The Believer's Happiness (James Smith, 1860)

Job 23:3

“Oh that I knew where I might find him! that I might come even to his seat!” 

The believer's happiness consists very much in the presence of God, and a sense of His love. His happiness is not in place, or circumstances, or friends — but in God Himself as revealed in Jesus.
Anywhere, 
at any time,
in any condition, 
alone or in any company,
we can be happy — if we realize that God is present, and can enter into communion with Him.

Real religion always . . .
  centers in God, 
  feasts on God, and 
  is satisfied with God alone. 

The teachings of the Holy Spirit brings us away from other sources of peace and satisfaction — to God alone. And in God, as made known in Jesus, we find . . .
  all we want,  
  all we wish, 
  all we can enjoy!
"You have made known to me the path of life; You will fill me with joy in Your presence, with eternal pleasures at Your right hand!" Psalm 16:11. Oh, blessed thought! Having been brought to set our hearts on God, to find our happiness in God — soon, very soon, we shall enjoy His perfect, perpetual presence; and shall never more sigh, or cry, "Oh, that I knew where I might find HIM!"

1 Thessalonians 4:17

“Then we which are alive and remain shall be caught up together with them in the clouds, to meet the Lord in the air: and so shall we ever be with the Lord.” 

James Smith, "The Loved One Absent"

https://www.gracegems.org/

The Two Natures in a Believer ( J. C. Philpot)

