Sabado, Hunyo 29, 2019

Assurance (Arthur W. Pink, 1932)

By way of introduction and in order to acquaint the reader with the particular angle of viewpoint from which we now approach our present theme, let it be pointed out that changing conditions in Christendom call for an ever-varying emphasis on different aspects of divine truth. Did space allow and were the writer fully equipped for such a task — it would be both interesting and instructive to give in detail the history of the teaching of Assurance throughout this dispensation. Instead, we can barely outline it. At different periods, the true servants of God have had to face widely different situations and meet errors of varied character.
This has called for a campaign of offense and defense adapted to the exigencies of many situations. The weapons suited to one conflict — were quite useless for another, fresh ones needing to be constantly drawn from the armory of Scripture.
At the close of that lengthy period known as "the dark ages" (though throughout it, God never left Himself without a clear witness), when the Lord caused a flood of light to break forth upon Christendom, the Reformers were faced by the hoary errors of Romanism, among which was her insistence that none could be positively assured of his salvation until the hour of death was reached. This caused Luther and his contemporaries to deliver a positive message, seeking to stimulate confidence toward God and the laying hold of His sure promises.
Yet it has to be acknowledged that there were times when their zeal carried them too far, leading to a position which could not be successfully defended from the Scriptures. Many of the Reformers insisted that assurance was an essential element in saving faith itself, and that unless a person knew he was "accepted in the Beloved," he was yet in his sins. Thus, in the revolt from Romanism — the Protestant pendulum swung too far to the opposite side.
In the great mercy of God, the balance of truth was restored in the days of the Puritans. The principal doctrine which Luther and his fellows had emphasized so forcibly was justification by faith alone — but at the close of the sixteenth century and in the early part of the seventeenth, such men as Perkins, Gattaker, Rollock, etc. made prominent the collateral doctrine of sanctification by the Spirit. For the next fifty years, the church on earth was blessed with many men "mighty in the Scriptures," deeply taught of God, enabled by Him to maintain a well-rounded ministry.
Such men as Goodwin, Owen, Charnock, Flavel, Sibbes, etc., though living in troublous times and suffering fierce persecution, taught the Word more helpfully (in our judgment) and were more used of God than any since the days of the apostles to the present hour.
The ministry of the Puritans was an exceedingly searching one. While magnifying the free grace of God in no uncertain terms, while teaching plainly that the satisfaction of Christ alone gave title to Heaven, while emphatically repudiating all creature-merits — they nevertheless insisted that a supernatural and transforming work of the Spirit in the heart and life of the believer was indispensable to fit him for Heaven. Professors were rigidly tested and the results and fruits of faith were demanded before its presence was admitted. Self-examination was frequently insisted upon and full details given as to how one might ascertain that he was a "new creature in Christ Jesus." Christians were constantly urged to "make their calling and election sure" (2 Peter 1:10) by ascertaining that they had clear evidence of the same. While conditions were far from being perfect — yet there is good reason to conclude that more deluded souls were undeceived and more hypocrites exposed than at any other period since the first century.
The eighteenth century witnessed a sad declension and departure from the faith. Worldly prosperity brought in spiritual deterioration. As the Puritan leaders died off, none were raised up to fill their places. Arminianism spread rapidly, followed by Deism (Unitarianism), and other fatal errors. Worldliness engulfed the churches — and lawlessness and wickedness were rampant. The Gospel-trumpet was almost silent and the remnant of God's people dwindled down to an insignificant and helpless handful.
But where sin abounded — grace did much more abound. Again the light of God shone forth powerfully in the darkness — Whitefield, Romaine, Gill, Hervey, and others being raised up by God to revive His saints and convert many sinners to Christ. The main emphasis of their preaching and teaching was upon the sovereign grace of God as exhibited in the everlasting covenant, the certain efficacy of Christ's atonement unto all for whom it was made, and the work of the Spirit in regeneration. Under the God-given revivals of the latter part of the eighteenth century, the great doctrines of the Christian faith occupied the most prominent place.
In order that the balance of truth might be preserved during the next two or three generations, it became necessary for the servants of God to emphasize the experimental side of things. Intellectual orthodoxy qualifies none for Heaven. There must be a moral and spiritual transformation, a miracle of grace wrought within the soul, which begins at regeneration and is carried on by sanctification. During that period, doctrinal exposition receded more and more into the background, and the practical application of the Word to the heart and life was the characteristic feature in orthodox circles. This called for serious self-examination, and that, in many cases, resulted in doubtings and despondency.
Where a due balance is not preserved by preachers and teachers between the objective and subjective sides of the truth — where the latter preponderates, either a species of mysticism or a lack of assurance ensues.
The second half of last century found many circles of professing Christians on the borders of the Slough of Despond. In many companies, the full assurance of salvation was looked upon as a species of fanaticism or as carnal presumption. Unduly occupied with themselves, ill-instructed upon the "two natures" in the Christian — thousands of poor souls regarded doubts and fearssighs and groans, as the highest evidence of a regenerate state; but those being mixed with worldly and fleshly lustings — the subjects were afraid to affirm they were children of God.
To meet this situation, many ill-trained evangelists and teachers sought to direct attention to Christ and His "finished work," and to get their hearers' confidence placed upon the bare Word of God. Thus while one evil was corrected — another was committed. While the letter of Scripture was honored — the work of the Spirit was (unwittingly) dishonored. Supposing they had a remedy which was sure to work in all cases alike, a superficial work resulted, the aftermath of which we are now reaping. Thousands of souls who give no evidence of being born again — are quite confident that Christ has saved them.
From the brief outline presented above, it will be seen that the pendulum has swung from one side to the other. Man is a creature of extremes — and nothing but the grace of God can enable any of us to steer a middle path.
A careful study of the course of religious history also reveals the fact that the servants of God have been obliged, from time to time, to vary their note of emphasis. This is one meaning of that expression, "And be established in the present truth" (2 Peter 1:12) — namely, that particular aspect or line of truth which is most needful at any given time.
Instead of gaining ground, the Puritans would have lost it — had they merely echoed what the Reformers had taught. It was not that Owen contradicted Luther — rather he supplemented him. Where particular stress has been laid on the counsels of sovereign grace and the imputed righteousness of Christ — this needs to be followed by attention being drawn to the work of the Spirit within the saints. In like manner, where much ministry has been given on the Christian's state — there is a need for a clear exposition of his standing before God.
It is truly deplorable that so few have recognized the need for applying the principle that has just been mentioned. So many, having a zeal which is not tempered by knowledge, suppose that because some honored servant of God in the past was granted much success through his dwelling so largely upon one particular line of truth — that they will have equal success provided they imitate him. But circumstances alter cases. The different states through which the professing church passes — calls for different ministry. There is such a thing as "a word spoken in due season" (Pro 15:23). O that it may please God to open the eyes of many to see what is most "seasonable" for the degenerate times in which our lot is cast, and grant them spiritual discernment to recognize that even many portions of divine truth may prove highly injurious to souls if given them out of season.
We recognize this fact easily enough in connection with material things. Why are we so slow to do so when it concerns spiritual things? Meats and nuts are nutritious — but who would think of feeding an infant with them? So too sickness of body calls for a change of diet. The same is true of the soul. To make this clearer, let us select one or two extreme cases.
