doubt the influence of the Spirit, produce the like without him, go and die as Christians die, and live as they live, and if you can show the same calm resignation, the same quiet joy, and the same firm belief that adverse things shall nevertheless work together for good, then we may be, perhaps, at liberty to resign the point, and not until then. The high and noble experience of a Christian in times of trial and suffering, proves that there must be the operation of the Spirit of God.
14. But look at the Christian, too, in his joyous moments. He is rich. God has given him all his heart’s desire on earth. Look at him: he says, “I do not value these things at all, except as they are the gift of God; I hold them loosely and, notwithstanding this house and home, and all these comforts, ‘I am willing to depart and be with Christ, which is far better.’ It is true, I want nothing here on earth; but still I feel that to die would be gain to me, even though I left all these.” He holds earth loosely; he does not grasp it with a tight hand, but looks upon it all as dust, — a thing which is to pass away. He takes very little pleasure in it, saying, —
I’ve no abiding city here,
I seek a city out of sight.
Note that man; he has plenty of room for pleasures in this world, but he drinks from a higher cistern. His pleasure springs from things unseen; his happiest moments happen when he can shut all these good things out, and when he can come to God as a poor guilty sinner, and come to Christ and enter into fellowship with him, and rise into nearness of access and confidence, and boldly approach to the throne of the heavenly grace. Now, what is it that keeps a man who has all these mercies from setting his heart upon the earth? This is a wonder indeed, that a man who has gold and silver, and flocks and herds, should not make these his god, but that he should still say, —
There’s nothing round this spacious earth
That suits my large desire;
To boundless joy and solid mirth
My nobler thoughts aspire.
These are not my treasure; my treasure is in heaven, and in heaven only. What can do this? No mere moral virtue. No doctrine of the Stoic ever brought a man to such a state as that. No, it must be the work of the Spirit, and the work of the Spirit alone, that can lead a man to live in heaven, while there is a temptation to him to live on earth. I do not wonder that a poor man looks forward to heaven; he has nothing to look upon on earth. When there is a thorn in the nest, I do not wonder that the lark flies up, for there is no rest for him below. When you are beaten and chafed by trouble, no wonder you say, —
Jerusalem! my happy home!
Name ever dear to me;
When shall my labours have an end,
In joy, and peace, and thee?
But the greatest wonder is, if you line the Christian’s nest ever so softly, if you give him all the mercies of this life, you still cannot keep him from saying, —
To Jesus, the crown of my hope,
My soul is in haste to be gone;
Oh bear me, you cherubim, up,
And waft me away to his throne.
15. 5. And now, last of all, the acts, the acceptable acts, of the Christian’s life, cannot be performed without the Spirit; and hence, again, the necessity for the Spirit of God. The first act of the Christian’s life is repentance. Have you ever tried to repent? If so, if you tried without the Spirit of God, you know that to urge a man to repent without the promise of the Spirit to help him, is to urge him to do an impossibility. A rock might as soon weep, and a desert might as soon blossom, as a sinner repent of his own accord. If God should offer heaven to man, simply upon the terms of repentance of sin, heaven would be as impossible as it is by good works; for a man can no more repent by himself, than he can perfectly keep God’s law; for repentance involves the very principle of perfect obedience to the law of God. It seems to me that in repentance there is the whole law solidified and condensed; and if a man can repent by himself then there is no need for a Saviour, he may as well go to heaven up the steep sides of Sinai at once.
16. Faith is the next act in the divine life. Perhaps you think faith is very easy; but if you are ever brought to feel the burden of sin you would not find it quite so light a labour. If you are ever brought into deep mire, where there is no standing, it is not so easy to put your feet on a rock, when the rock does not seem to be there. I find faith just the easiest thing in the world when there is nothing to believe; but when I have cause and exercise for my faith, then I do not find I have so much strength to accomplish it. Talking one day with a countryman, he used this figure: “In the middle of winter I sometimes think how well I could mow; and in early spring I think, oh! how I would like to reap; I feel just ready for it; but when mowing time comes, and when reaping time comes, I find I have not strength to spare.” So when you have no troubles, could you not mow them down at once? When you have no work to do, could you not do it? But when work and trouble come you find how difficult it is. Many Christians are like the stag, who talked to itself, and said, “Why should I run away from the dogs? Look what a fine pair of horns I have got, and look what heels I have got too; I might do these hounds some mischief. Why not let me stand and show them what I can do with my antlers? I can keep off any quantity of dogs.” No sooner did the dogs bark, than off the stag went. So with us. “Let sin arise,” we say, “we will soon rip it up, and destroy it; let trouble come, we will soon get over it”; but when sin and trouble come, we then find out what our weakness is. Then we have to cry for the help of the Spirit; and through him we can do all things, though without him we can do nothing at all.
17. In all the acts of the Christian’s life, whether it is the act of consecrating one’s self to Christ, or the act of daily prayer, or the act of constant submission, or preaching the gospel, or ministering to the needs of the poor, or comforting the desponding, in all these the Christian finds his weakness and his powerlessness, unless he is clothed with the Spirit of God. Why, I have been to see the sick at times, and I have thought how I would like to comfort them; and I could not get a word out that was worth their hearing, or worth my saying; and my soul has been in agony to be the means of comforting the poor, sick, desponding brother; but I could do nothing, and I came out of the room, and half wished I had never been to see a sick person in my life: so I had learned my own folly. So has it been too often in preaching. You prepare a sermon study it, and come and make the greatest mess of it that can possibly be. Then you say, “I wish I had never preached at all.” But all this is to show us, that neither in comforting nor in preaching can one do anything right, unless the Spirit works in us to will and to do his own good pleasure. Everything, moreover, that we do without the Spirit is unacceptable to God; and whatever we do under his influence, however we may despise it, is not despised by God, for he never despises his own work, and the Spirit never can look upon what he works in us with any other view than that of complacency and delight. If the Spirit helps me to groan, then God must accept the groaner. If you could pray the best prayer in the world, without the Spirit, God would have nothing to do with it; but if your prayer is broken, and lame, and limping, if the Spirit made it, God will look upon it, and say, as he did upon the works of creation, “It is very good”; and he will accept it.
18. And now let me conclude by asking this question. My hearer, then have you the Spirit of God in you? You have some religion, most of you, I dare say. Well, of what kind is it? Is it a homemade article? Did you make yourself what you are? Then, if so, you are a lost man up to this moment. If, my hearer, you have gone no further than you have walked yourself, you are not on the road to heaven yet; you have your face turned the wrong way; but if you have received something which neither flesh nor blood could reveal to you, if you have been led to do the very thing which you once hated, and to love that thing which you once despised, and to despise that on which your heart and your pride were once set, then, soul, if this is the Spirit’s work, rejoice; for where he has begun the good work, he will carry it on. And you may know whether it is the Spirit’s work by this. Have you been led to Christ, and away from self? Have you been led away from all feelings, from all doings, from all willings, from all prayings, as the