Among those branches of divine truth which, without special teaching, we cannot enter into, is, that of the two natures in a believer. And yet, though every child of God must in all ages have been experimentally acquainted with the inward conflict between flesh and spirit, nature and grace; and though authors innumerable have written on such subjects as sanctification, the trial of faith, the strength of grace, the power of sin, the deceitfulness of the heart, the commencement and progress, decline and restoration, of the life of God in the soul, yet how few even of these really spiritual and experimental writers have laid out the truth of the case as made known in the Scriptures, and felt in the experience of the saints! How blind have many gracious writers, as, for instance, Dr. Owen, and most of the Puritan authors, been to the distinctness of flesh and spirit! In fact, as it seems to us, many good men have been afraid of the real, actual truth. Our Puritan ancestors especially, living in a day when profanity and ungodliness ran down the streets like water, and holiness, therefore, of heart and life was powerfully urged as the distinctive feature of the children of God, intuitively shrank from anything that seemed in its faintest coloring opposed to their view of gospel sanctification. They feared to believe, and dreaded to proclaim, that "the carnal mind is enmity against God; that it is not subject to the law of God, neither indeed could be." They seemed to think, if they once admitted that the flesh, the carnal mind, underwent no spiritual change; in other words, could not be sanctified; it was opening a wide and open door to the worst Antinomianism. There is a distinction between "the flesh" and "the carnal mind." The flesh is the corrupt principle itself: the carnal mind is the breathing, moving, and acting of the corrupt principle. The flesh is, as it were, the body, the carnal mind the soul of sin; the flesh is the still atmosphere, pregnant with disease and death; the carnal mind is the same air in motion, carrying with it the noisome pestilence; the flesh is a giant, but lying down or asleep; the carnal mind is the giant awake and hurling his weapons of defiance against heaven and earth. On no one point, it may be remarked, are the minds of men professing some measure of truth so sensitive as upon that of the believer's personal sanctification. You may be three parts an Arminian, and four-fifths of a Pharisee, and men will speak well of you and of your religion; no, many even of God's children will think favorably of you. But be in their eyes one-tenth of an Antinomian, and they will unchristianise you in a moment, if you had the experience of Hart, the gifts of Huntington, the godly life of Romaine, and the blessed death of Toplady. Now, nothing so much exposes a man to the suspicion of secret Antinomianism as his denying the sanctification of the flesh. The cry is at once raised, "You are an enemy to holiness; you turn the grace of God into licentiousness; you allow people to live as they list; you encourage men under a profession of religion to continue in sin." Who does not know the charges which they ring on this peal of bells against all who assert that the flesh is incurably corrupt, and cannot be molded afresh, or new modeled, or sanctified, or conformed to the image of Christ, but remains to the last what it was at the first, "the old man which is corrupt according to the deceitful lusts?" We may oppose to these clamorous reproaches a godly life, a gospel walk, a spiritual mindedness, a heavenly conversation, a filial fear, a tender conscience, a separation from evil, a liberality to the poor and needy, and a deadness to the world of which our opponents profess little and manifest less; but all in vain. The very suspicion that we deny the holiness of the flesh, present or possible, makes us viewed by most of the "very religious" people of our day much as the Protestant heretic is looked upon by the staunch Papist—a kind of horrid being, who may, perhaps, by a death-bed conversion to their views, and a full recantation of his own, escape hell, but who, at present, is in a very awful and dangerous condition. But leaving these poor ignorant creatures who speak evil of things that they know not, and who are actuated by much the same principle and spirit as those of old who said of the Lord himself, "He has a devil, and is mad; why hear you him?" let us look for a few moments at a very different class of people to whom the mystery of the two natures is but little known. These are the honest and sincere, the tender in conscience and broken in heart of the children of God, who, for want of divine light on this point, are often deeply tried and perplexed, and sometimes almost at their wit's end from what they feel of the inward workings and strength of sin. They are told, and their naturally religious mind, their traditionary creed, and their unenlightened understanding, all fully fall in with what they hear enforced on their conscience, that the sanctification of the soul, without which there is no salvation, is a gradual progress from one degree of holiness to another, until, with the exception of a few insignificant "remains" of sin, which, from some unknown cause, obstinately resist the sanctifying process, the believer becomes thoroughly holy, in body, soul, and spirit. Sin, they are told, may occasionally stir up a bad thought or two, or now and then a carnal desire may most unaccountably start up; but its power is destroyed, the rebellious movement is immediately subdued, the hasty spark, which straight is cool again, is put out at once without further damage, and the process of sanctification keeps going on as harmoniously and uninterruptedly as before, until the soul is almost as fit for heaven as if it were already there. Beautiful theory! but as deceptive and as unsubstantial as the mirage of the desert, or the summer evening cloud bathed in the golden glow of the sinking sun. And so those sincere, honest-hearted children of God find and feel when "the motions of sin which are by the law," stirred and roused from their torpid inactivity by its application, work in their members to bring forth fruit unto death. The doctrine of progressive sanctification, implying, as it does, in the mouth of its strenuous advocates, the gradual extirpation of sin and the molding of the carnal mind into the image of Christ, is to the honest and tender conscience a torturing doctrine, pregnant with guilt, bondage, and despair. To a man who merely plays with religion, all doctrines are pretty much alike. None cause him trouble, and none cause him joy. The holiness of God, the spirituality and curse of the law, the evil of sin, the helplessness of the creature, the sinfulness of the flesh, the deceitfulness and desperate wickedness of the heart, as long as they are mere doctrines, have no more effect upon the conscience than a narrative of the battle of Alma or an account of the fight at Inkermann. To a professor of religion dead in his unregeneracy, the fall of man is nothing like so stirring as the fall of Sebastopol; and the recovery by Christ does not give him half so much pleasure as the recovery from a bad cold. These are the men to preach progressive sanctification; and none urge it so continually, and press it so forcibly, except, perhaps, those that are living in sin, who are usually the greatest advocates for holiness, either as a mask of their practice, or on the principle of a set off, that, having none of their own, they may get as much as they can of other people's. "In for a penny, in for a pound," is the maxim of a man who runs into debt without meaning to pay. And so, if a man means to pay God nothing of the obedience and holiness which he urges upon others, he thinks he cannot do better than get into debt as deep as he can. None set the ladder so high as the master who stops at the foot, and urges his man on to the topmost round. None lay such heavy burdens on men's shoulders as those who themselves never touch them with one of their fingers; and none wield so unmercifully the whip as those who have never felt the end of the lash. To all such miserable taskmasters the tried and distressed in soul may well say, "What is play to you is death to us; you are in jest, but we are in earnest; you are at your ease, we are laboring to attain unto what you only talk about. The holiness that you are preaching we are striving to practice. Your flashes of exhortation are but summer lightning, and your denunciations but stage thunder; while we are at the foot of the mount that burned with fire, and where there was blackness and darkness and tempest. The sanctification of the flesh that you urge may do for you who have learned your lesson at the academy, and preach what you neither know, nor understand, nor feel—blind leaders of the blind, as you and your tutors are. Such a doctrine lies with no more weight on your conscience than the preacher's gown upon your back, or the gold ring upon your little finger; but it is not so with us, who are daily and hourly groaning beneath a body of sin and death. It is the load of sin that so deeply tries us, and our utter inability to bring forth the holiness that you urge upon our sore and bleeding consciences. It is our base backslidings, our sins against love and blood, our barrenness and deadness; the dreadful depravity of our hearts; our getting every day worse instead of getting every day better, that so deeply tries us: and your doctrine rubs salt into our bleeding, gaping wounds." To such tried and distressed souls as these, who have been harassed almost to death by the doctrine of progressive sanctification, how reviving and encouraging it is when the mystery of the two natures is opened up to their spiritual understanding, and sealed upon their conscience by the Blessed Spirit! https://www.gracegems.org/