The truth of eternal punishment should be faithfully preached by every servant of God — but would a broken-hearted woman, who had just lost her husband or child, be a suitable audience?
The glory and bliss of the heavenly state is a precious theme — but would it be fitting to present it unto a professing Christian who was intoxicated?
The eternal security of the saints is clearly revealed in Holy Writ, but does that justify me pressing it on the attention of a backslidden child of God?
Our introduction has been a lengthy one — yet we deemed it necessary to pave the way for what follows. The servant of God is facing today a dreadfully serious and solemn situation. Much that is dearest of all to his heart, he has largely to be silent upon. If he is to faithfully deal with souls, he must address himself to the condition they are in. Unless he is much upon his guard, unless he constantly seeks wisdom and guidance from above — he is likely to make bad matters worse.
On every side are people full of assurance — certain that they are journeying to Heaven. Yet their daily lives show plainly that they are deceived and that their assurance is only a fleshly one. Thousands are, to use their own words, "resting on John 3:16" and have not the slightest doubt they will spend eternity with Christ. Nevertheless, it is the bounden duty of every real servant of God to tell the great majority of them that they are woefully deluded by Satan.
O that it may please God to give us the ear and serious attention of some of them. Sometime ago, we read of an incident which, as nearly as we recall, was as follows. Nearly one hundred years ago, conditions in England were similar to what they have recently been in this country. Banks were failing and people were panic-stricken. One man, who had lost confidence in the banks, drew out all his money in five-pound notes and then got a friend to change them into gold. Conditions grew worse, other banks failed, and some of this man's friends told him they had lost their all. With much confidence, he informed them that he had drawn out his money, had changed it into gold, and that this was secretly hidden where no one would find it, so that he was perfectly safe. A little later, when needing to buy some things, he went to his secret hoard and took out five golden sovereigns. He went from one shop to another, but none would accept them — they were bad ones. Thoroughly alarmed, he went to his hidden money, only to find that it was all counterfeit coin!
Now dear reader, you too may be quite sure that your faith in Christ is true "gold," and yet, after all, be mistaken. The danger of this is not imagined, but real. The human heart is dreadfully deceitful (Jeremiah 17:9). God's Word plainly warns us that, "There is a generation that are pure in their own eyes — and yet is not washed from their filthiness" (Proverbs 30:12). Do you ask (O that you may, in deep earnestness and sincerity), How can I be sure that my faith is a genuine and saving one?
The answer is, Test it. Make certain that it is the "faith of God's elect" (Titus 1:1). Ascertain whether or not your faith is accompanied with those fruits which are inseparable from a God-given and Spirit-wrought faith.
Probably many are ready to say, "There is no need for me to be put to any such trouble. I know that my faith is a saving one, for I am resting on the finished work of Christ." But dear friend, it is foolish to talk like that. God Himself bids His people to make their "calling and election sure" (2 Peter 1:10). Is that a needless exhortation? O do not pit your vain confidence — against divine wisdom. It is Satan who is striving so hard to keep many from this very task, lest they discover that their house is built on the sand. There is hope for one who discovers his illusionment, but there is none for those who go on believing the devil's lie and rest content with the very real but false peace which he gives to so many of his poor victims.
God Himself has supplied us with tests, and we are mad if we do not avail ourselves of them and honestly measure ourselves by them. "These things have I written unto you who believe on the name of the Son of God; that you may know that you have eternal life, and that you may believe [more intelligently] on the name of the Son of God" (1 John 5:13). The Holy Spirit Himself moved one of His servants to write a whole epistle to instruct us how we might know whether or not we have eternal life.
Does that look as though the question may be determined and settled as easily as so many present-day preachers and writers represent it? If nothing more than a firm persuasion of the truth of John 3:16 is needed to assure me of my salvation — then why did God give a whole epistle to instruct us on this subject? Let the really concerned soul read slowly and thoughtfully through this first epistle of John, and let him duly observe that not once in its five chapters are we told, "We know that we have passed from death unto life because we are resting on the finished work of Christ." The total absence of such a statement ought surely to convince us that something must be radically wrong with so much of the popular teaching of the day on this subject.
But not only is there no such declaration made in this epistle, the very first passage which contains the familiar, "We know," is quite the reverse of what is now being so widely advocated as the ground of Christian assurance. "And hereby we do know that we know him — if we keep his commandments" (1 John 2:3). Is not that plain enough? A godly life is the first proof that I am a child of God.
But let us observe the solemn declaration that immediately follows. "He who says, 'I know him,' and keeps not his commandments — is a liar, and the truth is not in him" (1 John 2:4). Do these words anger you? We trust not. They are God's, not ours. Do you refuse to read any more of this article? That would be a bad sign. An honest heart does not fear the light. A sincere soul is willing to be searched by the truth. If you are unable to endure now the feeble probings of one of His servants — then how will it fare in a soon-coming day when the Lord Himself shall search you through and through?
O dear friend, give your poor soul a fair chance and be willing to ascertain whether your faith is real wheat — or only chaff. If it proves to be the latter — there is still time for you to humble yourself before God and cry unto Him to give you saving faith. But in that day it will be too late!
"He who says, 'I know him,' and keeps not his commandments — is a liar, and the truth is not in him" (1 John 2:4). How plain and pointed is this language! How solemn is its clear intimation! Do you not see, dear reader, this verse plainly implies that there are those who claim to know Christ — and yet are liars? The father of lies has deceived them — and he is doing everything in his power to keep them from being undeceived. That is why the unregenerate reader finds this article so unpalatable and wishes to turn from it. O resist this inclination, we beseech you.
God has given us this very verse by which we may measure ourselves and discover whether or not our "assurance of salvation" will stand the test of His Holy Word. Then do not act like the silly ostrich, which buries its head in the sand, rather than face his danger.
Let us quote one more verse from this first "we know" passage in John's epistle. "But whoever keeps his word, in him truly is the love of God perfected — hereby we know that we are in him" (1 John 2:5). This stands in sharp contrast from the preceding verse. The apostle was here moved to set before us some clear scriptural evidences of spiritual faith and love, which constitute the vital difference between sheep and goats.
In verse 4, it is the empty professor who says, "I know Christ as my personal Savior." He has a theoretical knowledge — but not a vital knowledge of Him. He boasts that he is resting on Christ's finished work, and is confident that he is saved — but he does not keep His commandments. He is still a self-pleaser. Like Solomon's sluggard, he is "wiser in his own conceits than seven men that can render a reason" (Pro 26:16). He talks boldly, but walks carelessly.
In verse 5, it is the genuine Christian who is in view. He does not say, "I know Him," instead he proves it. The apostle is not here presenting Christ as the immediate object of faith, but is describing him who has savingly fled to the Lord for refuge — and this by the effects produced. In him, Christ's Word is everything — his food, his constant meditation, his chart. He "keeps" it, in memory, in heart, in action. Christ's "commandments" occupy his thoughts and prayers, as much as do His promises. That Word working in him . . .
subdues his carnal desires,
feeds his graces, and
draws them into real exercise and act.
That Word has such a place in his heart and mind that he cannot but give proof of the same in his talk and walk. In this way the "love of God is perfected" (1 John 2:5). The family likeness is plainly stamped upon him. All can see to which "father" he belongs — contrast John 8:44).
