doubt and fear, questioning or dispute, either by ourself or others. The work of God on the soul sometimes seems to lie as if dead and dormant; little prayer goes up, little answer comes down. Then doubts and fears arise whether the work be genuine, and much bondage and darkness sensibly gather over the mind like a dark and gloomy cloud, which much obscures the handwriting of the divine finger. Now the blessed Spirit revives his work by some application of the word with power, some softening and melting of the hard heart by his divine influence, some communication of a spirit of prayer, some discovery of the gracious Lord, some strengthening of faith, reviving of hope, and drawing forth of love. He thus puts the seal on his own work, and stamps it as genuine. Under the sweetness and blessedness of this attesting seal many a poor child of God can look back to this and that testimony, this and that Ebenezer, this and that hill Mizar, this and that deliverance, blessing, manifestation, answer to prayer, special season under the word or on his knees, which were almost lost and buried in unbelief and confusion. But especially when he bears witness with their spirit that they are the children of God, and shedding abroad the love of God in their heart becomes in them the Spirit of adoption, whereby they cry, “Abba, Father,” is his sealing manifest and complete.
“All that the Father giveth me shall come to me; and him that cometh to me I will in no wise cast out.” John 6:37
Now, poor sinner, upon whose head the beams of a fiery law are darting; now, poor sinner, distressed in thy mind, guilty in thy conscience, plagued with a thousand temptations, beset by innumerable doubts and fears, canst thou not look up a little out of thy gloom and sadness, and see that the eternal God is thy refuge? Dost thou not cleave to him with the utmost of thy power, as being beaten out of every other? Hast thou not taken hold of his strength that thou mayest make peace with him? Art thou not looking to him? And does he not say, “Look unto me and be ye saved, all the ends of the earth?” He bids thee look at him as Moses bade the Israelites look to the brazen serpent. Poor sinner, groaning under the weight of thy transgression, he bids thee look to him. Has the blessed Lord, he into whose lips grace was poured, not said, “Him that cometh to me I will in no wise cast out?” Why should you not look? Why should you not come to him? Will he cast you out? Do you not feel the secret drawings of his grace, movements upon your heart which make you come often with strong crying and tears, with groans and sighs, earnest, vehement, and continual supplications? What are these but the inward teachings of God, as our Lord said, “It is written in the prophets, And they shall be all taught of God. Every man therefore that hath heard, and hath learned of the Father, cometh unto me.” And do you not know that the Lord himself said, that no man can come to him except the Father which hath sent him draw him? These comings, therefore, of thy soul in earnest and vehement desire are, according to his own testimony, from the special teachings and gracious drawings of God in thee. Having made his dear Son to be the refuge of thy soul, he is now drawing thee unto him that thou mayest find pardon and peace in him. But perhaps you will say, “I am so sinful, so guilty, I have been such a sinner, much worse than you can form any conception of; and it is this which sinks me so low.” Art thou lower than brother Jonah when he was in the whale’s belly, and, in his own feelings, in the belly of hell? And yet what said he? “Yet will I look again toward thy holy temple.” Canst thou not look again toward the holy temple? Is his mercy clean gone for ever? So David felt and feared, but it was not so, for “his mercy endureth for ever;” and that is a long and strong word. Look and live, look and live!