The Glorious Prospects of the Believer

1 Corinthians 2:9

“But as it is written, Eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, neither have entered into the heart of man, the things which God hath prepared for them that love him.” 

The believer in Christ must of necessity be a happy man. Though like the Master whom he loves- and loving, he serves- his path in some places may be paved with flint, or fenced with briar, yet amid it all, fed from the fullness of Christ and living upon the supply of the covenant, yes, upon the God of the covenant, he is, and he must be, a truly happy man. Beloved reader, we live below, far below our spiritual privileges. We claim not all the blessings of our birth-right, which, in this present time-state, are ours to enjoy. And if we rise not to the experience of what God has provided and promised for us now, what marvel that we so faintly imagine, and yet more faintly realize, the glories prepared for us hereafter. To a brief meditation upon these future glories this chapter invites you. And may the Eternal Spirit so cause us to see them with the glass of faith- the believer's telescope- as they are revealed in the word, as to fill our souls with heavenly and ardent desire for them.

What animating words are those which suggest the theme of our present reflections! It would, however, be doing violence to the text, and injustice to the Holy Spirit of truth, not to remark that there is undoubtedly a reference to the present blessedness as well as to the futureprospects of believers. The Apostle primarily alludes to the doctrines of grace and to the mysteries of the Gospel, as inconceivable by, and as veiled to, the 'princes of this world:' and then adds, "But God has revealed them unto us by His Spirit; for the Spirit searches all things, yes, the deep things of God." But as the present blessings and the future blessedness of believers are so closely connected, not only with each other, but in the experience of the child of God, we cannot well contemplate the one without carrying forward our thoughts to the other. It is with the glorious prospects of the saints of God we at present have especially to do. "Eye has not seen, nor ear heard, neither have entered into the heart of man, the things which God has prepared for those who love him."

It is of the greatest moment that we clearly understand FOR WHOM THIS FUTURE GLORY IS PREPARED. "Those who love Him." To such only does heaven unfold its gates of pearl. What, reader, are your pretensions to this character? Those who in reality love God form but a small portion of the human family. The great mass are lovers of self, lovers of pleasure, lovers of sin, rather than lovers of God. The fearful and universal characteristic of the unrenewed mind is enmity, and not love, to God. "The carnal mind is enmity against God." The word of God makes no exception in favor of those who say that they love God, or who profess that they love him, or whose creed is orthodox, or whose lives are fair, or who, according to the world's estimate, are deemed 'religious.' If there be lacking this essential element, this crowning grace of true religion- love to God- all is lacking. "Though I have the gift of prophecy, and understand all mysteries, and all knowledge; and though I have all faith, so that I could remove mountains, but have not love, it profits me nothing."

But what an expressive and honorable designation is this- a designation belonging to all the people of God- "those who love him!" In this quality are merged all other and inferior distinctions of birth, and wealth, and learning, and power; and the one character, the one badge, the one style and title of all is- love to God. This is the one soul; animating, pervading, and assimilating the members of the one body, the children of the one family.

Love to God is a Divine emotion, implanted in the human heart, corresponding in its nature and quality with its Divine and holy Object. It is a moral affection inspired by the perfection of moral beauty. God is a perfect Being. "In him is no darkness at all"- neither intellectual nor spiritual. "There is no unrighteousness in him." He is the perfection of all perfection. Who can set forth the Almighty to perfection? He must be infinite in his powers of conception and description who can do it. All finite imagination droops, and thought expires, and language fails, and imagery fades, in the attempt to describe what God is. And yet He is sufficiently revealed in the word, and embodied in Jesus, to be known, and known to be loved. Love to Him constitutes the essence of true godliness. A religion that has not love to God as its great principle, its grand requirement, its supreme end, is, and must be, false. It supposes another and a higher object of affection. It enthrones upon the heart a sovereign, and recognizes a government antagonist to Jehovah's. It, in fact, supposes the existence of another God- for whatever object supplants Him in the affections of the creature, whatever divides the heart with, and alienates it from, Himself, is in direct opposition to the Divine law, and 'as God sits in the temple of God, showing itself that it is God.' "You shall have no other God but me."