"Whoever keeps his word . . . hereby [in this way] know we that we are in him." Keep His Word perfectly? No. But actually, characteristically, in deep desire and honest effort to do so? Yes. Regeneration is that miracle of divine grace wrought in the soul which . . .
enlists the affections Godward,
brings the human will into subjection to the divine,
and produces a real and radical change in the life.
That change is from worldliness — to godliness; from disobedience — to obedience.
At the new birth, the love of God is shed abroad in the heart by the Holy Spirit, and that love is manifested in a dominating longing and sincere purpose to please in all things — the One who has plucked me as a brand from the burning.
There is a greater difference between the genuine Christian, and the deceived professing Christian — than there is between a living man and a corpse. None need remain in doubt if they will honestly measure themselves by the Holy Word of God.
There is only space left for us to consider one other Scripture, namely, the parable of the sower. Why did the Lord Jesus give us that parable? Why, but to stir me up to serious inquiry and diligent examination so as to discover which kind of a "hearer" I am.
In that parable, Christ likened those who hear the Word unto various sorts of ground upon which seeds fall. He divided them into four different classes. Three out of the four brought no fruit to perfection. That is exceedingly solemn and searching.
In one case, the devil snatches away the good seed out of the heart (Luke 8:12).
In another case, they "believe for a while — and in time of temptation they fall away" (Luke 8:13).
In another case, they are "choked with cares and riches and pleasures of this life" (Luke 8:14).
Are you, my reader, described in one of these? Do not ignore this question, we beg you. Face it honestly and make sure which of the various soils represent your heart.
But there are some "good ground" hearers. And how are they to be identified? What did the infallible Son of God say of them? How did He describe them? Did He say, "Those on the good ground are they who rest on the Word of God and doubt not His promises; are thoroughly persuaded they are saved — and yet go on living the same kind of life as previously"? No, He did not. Instead, He declared, "But those on the good ground are they, who in an honest and good heart, having heard the word, keep it, and bring forth fruit with patience" (Luke 8:15).

Ah, dear readers, the test is fruit — not knowledge, not boastings, not orthodoxy, not joy — but FRUIT, and such "fruit" as mere nature cannot produce. It is the fruit of the Vine, namely, likeness to Christ, being conformed to His image. May the Holy Spirit search each one of us.

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Assurance of Salvation (John Newton, 1725-1807)

We may easily conceive of a tree without fruit—but the idea of fruit is naturally connected with that of some tree which produces it. In this sense, assurance is the essence of faith; that is—it springs from true faith, and can grow upon no other root. Faith likewise is the measure of assurance. While faith is weak, (our Lord compares it, in its first principle, to a grain of mustard seed,) assurance cannot be strong.
Jesus Christ the Lord is a complete all-sufficient Savior. His invitation to the weary and heavy-laden is general, without exception, condition, or limitation. He has said, him who comes unto me, I will never cast out. God not only permits—but commands us to believe in the Son of his love. The apostle affirms that he is able to save to the uttermost, all who come unto God by him. When Moses raised the brazen serpent in the wilderness, the direction to the wounded Israelites was very short and simple—it was only, Look, and live! Thus the gospel addresses the sinner, Only believe, and you shall be saved.
Why then does not every sinner who is awakened to a sense of his guilt, danger, and helplessness; and whose desires are drawn towards the Savior—believe with full confidence, even upon his first application for mercy? Is not the remedy fully adequate to the malady? Is not the blood of Jesus able to cleanse from all sin? Is not the Word of the God of truth worthy of entire credit? Yet with such a Savior exhibited before the eyes of his mind, and with such promises sounding in his ears—he continues to hesitate and fluctuate between hope and fear. Could he rely as firmly on the Word of God, as he can on the word of a man, whom, he thinks, means what he says, and is able to make good his promises—he would immediately be filled with joy and peace in believing. But experience and observation may convince us, that, however rational and easy this assurance may seem in theory, it is ordinarily unattainable in practice—without passing through a train of previous exercises and conflicts.
It is true, young converts are often favored with comfortable impressions, which lead them to hope that their doubts and difficulties are already ended—when perhaps they are but just entering upon their warfare. They are brought, as it were, into a new world; a strong and lively sense of divine things engrosses their attention; the world and its fascinations sink into nothing in their esteem; the evil propensities which discourage them are overpowered for a season, and they hope they are quite subdued, and will trouble them no more. Their love, gratitude, praise, and admiration, are in vigorous exercise.
An aged, experienced Christian may recollect, with a pleasing regret, many sweet sensations of this kind, in the early stages of his profession, which he cannot recall. But he now knows that the strong confidence he felt in these golden hours was not the assurance of faith—it was temporary and transient; it was founded upon what we call a good frame. Though his comforts were strong, his faithwas weak—for, when the good frame subsided, his fears returned, his hope declined, and he was at his wits' end. Then, perhaps, he wondered at his own presumption, for daring to hope that such a creature as himself could have any right to the privileges of a believer. And if, in the warmth of his heart, he had spoken to others of what God had done for his soul, he afterwards charged himself with being a hypocrite, and a false witness both to God and man. Thus, when the Israelites saw the Egyptians, (who had pursued and terrified them,) cast up dead upon the shore of the Red Sea, they praised the Lord, and believed. They were little aware of the wilderness they had to pass through, and the trials they were to meet with—before they could enter the promised land!
But strong faith, and the effect of it, an abiding persuasion of our acceptance in the Beloved, and of our final perseverance in grace—are not necessarily connected with sensible comfort. A strong faith can trust God in the dark, and say with Job, "Though he slays me—yet will I trust in him." Yet it is not to be maintained without a diligent use of the instituted means of grace, and a conscientious attention to the precepts of the gospel. For mere notions of truth, destitute of power—will not keep the heart in peace. But this power depends upon the influence of the Holy Spirit; and if he is grieved by the willful commission of sin, or the willful neglect of the precepts—he hides his face, suspends his influence, and then confidence must proportionable decline, until he is pleased to return and revive it.
There are likewise bodily disorders, which, by depressing the physical spirits, darken and discolor the medium of our perceptions. If the enemy is permitted to take advantage of these seasons, he can pour in a flood of temptations, sufficient to fill the most assured believer with terror and dismay. But, ordinarily, those who endeavor to walk closely and conscientiously with God, attain, in due time, an assurance of hope to the end, which is not easily nor often shaken, though it is not absolutely perfect, nor can be, while so much sin and imperfection remain in us.
If it be inquired—WHY we cannot attain to this state of composure at first, since the object of faith and the promises of God are always the same? Several reasons may be assigned.
Unbelief is the primary cause of all our inquietude, from the moment that our hearts are drawn to seek salvation by Jesus. This inability to take God at his Word, should not be merely lamented as an infirmity—but watched, and prayed, and fought against as a great sin. A great sin indeed it is; the very root of our apostasy, from which every other sin proceeds. Unbelief often deceives us under the guise of humility, as though it would be presumption, in such sinners as we are, to believe the declarations of the God of truth. Many serious people, who are burdened with a sense of other sins, leave this radical evil, unbelief, out of their list of sin. They rather indulge it, and think they ought not to believe, until they can find a warrant from marks and evidences within themselves. But this is an affront to the wisdom and goodness of God, who points out to us the Son of his love—as our wisdom, righteousness, sanctification, and redemption, without any regard to what we have been, or to what we are, excepting that broken and contrite spirit—which only himself can create in us. And this broken spirit, though unbelief perverts it to our discouragement, is the very temper in which the Lord delights, and a surer evidence of true grace, than those which we are apt to contrive for ourselves. It is written, He who believes not the record which God has given of his Son, makes him a liar. Why do we not startle with horror—at the workings of unbelief, as we should do at a suggestion to commit murder, or the grossest outward enormity?