In nothing has God acted more worthily of His nature than in constituting love as the soul and essence of religion, and Himself its supreme Object. In doing so, He has as much consulted the happiness of the creature as His own honor; as much our benefit as His glory. Indeed it would seem as if, in enjoining the obligation, in issuing the requirement, "You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind," He had a view to our happiness beyond every other end. Apart from the honor which accrues to Him from our obedience to this precept, what advantage can He derive from our affection? Himself the infinite sea of love, full to the eternal satisfaction of His own nature, what good could arise to Him from the tribute of affection poured from every heart? But He would bring us to a more perfect enjoyment of Himself by bringing us to love Him with a supreme affection. He who loves God, walks with God, dwells with God, is like God. He has not far to travel in order to find God. Let him look within upon his own tranquil conscience, let him wander through the illuminated chambers of his own soul, and there, in finding love, he finds God. If love is not there, neither is God there; for where love is, there is God enthroned upon the heart. "God is love; and he that dwells in love dwells in God, and God in him."

It is, then, the great characteristic of true believers that they love God. Their love embraces each person in the Godhead. They love the father- for to Him they are indebted for His unspeakable gift. They love the Son- for to Him they owe their redemption. They love the Spirit- for, having renewed them, He dwells in them forever as His temple. Such are all the children of God. O the blessedness they feel in loving God in Christ! O the happiness that springs from this divine, this heavenly emotion, expanding, purifying, and ennobling the soul! They ascribe its possession to no motive existing in themselves, but with the Apostle are ever ready to acknowledge, "We love him because he first loved us."

It is true, their love to God, the Triune God, is at best but an imperfect emotion, mingling with a thousand frailties, an affection unworthy of themselves, still more deeply unworthy of Him yet they love Him sincerely; He has drawn their hearts, has overcome them by His grace, and they are enabled to say, "Whom have I in heaven but you? and there is none upon earth whom I desire in comparison of you."

The deathlessness of love to God is a beautiful idea of Scripture. Every other grace will cease but that of love. Faith! that precious grace which has been as the sheet-anchor of our soul in the wildest storms; which, as our compass, has steered us through the deep billows and brought us in safety to the port; which, amid all the trials, needs, and perils of the way, was so great and so sweet a solace- when we reach the world of glory we shall need it no more, for faith must then give place to sight.

Hope! that pole-star of the soul, which cheered us with its mild luster many a weary step of our desolate journey, gilding the dark pictures of our earthly pilgrimage with its heavenly brightness, and alluring us on to the heaven from where it shone- when we reach the world of glory we shall need it no more, for hope will terminate in full fruition.

But Love will live forever! It will tread with us the dark valley, and will cross with us the swelling river, and enter with us into the realms of eternal blessedness- its home, from where it came, and where it again returns. "Whether there be prophecies, they shall fail; whether there be tongues, they shall cease; whether there be knowledge, it shall vanish away"- but 'love never fails,' but lives forever.

We proceed now to a rapid glance at the "things which God has prepared for those who love him." And first, there is the PRESENT blessedness of the saints. And, O, how sweet is this, what tongue of man or angel can describe? They are inconceivably great. "Eye has not seen, nor ear heard, neither have entered into the heart of man, the things which God has prepared for those who love him." Contemplate what He has prepared for us in the everlasting covenant of grace. "I will make an everlasting covenant with you, even the sure mercies of David," says God. This covenant, made with Christ, who is both its Mediator and Surety, secures to the believer all the mercies appropriate to his present state of conflict and of trial. They are 'sure mercies.' None others are so. The mercies of the worldling are as uncertain as the wind, as unstable as the sea. 'Passing away' is written upon them all. But the present blessings of the covenant child of God are 'sure.' Redemption, 'sure;' regeneration, 'sure;' salvation, 'sure;' the promises, 'sure;' a present God, 'sure;' a full Savior, 'sure;' eternal life, 'sure;'- all as 'sure' to the 'house of David' as Christ the spiritual David can make them.