Again, our natural pride is a great hindrance to true faith. If we acknowledge ourselves to be sinners, and are sensible of our need of mercy—we are not easily brought to see that we are so totally depraved, so exceedingly vile, so utterly destitute of all good, as the Word of God describes us to be. A secret dependence upon our prayers, tears, resolutions, repentance and endeavors, prevents us from looking solely and simply to the Savior, so as to ground our whole hope for acceptance upon his obedience unto death, and his whole mediation.
A true believer will doubtless repent and pray, and forsake his former evil ways—but he is not accepted upon the account of what he does or feels—but because Jesus lived and died, and rose and reigns on the behalf of sinners, and because he is enabled by grace to trust in him for salvation.
Further, pride leads us into that spirit of vain reasoning, which is contrary to the simplicity of living by faith. Until this is renounced, until we become in some measure like little children, and receive the doctrines of Scripture implicitly, because they are from God, requiring no further proof of any point than a Thus says the Lord—we cannot be established in our hope. Naaman was very desirous to be healed of his leprosy; but, if the Lord had not mercifully overruled his prejudices, he would have returned a leper—just as he came. Before he went to Elisha, he had considered in his own mind, how the prophet ought to treat him; and not having the immediate attention paid to him that he expected, he was upon the point of going away; for his reason told him, that, if washing could effect his cure, the waters of Syria were as good as those of Jordan. "It seems," to use the words of a late ingenious writer, "that the gospel is too good to be believed, and too plain to be understood, until ourpride is abased."
It is difficult to determine, by the eye, the precise moment of day-break, but the light advances from early dawn, and the sun arises at the appointed hour. Such is the progress of divine light in the mind—the first streaks of the dawn are seldom perceived; but, by degrees, objects, until then unthought of, are revealed. The evil of sin, the danger of the soul, the reality and importance of eternal things—are apprehended, and a hope of mercy through a Savior is discovered, which prevents the sinner from sinking into absolute despair. But for a time—all is indistinct and confused.
In this state of mind, many things are anxiously sought for as pre-requisites to believing—but they are sought in vain, for it is only by believing that they can be obtained. But the light increases, the sun arises, the glory of God in the person of Jesus Christ shines in upon the soul. As the sun can only be seen by its own light, and diffuses that light by which other objects are clearly perceived; so Christ crucified is the sun in the system of revealed truth; and the right knowledge of the doctrine of his cross satisfies the inquiring mind, proves itself to be the one thing needful, and the only thing necessary to silence the objections of unbelief and pride, and to afford a sure ground for solid and abiding hope.
Once more—we cannot be safely trusted with assurance—until we have that knowledge of the evil and deceitfulness of our hearts, which can be acquired only by painful, repeated experience. The young convert, in his brighter hours, when his heart is full of joys, and he thinks his mountain stands too strong to be removed, may be compared to a ship with much sail spread, and but little ballast. She goes on well while the weather is fair—but is not prepared for a storm. When Peter said, "You have the words of eternal life—we believe and are sure that you are the Christ," and when he protested, "Though all men should forsake you—yet will not I," he undoubtedly spoke honestly; but the event showed that he did not know himself! His resolution was soon and sorely shaken in the hall of the high-priest, so that he denied his Lord with oaths and imprecations. He was left to fall—that he might learn he did not stand by his own strength.
The parable of the prodigal may be accommodated for an illustration of this point. The Scripture says, "Then shall you know—if you follow on to know the Lord." But we often want to know at first, and at once; and suppose— If I was but sure that I am right, and accepted in the Beloved, I could go on with more spirit and success. Many rejoice greatly when they seem to obtain this desire—but their joy is short-lived. They soon resemble the prodigal; they become vain, rash, and careless; they forsake their Father's house; their attention to the means of grace is slackened; they venture upon smaller deviations from the prescribed rule, which, in time, lead them to greater. Thus their stock of grace and comfort is quickly exhausted. They begin to be in need; and, after having been feasted with the bread of life, are reduced to feed upon such husks as the world can afford them. Happy, if at length they are brought to their right minds!
But, oh, with what pungent shame and humiliation do they come back to their Father! He, indeed, is always ready to receive and forgive backsliders; but surely they cannot easily forgive themselves for their ingratitude and folly! When he has healed their broken bones, and restored peace to their souls, it may be expected that they will walk softly and humbly to the end of their days, and not open their mouths any more, either to boast, or to censure, or to complain!
For, a man who possesses a Scriptural and well-grounded assurance in himself—will evidence it to others by suitable fruits. He will be meek, sincere and gentle in his conduct before men—because he is humbled and abased before God. Because he lives upon much God's forgiveness to himself—he will be ready to forgive others. The prospect of that blessed hope assuredly laid up for him in heaven—will make him patient under all his appointed trials in the present life, wean him from an attachment to the world, and preserve him from being much affected either by the smiles or the frowns of mortals. To hear people talk much of their 'assurance', and that they are freed from all doubts and fears—while they habitually indulge proud, angry, resentful, discontented tempers, or while they are eagerly grasping after the world, like those who seek their whole portion in it—is painful and disgusting to a serious Christian! Let us pity them, and pray for them; for we have great reason to fear that they do not understand what they say, nor what they affirm!
---Excerpt From The Letters of John Newton
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Faith and Assurance (J.C. Ryle, 1816-1900)

2 Timothy 4:7-8 

I have fought a good fight, I have finished my course, I have kept the faith:
Henceforth there is laid up for me a crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous judge, shall give me at that day: and not to me only, but unto all them also that love his appearing.

AN assured hope, such as Paul expresses in 2 Timothy 4:6-8, is a true and Scriptural thing. I would lay it down fully and broadly, that a true Christian, a converted man, may reach that comfortable degree of faith in Christ, that in general he shall feel entirely confident as to the pardon and safety of his soul, — shall seldom be troubled with doubts, — seldom be distracted with hesitation, — seldom be distressed by anxious questionings, — and, in short, though vexed by many an inward conflict with sin, shall look forward to death without trembling, and to judgment without dismay.
The vast majority of the worldly oppose the doctrine of assurance. That they cannot receive it is certainly no marvel. But there are also some true believers who reject assurance, or shrink from it as a doctrine fraught with danger. They think it borders on presumption. They seem to think it a proper humility never to be confident, and to live in a certain degree of doubt. This is to be regretted, and does much harm.

Presumptionsays Adams, “is joined with looseness of life; persuasion with a tender conscience: that dares sin because it is sure; this dares not for fear of losing assurance. Persuasion will not sin, because it cost her Savior so dear; presumption will sin, because grace does abound. Humility is the way to heaven. They that are proudly secure of their going to heaven, do not so often come thither as they that are afraid of going to hell.
I frankly allow there are some presumptuous persons who profess to feel a confidence for which they have no Scriptural warrant. There always are some people who think well of themselves when God thinks ill, just as there are some who think ill of themselves when God thinks well. There always will be such. There never yet was a Scriptural truth without abuses and counterfeits. God’s election, man’s impotence, salvation by grace, all are alike abused. There will be fanatics and enthusiasts as long as the world stands. But, for all this, assurance is a real, sober, and true thing; and God’s children must not let themselves be driven from the use of a truth, merely because it is abused.
Reader, you may be sure that Paul was the last man in the world to build his assurance on anything of his own. He could write himself down “chief of sinners” (1 Tim 1:15), had a deep sense of his own guilt and corruption. But then he had a still deeper sense of the length and breadth of Christ’s righteousness imputed to him. He, who would cry, “O wretched man that I am!” (Rom 7:24), had a clear view of the fountain of evil within his heart. But then he had a still clearer view of that other Fountain which removes all sin and uncleanness. He, who thought himself “less than the least of all saints” (Eph 3:8), had a lively and abiding feeling of his own weakness, but he had a still livelier feeling that Christ’s promise, “My sheep shall never perish” (John 10:28), could not be broken. Paul knew, if ever a man did, that he was a poor, frail bark, floating on a stormy ocean. He saw, if any did, the rolling waves and roaring tempest by which he was surrounded. But then he looked away from self to Jesus, and was not afraid. He remembered that anchor within the veil, which is both sure and steadfast; — he remembered the word, and work, and constant intercession of Him that loved him and gave Himself for him. And this it was, and nothing else, that enabled him to say so boldly, “A crown is laid up for me, and the Lord shall give it to me”; and to conclude so surely, “The Lord will preserve me: I shall never be confounded.”
I may not dwell longer on this part of the subject. I pass on to the second thing, viz., that a believer may never arrive at this assured hope, which Paul expresses, and yet be saved.
I grant this most freely. I do not dispute it for a moment. I would not desire to make one contrite heart sad that God has not made sad, or to discourage one fainting child of God, or to leave the impression that men have no part or lot in Christ, except they feel assurance.
A person may have saving faith in Christ, and yet never enjoy an assured hope, like the Apostle Paul. To believe and have a glimmering hope of acceptance is one thing; to have joy and peace in our believing, and abound in hope, is quite another. I think this ought never to be forgotten. I do not shrink from saying, that by grace a man may have sufficient faith to flee to Christ; sufficient faith really to lay hold on Him, really to trust in Him, — really to be a child of God, — really to be saved; and yet to his last day be never free from much anxiety, doubt and fear.
“A letter,” says an old writer, “may be written, which is not sealed; so grace may be written in the heart, yet the Spirit may not set the seal of assurance to it.”
A man may be a babe in Christ’s family; think as a babe, speak as a babe; and though saved, never enjoy a lively hope, or know the real privileges of his inheritance.
Reader, do not mistake my meaning, while you hear me dwell strongly on assurance. Do not do me the injustice to say, I told you none were saved except such as could say with Paul, “I know and am persuaded . . . there is a crown laid up for me.” I do not say so. I tell you nothing of the kind.
Faith in the Lord Jesus Christ a man must have, beyond all question, if he is to be saved. I know no other way of access to the Father. I see no intimation of mercy, excepting through Christ. A man must feel his sins and lost estate, must come to Jesus for pardon and salvation, must rest his hope on Him, and on Him alone. But if he only has faith to do this, however weak and feeble that faith may be, I will engage, from Scripture warrants, he shall not miss heaven.
Never, never let us curtail the freeness of the glorious Gospel, or clip its fair proportions. Never let us make the gate more strait and the way more narrow than pride and love of sin have made it already. The Lord Jesus is very pitiful, and of tender mercy. He does not regard the quantity of faith, but the quality. He does not measure its degree, but its truth. He will not break any bruised reed, nor quench any smoking flax. He will never let it be said that any perished at the foot of the cross. “Him that cometh unto Me,” He says, “I will in no wise cast out” (John 6:37).
Yes, reader, though a man’s faith be no bigger than a grain of mustard seed, if it only brings him to Christ, and enables him to touch the hem of His garment, he shall be saved, saved as surely as the oldest saint in paradise; saved as completely and eternally as Peter, or John, or Paul. There are degrees in our sanctification. In our justification there are none. What is written, is written, and shall never fail: “Whosoever believeth on Him,” — not whosoever has a strong and mighty faith, but, “Whosoever believeth on Him shall not be ashamed” (Rom 10:11).
But all this time, I would have you take notice, the poor soul may have no full assurance of his pardon and acceptance with God. He may be troubled with fear upon fear, and doubt upon doubt. He may have many a question, and many an anxiety, — many a struggle, and many a misgiving, — clouds and darkness, storm and tempest to the very end.
I will affirm, I repeat, that bare simple faith in Christ shall save a man, though he may never attain to assurance; but I will not affirm it shall bring him to heaven with strong and abounding consolations. I will affirm it shall land him safely in harbor; but I will not affirm that he shall enter that harbor in full sail, confident and rejoicing. I shall not be surprised if he reaches his desired haven weather-beaten and tempest-tossed, scarcely realizing his own safety, till he opens his eyes in glory.
Reader, I believe it is of great importance to keep in view the distinction between faith and assurance. It explains things which an inquirer in religion sometimes finds hard to understand.
Faith, let us remember, is the root, and assurance is the flower. Doubtless, you can never have the flower without the root; but it is no less certain you may have the root and not the flower.
Faith is that poor trembling woman who came behind Jesus in the press and touched the hem of His garment (Mark 5:27). Assurance is Stephen standing calmly in the midst of his murderers, and saving, “I see the heavens opened, and the Son of man standing on the right hand of God!”
Faith is the penitent thief, crying, “Lord, remember me” (Luke 23:42). Assurance is Job, sitting in the dust, covered with sores, and saying, “I know that my Redeemer liveth” (Job 19:25). “Though He slay me, yet will I trust in Him” (Job 13:15).
Faith is Peter’s drowning cry, as he began to sink: Lord, save me” (Matt 14:30). Assurance is that same Peter declaring before the Council in after times, “This is the stone which was set at nought of you builders, which is become the head of the corner. Neither is there salvation in any other; for there is none other name under heaven given among men, whereby we must be saved”(Acts 4:11-12).
Faith is the anxious, trembling voice, “Lord, I believe; help Thou mine unbelief” (Mark 9:24). Assurance is the confident challenge, “Who shall lay anything to the charge of God’s elect? . . . Who is he that condemneth?” (Rom 8:33,34).
Faith is Saul praying in the house of Judas at Damascus, sorrowful, blind, and alone (Acts 9:11). Assurance is Paul, the aged prisoner, looking calmly into the grave, and saying, “I know whom I have believed . . . There is a crown laid up for me” (2 Tim 1:12, 4:8).
Faith is life. How great the blessing! Who can tell the gulf between life and death? And yet life may be weak, sickly, unhealthy, painful, trying, anxious, worn, burdensome, joyless, smileless to the very end.
Assurance is more than life. It is health, strength, power, vigor, activity, energy, manliness, beauty.