Saints of God! what a sweet encouraging truth is this as you tread the vale of tears towards the mount of God! The world knows us not; the saints but imperfectly understand us. Tender and sympathizing as some are, how often are we compelled to say to them- "There are depths of sorrow in my soul, there are secret recesses in my heart, which you cannot reach. No one can touch those springs but Jesus. None can enter into and illumine the orbit but the Sun of Righteousness." Turning from the ignorance of the world, from the false judgment, the wrong interpretation, the misplaced confidence, the unkind rebukes of the saints, what a reviving cordial and what a soothing balm to the faint and wounded spirit is this truth- "the things which God has prepared for those who love him;" even the "sure mercies of ]David!"

But especially in the Lord Jesus, the Mediator of the covenant, are all great and glorious blessings prepared and treasured up. No conception can fully grasp the greatness of that declaration, "It pleased the Father that in him should all fulness dwell." Fulness of justification, so that the most guilty may be accepted. Fulness of pardon, so that the vilest may be forgiven. Fulness of grace, so that the most unholy may be sanctified. Fulness of strength, and consolation, and sympathy, so that the most feeble, afflicted, and tried, may be sustained, succored, and comforted. O how imperfectly are we acquainted with the things which God has prepared in Jesus for those who love Him! He would seem to have laid all His treasures at our feet. We go to Pharaoh, and he sends us to Joseph. We travel to the Father and sweet it is to go to Him!- but we forget that having made Christ the, "Head over all things to the Church." He sends us to Jesus. "Go unto Joseph." Precious words! Every need has the voice of the Father in it, saying, "Go to Jesus." Every perplexity is the Father's voice- "Go to Jesus." Every trial is the Father's voice- "Go to Jesus." If it pleased the Father to prepare in Christ all these spiritual things for those who love Him, surely it must be equally pleasing to Him that I, a poor, needy, ignorant, guilty creature, should draw from this supply to the utmost extent of my need. I will, then, arise with my burden, with my sorrow, with my need, and go to Christ, and prove if His infinite willingness to give, is not equal to His infinite ability to provide for me all that I need.

But let us turn to the contemplation of the FUTURE PROSPECTS of believers- of all contemplations perhaps the most sanctifying that can interest the feelings or engage the soul of man. In this sense of the passage it may in truth be said, "Eye has not seen, nor ear heard, neither have entered into the heart of man, the things which God has prepared for those who love him." We at present dwell but in the suburban parts of heaven. We tread here below its lower streets- the mere outskirts of glory. Now and then we catch a view of what is passing within the celestial city. We gaze for a moment upon its glittering spires, its star-paved streets, its walls of jasper, and its dome of light. An occasional strain of its music floating upon fragrant breezes, falls upon our ear, soothing the spirit and awakening desires to be there. But the glorious vision is not of long continuance. Pisgah's summit is again capped with clouds, and we descend to the valley beneath, to battle once more with sin and sorrow, and learn that heaven, though it soon will be, is not yet come.

I have remarked, that the contemplation of the coming glory is, of all meditative themes, the most deeply sanctifying. Heaven is revealed, and not as a state merely, but as a place, "I go," says Jesus, "to prepare a place for you." And upon the ear of the expiring malefactor He poured these enchanting words, "This day shall you be with me in Paradise." We have sufficient data given to us upon which to found some correct idea of what awaits us in the upper world. We glean from the sacred Scriptures enough knowledge of its nature and society, of its employments and blessedness, to awaken the most intense desire for its fitness and its enjoyment. It thus becomes the focal point upon which the believer's eye loves to fix its longing gaze.

In the race, he views it as his goal; in the warfare, he anticipates it as his prize; in the pilgrimage, he looks forward to it as his rest; and amid the toil of the pilgrimage and the battle of life he is often heard to betray the inward longings of his soul, "O that I had wings like a dove! then would I fly away and be at rest."

How blessed the prospect of attaining in heaven to a state of perfect holiness! This is its most glorious beatitude. Think of possessing a nature as pure and holy as the nature of God. Think of the soul being as a mirror concentrating upon its unsullied bosom all the moral perfections of Jehovah, nothing intercepting or dimming their rays, and returning the image of the Divine and glorious Object it reflects- each sparkling beam presenting a perfect resemblance of God. This is heaven. It is no picture of the fancy, it is no ideal conception of the imagination, but a real, and tangible, and scriptural delineation of the holy state awaiting every believer. "Beholding as in a glass the glory of the Lord, we shall be changed into the same image from glory to glory, even as by the Spirit of the Lord."