Reader, it is not a question of saved or not saved that lies before us, but of privilege or no privilege. It is not a question of peace or no peace, but of great peace or little peace. It is not a question between the wanderers of this world and the school of Christ: it is one that belongs only to the school: — it is between the first form and the last.
He that has faith does well. Happy should I be, if I thought all readers of this article had it. Blessed, thrice blessed are they that believe. They are safe. They are washed. They are justified. They are beyond the power of hell. Satan, with all his malice, shall never pluck them out of Christ’s hand.
But he that has assurance does far better, — sees more, feels more, knows more, enjoys more, has more days like those spoken of in Deuteronomy 11:21, even “as the days of heaven upon the earth.”

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Assurance of Salvation (Horatius Bonar, 1808-1889)

Assurance of Salvation
”Christ for us,” the obedient in the place of the disobedient, is the first part of our message. His assumption of the legal claims, which otherwise would have been made good against us, is the security for our deliverance. That deliverance becomes an actual thing to us immediately upon our consenting to allow him to undertake our case.
“Christ in us” is the second part of our Gospel. This second is of mighty moment, and yet is not to be confounded with the first. That which is done for us is not the same as that which is done in us. By the former we are constituted righteous, by the latter we are made holy. The one is properly the Gospel, in the belief of which we are saved; the other, the carrying out of that Gospel in the soul. Christ “for us” is our justification. “Christ in us, and we in Christ,” is our holiness. The former is the external substitution; the latter, the internal energy or operation, taking its rise from the former, yet not to be confounded with it, or substituted for it. Christ the substitute, giving his life for ours upon the cross, is specially the object of faith. The message concerning this sacrificial work is the Gospel, the belief which brings pardon to the guilty. God has given us this Gospel not merely for the purpose of securing to us life hereafter, but of making us sure of this life even now. It is a true and sure Gospel; so that he who believes it is made sure of being saved. If it could not make us sure, it would make us miserable; for to be told of such a salvation and such a glory, yet kept in doubt as to whether they are to be ours or not, must render us truly wretched. What a poor Gospel it must be, which leaves the man who believes it still in doubt as to whether he is a child of God, an unpardoned or a pardoned sinner! Till we have found forgiveness, we cannot be happy; we cannot serve God gladly or lovingly; but must be in sore bondage and gloom. This is the view of the matter which Scripture sets before us; telling us that salvation is a free, a sure, and a present gift. “He that believes is justified” (Acts 13:39). “He that believes has everlasting life” (John 3:36). The Bible gives no quarter to unbelief or doubting. It does not call it humility. It does not teach us to think better of ourselves for doubting. It does not countenance uncertainty or darkness.
The Reformation
This was the view taken of the subject by our fathers, from the Reformation downwards. They held that a man ought to know that he is justified; and that it was Popery to teach uncertainty, or to set aside the full assurance of faith, or to hold that this sureness was not to be had from the beginning of a man’s conversion, but only to be gathered up in process of years, by summing up his good feelings and good deeds, and concluding from his own excellences that he must be one of the elect, a man in favor with God. Our fathers believed that the jailor at Philippi rejoiced as soon as he received the good news which Paul preached to him (Acts 16:34). Our fathers believed that, “being justified by faith, we HAVE peace with God” (Romans 5:1), and that the life of a believing man is a life of known pardon; a life of peace with God; a life of which the outset was the settlement of the great question between himself and God; a life in which, as being a walk with God, the settlement of that question did not admit of being deferred or kept doubtful: for without felt agreement, without conscious reconciliation, intercourse was impossible. All the Reformation creeds and confessions take this for granted; assuming that the doctrine of uncertainty was one of the worst lies of Popery, the device and stronghold of a money-loving priesthood, who wished to keep people in suspense in order to make room for the dealings of priests and payments for pardon. If assurance be the right of every man who believes, then the priest’s occupation is at an end; his craft is not only in danger, but gone. It was the want of assurance in his poor victims that enabled him to drive so prosperous a trade, and to coin money out of people’s doubts. It was by this craft he had his wealth, and hence the hatred with which Rome and her priests have always hated the doctrine of assurance. It took the bread out of their mouths. If God pardons so freely, so simply, so surely, so immediately upon believing, alas for the priesthood! Who will pay them for absolution? Who will go to them to make sure that which God has already made sure in a more excellent way than theirs?
Roman Catholicism
Romanists have always maintained that assurance is presumption; and it is remarkable that they quote, in defense of their opinion, the same passages which many modern Protestants do, such as, “Work out your salvation with fear and trembling;” the apostle’s expression about being “a castaway;” “Let him that thinks he stands;” and the like. One of them, in reasoning with one of the English Reformers, speaks of “the presumptuous opinion of the certainty of grace and salvation, contrary to that which St. Paul counselleth, Philippians 2:12;” and the great Romish controversialists give the following reasons against assurance, which we abridge and translate:
  1. No man certainly ought to disbelieve God’s mercy and Christ’s merits; but on account of his own imperfections, he ought to be fearful about his own grace, so that no one can certainly know that he has found favor with God.
  2. It is not expedient that men should have certainty about their own grace; for certainty produces pride, while ignorance of this secret preserves and increases humility.
  3.  Assurance is the privilege of only a few favored ones, to whom God has revealed the singular benefit of the pardon of their sins.
  4. The most perfect men, when dying, have been humbled because of this uncertainty; and if some of the holiest men have been uncertain, is it credible that all believers ought to have assurance of their justification?
  5. The best men may fall from faith; therefore there can be no assurance.
  6. The following passages confute the error of assurance: 1 Corinthians 10:12; 2 Corinthians 6:1; Romans 11:20; Philippians 2:12.
Such are the Popish arguments against assurance, and the conclusion to which the Council of Trent came was: “If any man shall say that justifying faith is confidence in the mercy of God, who remitteth sins for Christ’s sake, or that it is by such confidence alone that we are justified, let him be accursed.” Old John Foxe, who three hundred years ago wrote the history of the martyrs, remarks concerning the Pope’s church, that it “left the poor consciences of men in perpetual doubt” (vol. 1, p. 78). This is a true saying. But it is true of many who earnestly protest against the Church of Rome. They not only teach doctrines which necessarily lead to doubting, and out of which no poor sinner could extract anything but uncertainty; but they inculcate doubting as a humble and excellent thing; a good preparation, nay, an indispensable qualification, for faith. The duty of doubting is in their theology much more obligatory than that of believing. The propriety and necessity of being uncertain they strongly insist upon; the blessedness of certainty they undervalue; the sinfulness of uncertainty they repudiate; the duty of being sure they deny. This same John Foxe, after showing that a man is saved not by working, but by believing, gives us the following specimen of “the horrible blindness and blasphemy” of the Church of Rome:
That faith wherewith a man firmly believeth and certainly assureth himself, that for Christ’s sake his sins be forgiven him, and that he shall possess eternal life, is not faith, but rashness; not the persuasion of the Holy Ghost, but the presumption of human audacity.
The above extract is from a Popish book of the time, and is a fair specimen of the Romish hatred of the doctrine of assurance. Its language is almost the same as that employed by many Protestants of our day. The Romanists held that a man is to believe in the mercy of God and the merits of Christ, but that this belief brought with it no assurance of justification; though possibly, if the man lived a very holy life, God might before he died reveal his grace to him, and give him assurance; which is precisely what many Protestants hold.