In heaven we shall be freed from the indwelling of evil, and be delivered from the tyranny of corruption. Sin, now our thrall, our torment, and our burden, will then enslave, and distress, and oppress us no more. The chain which now binds us to the dead, loathsome body of our humiliation will be broken, and we shall be forever free! To you who cry, "O wretched man that I am," who know the inward plague, and feel that there is not one moment of the day in which you do not come short of the Divine glory, whose heaviest burden, whose bitterest sorrow, whose deepest humiliation springs from the consciousness of sin- what a glorious prospect is this! "It does not yet appear what we shall be: but we know that, when he shall appear, we shall be like Him, for we shall see him as he is."

The absence of all evil, and the presence of all good, constitute elements of the heavenly state, which place its blessedness beyond the conception of the human mind. Assure me that in glory all the effects and consequences of the curse are done away- that the heart bleeds no more, that the eye weeps no more, that the spirit grieves no more, that temptation assails no more, that sickness, and bereavement, and separation, and disappointment are forms of suffering forever unknown, and let the Spirit bear his witness with my spirit- that I am a child of God, and a door is open to me in heaven, through which a tide of, "joy unspeakable and full of glory," rushes in upon my soul. And this is heaven. "God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes; and there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain: for the former things are passed away."

But heaven is not a place of negative blessedness merely. There is the positive presence of all good. "In your presence is fulness of joy, at your right hand are pleasures forevermore." The soul is with Christ, in the presence of God, and in the complete enjoyment of all that He has from eternity prepared for those who love Him. All soul, all intellect, all purity, all love- 'Eye has not seen, nor ear heard' the inconceivable blessedness in the full ocean of which it now bathes. Its society is genial, its employments are delightful, its joys are ever new. How deeply does it now drink of God's everlasting love, with what wondering delight it now surveys the glory of Immanuel, how clearly it reads the mysterious volume of all the Divine conduct below, and how loud its deep songs of praise, as each new page unfolds the 'height, and depth, and length, and breadth of the love of Christ,' which even then 'passes knowledge!' Truly we may call upon the "saints to be joyful in glory." Sing aloud, for you are now with Christ, you see God, and are beyond the region of sin, of pain, of tears, of death- "forever with the Lord!"

But we cannot conceive, still less describe, the glorious prospects of believers, for, "eye has not seen, nor ear heard, neither have entered into the heart of man, the things which God has prepared for those who love him." We shall soon go 'home', and experience it all. Then the eye will have seen, and the ear will have heard, and the heart will have realized the things which from eternity God has laid up in Jesus, and prepared in the everlasting covenant for the poorest, lowest, feeblest child, whose heart faintly, yet sincerely, thrilled in a response of holy love to His.

https://gracegems.org/W/grace11.htm

The Believer's Paradox (Arthur W. Pink, 1886-1952)

Mark 9:24

“And straightway the father of the child cried out, and said with tears, Lord, I believe; help thou mine unbelief.” 