In opposition to this, our forefathers not only maintained that a man is justified by faith, but that he ought to know that he is justified, and that this knowledge of justification is the great root of a holy life. The Romanists did not quarrel with the word assurance; they did not hold it to be impossible: They held that men might get it, nay, that some very holy men had got it. But they affirmed that the only means of reaching the grace of assurance was by a holy life; that with the slow development of a holy life, assurance might develop itself, and that in the course of years, a man by numbering his good deeds, and ascertaining the amount of his holiness, might perhaps come to the conclusion that he was a child of God; but perhaps not. They were very strenuous in contending for this life of religious suspense, sad and dismal as it must be; because conscious justification, such as Luther contended for, shut out priesthood and penance; giving a man the joy of true liberty and divine fellowship at once, without the intervention of another party or the delay of an hour. This conscious justification started the man upon a happy life, because relieved from the burden of doubt and the gloom of uncertainty; it made his religion bright and tranquil, because springing so sweetly from the certainty of his reconciliation to God; it delivered him from the cruel suspense and undefined fears which the want of assurance carries always with it; it rescued him from all temptations to self-righteousness, because not arising from any good thing in himself, it preserved him from pride and presumption, because it kept him from trying to magnify his own goodness in order to extract assurance out of it; it drew him away from self to Christ, from what he was doing to what Christ had done; thus making Christ, not self, the basis and the center of his new being; it made him more and more dissatisfied with self, and all that self contained, but more and more satisfied with Jesus and his fulness; it taught him to rest his confidence toward God, not on his satisfaction with self, not on the development of his own holiness, not on the amount of his graces and prayers and doings, but simply on the complete work of him in whom God is well pleased.
The Romanists acquiesced in the general formula of the Protestants, that salvation was all of Christ, and that we are to believe on him in order to get it. But they resisted the idea that a man, on believing, knows that he is saved. They might even have admitted the terms “justification by faith,” provided it was conceded that this justification was to be known only to God, hidden from the sinner who believes. They did not much heed the mere form of words, and some of them went apparently a long way to the Protestant doctrine. But that which was essential to their system was, that in whatever way justification took place, it should be kept secret from the sinner himself, so that he should remain without assurance for years, perhaps all his life. Unconscious justificationby faith suited their system of darkness quite as well as justification by works. For it was not merely the kind of justification that they hated, but the sinner’s knowing it, and having peace with God simply in believing, without waiting for years of doing. No doubt they objected to free justification in the Protestant sense; but the force of their objection lies not so much against its being free, as against the sinner being sure of it. For they saw well enough that if they could only introduce uncertainty at any part of the process, their end was gained. For to remove such uncertainty the Church must be called in; and this was all they wanted.
The doctrine, then, that makes uncertainty necessary, and that affirms that this uncertainty can only be removed by the development of a holy life, is the old Popish one, though uttered by Protestants. Luther condemned it; Bellarmine maintained it. And many of the modern objections to assurance, on the part of some Protestants, are a mere reproduction of old Romish arguments, urged again and again, against justification by faith. There is hardly one objection made to a man’s being sure of his justification which would not apply, and which have not been applied, against his bring justified by faith at all. If the common arguments against assurance turn out valid, they cannot stop short of establishing justification by works. Salvation by believing, and assurance only by means of working, are not very compatible. The interval, which is thus created between God’s act of justifying us, and his letting us know that he has justified us, is a singular one, of which Scripture certainly takes no cognizance. This interval of suspense (be it longer or shorter) which Romanists have created for the purpose of giving full scope to priestly interposition, and which some Protestants keep up in order to save us from pride and presumption, is not acknowledged in the Bible any more than purgatory. An intermediate state in the life to come, during which the soul is neither pardoned nor unpardoned, neither in Heaven nor Hell, is thought needful by Romanists for purging out sin and developing holiness; but then this interval of gloom is one of man’s creation. An intermediate state in this life, during which a sinner, though believing in Jesus, is not to know whether he is justified or not, is reckoned equally needful by some Protestants, as a necessary means of producing holiness, and through holiness leading perhaps ere life close to assurance; but then of this sorrowful interval, this present purgatory, which would make a Christian’s life so dreary and fearful, the Scripture says nothing. It is a human delusion borrowed from Popery, and based upon the dislike of the human heart to have immediate peace, immediate adoption, and immediate fellowship. The self-righteous heart of man craves an interval of the above kind as a space for the exercise of his religiousness, while free from the responsibility for a holy and unworldly life which conscious justification imposes on the conscience.
But it will be greatly worth our while to see what Romanists have said upon this subject; for their errors help us much in understanding the truth. It will be seen that it was against present peace with God that Rome contended; and that it was in defense of this present peace, this immediate certainty, that the Reformers did battle so strenuously, as a matter of life and death. The great Popish Assembly, the “Council of Trent” in 1547, took up these points concerning faith and grace. Nor was that body content with condemning assurance; they proclaimed it an accursed thing, and pronounced an anathema against every one who affirmed that justifying faith is “confidence in the mercy of God.” They denounced the man as a heretic who should hold “the confidence and certainty of the remission of his sins.” Yet they had a theory of a justification by faith. We give it in their own words, as it corresponds strikingly with the process which is prescribed by some Protestants as the means of arriving, after long years, at the knowledge of our justification:
The beginning of justification proceedeth from preventing grace. The manner of the preparation is, first to believe the divine revelations and promises, and knowing oneself to be a sinner, to turn from the fear of God’s justice to his mercy, to hope for pardon from him, and therefore to begin to love him and hate sin, to begin a new life, and keep the commandments of God. Justification follows this preparation.
This theory of a gradual justification, or a gradual approach to justification, is that held by many Protestants, and made use of by them for resisting the truth of immediate forgiveness of sin and peace with God.
Then comes another sentence of the Council, which expresses truly the modem theory of non-assurance, and the common excuse for doubting, when men say, “We are not doubting Christ, we are only doubting ourselves.” The Romish divines assert:
No one ought to doubt the mercy of God, the merits of Christ, and the efficacy of the sacraments; but in regard to his own indisposition he may doubt, because he cannot know by certainly of infallible faith, that he has obtained grace.
Here sinners are taught to believe in God’s mercy and in Christ’s merits, yet still to go on doubting as to the results of that belief, namely, sure peace with God. Truly self-righteousness, whether resting on works or on feelings, whether in Popery or Protestantism, is the same thing, and the root of the same errors, and the source of the same determination not to allow immediate certainty to the sinner from the belief of the good news. This Popish council took special care that the doctrine of assurance should be served with their most pointed curses. All the “errors of Martin” were by them traced back to this twofold root, that a man is justified by faith, and that he ought to know that he is justified. They thus accuse the German Reformer of inventing his doctrine of immediate and conscious justification for the purpose of destroying the sinner’s works of repentance, which by their necessary imperfection make room for indulgences. They call this free justification, a thing unheard of before – a thing which not only makes good works unnecessary, but sets a man free from any obligation to obey the law of God. It would appear that the learned doctors of the Council were bewildered with the Lutheran doctrine. The schoolmen had never discussed it, nor even stated it. It had no place either among the beliefs or misbeliefs of the past. It had not been maintained as a truth, nor impugned as a heresy, so far as they knew. It was an absolute novelty. They did not comprehend it, and of course misrepresented it. As to original sin, that had been so often discussed by the schoolmen, that all Romish divines and priests were familiar with it in one aspect or another. On it, therefore, the Council were at home, and could frame their curses easily, and with some point. But the Lutheran doctrine of justification brought them to a stand. Thus the old translator of Paul Sarpi’s History puts it:
The opinion of Luther concerning justifying faith, that it is a confidence and certain persuasion of the promise of God, with the consequences that follow, of the distinction between the law and the gospel, etc., had never been thought of by any school writers, and therefore never confuted or discussed, so that the divines had work enough to understand the meaning of the Lutheran propositions.