This was the honest confession of one whose faith had been put to a most severe test. It issued from a man who had a son possessed by a demon, which grievously tormented him, "Whenever it seizes him, it throws him to the ground. He foams at the mouth, gnashes his teeth and becomes rigid" (v. 18). What a sore trial was that for a tender parent! How thankful you should be, my reader, if in the sovereignty of God—you are blessed with normal and healthy children; and how sympathetic we should be toward those who have afflicted ones! No doubt this man had consulted different physicians, and perhaps had conferred with his pastor; but no relief had been obtained. What a testing of his submission to the will of God! Then he sought aid from Christ's disciples—but they had been unable to effect any cure, and "hope deferred makes the heart sick." Such, in brief, is the background of our text. And now the great Physician commanded that the tormented one should be brought to Him—but we read "When the spirit saw Jesus, it immediately threw the boy into a convulsion. He fell to the ground and rolled around, foaming at the mouth" (v. 20). Yes, matters generally seem to get worse with us when the Lord begins to take us in hand—to demonstrate that our extremity is God's opportunity to manifest His sufficiency. It was thus with the afflicted Hebrews in Egypt. The darkest hour precedes the dawn. But what a tremendous testing of this man's faith to behold his poor son foaming in agony at the Savior's feet! "Jesus asked the boy's father, "How long has he been like this?" "From childhood," he answered. "It has often thrown him into fire or water to kill him. But if you can do anything, take pity on us and help us." (vv. 21, 22). Did the Lord Jesus indignantly rebuke him for questioning His power, and turn away in disgust? No, for "great is His mercy." Instead, He answered, "If you can believe, all things are possible to him that believes" (v. 23), and we are told "Immediately the father of the boy cried out—I do believe! Help my unbelief." How paradoxical was this language, for it was almost, if not quite, a contradiction in terms. If this man was a genuine believer, then why should he bemoan his unbelief? Or, since he bemoaned his unbelief, with what propriety could he claim to be a believer? It is like a man saying, I am hot—help my shivering coldness; I am strong—help my tottering weakness; for faith and unbelief are opposites. Ah there are many paradoxes in the Christian life, which are quite unintelligible to the wise of this world. That man has to become a fool in order to be wise (1 Cor. 3:18), that he has to become a pauper in order to be made rich (Matt. 5:3), that he has to be made weak in order to become strong (2 Cor. 12:10), are enigmas that proud philosophers cannot elucidate. But thank God, what remains mysterious to the wise and prudent among men—is revealed to those who are babes in His family. Unbelief is part of the entail of the Fall. By nature all of us are "children in whom is no faith" (Deut. 32:20). Frightful thing is that! To have a heart which distrusts God; to have a heart which is ever prone to lean upon anyone and anything rather than upon the Lord Himself; to forsake the Fountain, and betake ourselves to "cisterns which hold no water." Such is fallen man. Plenty of faith in himself, faith in his fellows, until he is disillusioned and disappointed; but no faith in God. That it is which explains why Christ is "despised an rejected by men," so that in the days of His flesh He cried "O faithless and perverse generation, how long shall I be with you!" (Matt. 17:17). This it is which accounts for the universal attitude of men toward both the Law and the Gospel—they do not believe the Author and Giver of them, they are destitute of faith in Him; and thus they will continue all their days—unless the Holy Spirit sovereignly intervenes and performs a miracle of grace in their hearts. Unbelief remains in the hearts even of the regenerate. Though God imparts to them the gift of faith, he does not remove (in this life) the root of unbelief. The Heroes of Faith, whose portraits hang upon the walls of fame in Hebrews 11, experienced that solemn fact. Look at Abraham, the father of all those who believe—when famine arose in Canaan he went down to Egypt for support, and so afraid was he to trust his wife in the hands of God, he told a lie by saying she was his sister. Look at Moses; afraid to return to Egypt and confront Pharaoh after Jehovah had appeared to him at the burning bush and had promised the deliverance of His people (Exo.3); and later, complaining to Him, because he had so evilly dealt with Israel (Exo. 5:22, 23). Look at David, the slayer of Goliath—yet saying in his heart "I shall now perish one day by the hand of Saul" (1 Sam. 27:1). Look at the once intrepid Elijah, fleeing in terror from Jezebel. Ah, my reader, the Holy Spirit has delineated the characters of the saints in the colors of truth and reality; not as they ought to have been—but as they actually were. Unbelief is the great burden of the saint. It grieves his soul—the man in our text wept over it—do you? Gladly would the Christian be freed from this plague—but the Lord does not see fit to remove it in this life. Frequently it acts like a cloud that covers the sun, for there is nothing so effectual as unbelief in hiding from us the light of God's countenance. Unbelief fetters our spiritual movements and impedes our progress. There are times when the believer fears that his unbelief will utterly sink him. Yet painful though this experience be, it is nevertheless a most hopeful and encouraging sign. It is not until God has communicated faith—that any soul is conscious of its unbelief! A living faith is necessary in order to recognize our dead unbelief! There must be Divine light to see its existence, and Divine light to feel its power. Here, then, is solid comfort for those