Luther’s doctrine of the will’s bondage they were indignant at, as making man a stone or a machine. His doctrine of righteousness by faith horrified them, as the inlet of all laxity and wickedness. Protestant doctrines were to them absurdities no less than heresies. Nor was it merely the Church, the Fathers, and tradition that they stood upon. The schools and the schoolmen! This was their watchword; for hitherto these scholastic doctors had been, at least for centuries, the body-guard of the church. Under their learning and subtleties and casuistries, priests and bishops had always taken refuge. Indeed, without them, the Roman Church was helpless, as far as logic was concerned. When she had to argue, she must call in these metaphysical divines; though generally by force and terror she contrived to supersede all necessity for reasoning. Three men in the Council showed some independence: a Dominican friar, by name Ambrosius Catarinus; a Spanish Franciscan, by name Andreas de Vega; and a Carmelite, by name Antoninus Marinarus. The “Heremites” of the order to which Luther originally belonged were especially blind and bitter, their leader Seripandus outdoing all in zeal against Luther and his heresy.
Paul and Luther
Compelled, in the investigation of the subject, to pass beyond Luther to Luther’s Master, they were sorely puzzled. To overlook him was impossible, for the Protestants appealed to him; to condemn him would not have been wise. They were obliged to admit the bitter truth that Paul had said that a man is justified by faith. They had maintained the strict literality of “This is my body;” must they admit the equal literality of “justified by faith”? Or may this latter expression not be qualified and overlaid by scholastic ingenuity, or set aside by an authoritative denial in the name of the Church? At the Council of Trent both these methods were tried. It was not Luther only who laid such stress upon the doctrineof free justification. His adversaries were wise enough to do the sime. They saw in it the root or foundation-stone of the whole Reformation. If it falls, Popery stands erect, and may do what she pleases with the consciences of men. If it stands, Popery is overthrown; her hold on men’s consciences is gone; her priestly power is at an end, and men have directly to do with the Lord JesusChrist in Heaven, and not with any pretended vicar upon Earth, or any of his priests or seven sacraments. “All the errors of Martin are resolved into that point,” said the bishops of the Council; and they added, “He that will establish the [Roman] Catholic doctrine must overthrow the heresy of righteousness by faith only.”
But did not Paul say the same thing as Luther has said? Did he not say, “To him that works not, but believes on him that justifies the ungodly, his faith is counted for righteousness”? (Romans 4:20). Yes; but we may use some liberties with Paul’s words, which we cannot do with Luther’s. It would not do to refute Paul; but it is quite safe to demonstrate that Luther is wrong, and is at variance with the [Roman] Church. Let us then assail Luther, and leave Paul alone. Now Luther has said such things as the following:
  1. Faith without works is sufficient for salvation, and alone justifies.
  2. Justifying faith is a sure trust, by which one believes that his sins are remitted for Christ’s sake; and they that are justified are to believe certainly that their sins are remitted.
  3. By faith only we are able to appear before God, who neither regards nor has need of our works; faith only purifying us.
  4. No previous disposition is necessary to justification; neither does faith justify because it disposes us, but because it is a means or instrument by which the promise and grace of God are laid hold on and received.
  5. All the works of men, even the most sanctified, are sin.
  6. Though the just ought to believe that his works are sins, yet he ought to be assured that they are not imputed.
  7. Our righteousness is nothing but the imputation of the righteousness of Christ; and the just have need of a continual justification and imputation of the righteousness of Christ.
  8. All the justified are received into equal grace and glory; and all Christians are equally great with the Mother of God, and as much saints as she.
These were some of Luther’s propositions which required to be confuted. That they looked wonderfully like the doctrines of the Apostle Paul only made the confutation more necessary.
That “faith justifies,” the bishops said, we must admit, because the apostle has said so; but as to what faith is, and how it justifies, is hard to say. Faith has many meanings (some said nine, others fifteen; some modern Protestants have said the same); and then, even admitting that faith justifies, it cannot do so without good dispositions, without penance, without religious performances, without sacraments. By introducing all these ingredients into faith, they easily turned it into a work; or by placing them on the same level with faith, they nullified (without positively denying) justification by faith. Ingenious men! Thus to overthrow the truth, while professing to admit and explain it!
In this ingenious perversity, they have had many successors, and that in churches which rejected Rome and its Council. “Christ crucified” is the burden of the message which God has sent to man. “Christ died for our sins, according to the Scriptures.” The reception of this Gospel is eternal life; and non-reception or rejection of it is everlasting death. “This is the record, that God has given to us eternal life, and this life is in his Son.” The belief of the Gospel saves; the belief of the promise annexed to that Gospel makes us sure of this salvation personally. It is not the belief of our belief that assures us of pardon, and gives us a good conscience towards God; but our belief of what God has promised to every one who believes his Gospel – that is eternal life. “Believe in the Lord Jesus Christ, and you shall be saved.”
What is God to me? That is the first question that rises up to an inquiring soul. And the second is like unto it – What am I to God? On these two questions hangs all religion, as well as all joy and life to the immortal spirit. If God is for me, and I am for God, all is well. If God is not for me, and if I am not for God, all is ill (Romans 8:31). If he takes my side, and if I take his, there is nothing to fear, either in this world or in that which is to come. If he is not on my side, and if I am not on his, then what can I do but fear? Terror in such a case must be as natural and inevitable as in a burning house or a sinking vessel. Or, if I do not know whether God is for me or not, I can have no rest. In a matter such as this, my soul seeks certainty, not uncertainty. I must know that God is for me, else I must remain in the sadness of unrest and terror. Insofar as my actual safety is concerned, everything depends on God being for me; and insofar as my present peace is concerned, everything depends on my knowing that God is for me. Nothing can calm the tempest of my soul, save the knowledge that I am his, and that he is mine.
Thus the questions about assurance resolve themselves into that of the knowledge of our relationship to God. To an Arminian, who denies election and the perseverance ot the saints, the knowledge of our present reconciliation to God might bring with it no assurance of final salvation; for, according to him, we may be in reconciliation today, and out of it tomorrow; but to a Calvinist there can be no such separation. He who is once reconciled is reconciled forever; and the knowledge of filial relationship just now is the assurance of eternal salvation. Indeed, apart from God’s electing love, there can be no such thing as assurance. It becomes an impossibility. Assurance does not save us; and they have erred who have spoken of assurance as indispensable to salvation. For we are not saved by believing in our own salvation, nor by believing anything whatsoever about ourselves. We are saved by what we believe about the Son of God and his righteousness. The Gospel believed saves; not the believing in our own faith.
---This essay is taken from Chapter 9 of Horatius Bonar’s The Everlasting Righteousness
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