who are groaning over this burden—in your unregenerate days you were never exercised over your unbelief! To genuinely mourn for our wicked unbelief is a sure evidence that Divine life is present in the soul. Those who are strangers to God, certainly do not make conscience of such matters; how can they—when they are quite unconscious of the plague of their hearts! But the Christian is not only conscious of unbelief, he goes to God and makes humble and contrite confession of the same. Yes, it is a sense of this grievous burden which drives him to the great Physician, crying, "Lord, I do believe! Help my unbelief!" A true Christian does not cloak or excuse his unbelief—but honestly acknowledges it before God. Nor does he sit still and pity himself as one who is totally impotent and without any responsibility in the matter. No, he genuinely seeks "help," which clearly denotes he is resisting this enemy—but needs Divine assistance. True, without Christ he can do nothing (John 15:5)—but he can do all things by Christ strengthening him (Phil. 4:13). Here, then, is the solution to the difficulty and the explanation of the paradox presented by the language in our text. There are two distinct and totally different principles or "natures" indwelling the saint—faith and unbelief, and there is a continual opposition between them. They issue from the "spirit" and the "flesh," concerning which we read, "For the sinful nature desires what is contrary to the Spirit, and the Spirit what is contrary to the sinful nature. They are in conflict with each other, so that you do not do what you want" (Gal. 5:17). It is this unceasing warfare between the two antagonistic principles that give rise to a dual experience—one moment trusting God, the next doubting Him; one moment resting upon and drawing comfort from His promises, the next having no confidence in the same. And this dual and distressing experience, moves him to cry "Lord, I do believe! Help my unbelief!" Ah, my reader, if you are not plagued with and burdened by unbelief, if you do not humbly confess the same to God and seek His help about it—then are you of all men most miserable. Contrariwise, as we have already said, here is that which provides real comfort for the conscience-distressed and Satan-harassed soul. How often the Devil will tell a Christian, "Your profession is an empty one—you do not belong to the Household of Faith—how can you, when filled with unbelief!?" Listen, dear friend—the man in our text was a genuine believer—yet he owned his unbelief; and that is recorded for our instruction and comfort. This internal warfare, is one of the plainest possible proofs that we are believers. No unbeliever ever shed tears over his unbelief; no empty professor ever groaned because of his questioning of God; no hypocrite is burdened by his doubts and fears. No! Such are filled with carnal confidence and fleshly assurance—they have not had a doubt about their salvation for years past; they can exercise faith any time, as easily as you can turn a tap and make the water come; but such is not the faith of God's elect. "Lord, I do believe! Help my unbelief!" There are four things here claiming our attention. First, the Paradox presented—this, together with its solution, we have considered above. Second, a Fact affirmed, "Lord, I believe." Third, a Request offered, "help." Fourth, a Confession made, "my unbelief." As it is often helpful to depart from the arrangement of a text, we will do so here, and take up its several clauses in their inverse order, looking at this man's confession, then his petition for help, and then the plea by which he supported his request, "I believe." The Confession made, "my unbelief." We will, very briefly, observe four things in connection with the same. First, it was an honest confession. This is the first thing that God requires from any praying soul—sincerity, genuineness, reality. He is not to be imposed upon by cant, nor will the mere uttering of words, however scriptural, gain His ear. Then be frank and artless in all your dealings with God, and never pretend to be what you are not—to the very end of your earthly pilgrimage. You will always be (in yourself) a vile sinner, unworthy of the least of His mercies. This man did not claim to possess a faith that never wavered, or boast that he was free from doubts and fears. No, he honestly acknowledged that the sum of his faith was frequently eclipsed by the dark clouds of unbelief. O to be delivered from all insincerity when approaching the Throne of Grace! Second, his confession was a humble one. That is the next thing which God requires from the praying soul—that he strip himself of the rags of self-righteousness and come before Him as one who is sinful and needy. This is very evident from the Epistle to the Laodiceans—they refused to abase themselves and take their proper place before the Lord. His charge was, "You say, 'I am rich; I have acquired wealth and do not need a thing.' But you do not realize that you are wretched, pitiful, poor, blind and naked!" (Rev. 3:17). Alas, to how many professing Christians do those solemn words apply today! To all such Christ says, "I counsel you to buy from me gold refined in the fire, so you can become rich; and white clothes to wear, so you can cover your shameful nakedness; and salve to put on your eyes, so you can see" (v. 18). It is just at this very point, that the Christian is distinguished from the hypocrite—the former humbles himself and takes his place before God in the dust, acknowledging his wicked unbelief. Third, his confession was a feeling one, and this is the next thing which God requires from each praying soul, for He desires "truth (reality) in the inward parts" (Psalm 51:6). It is not merely pious expressions—but a real sense of need in the soul, which constitutes the essence of prayer. I might as well kneel down and worship gods of stone—as offer to the living God a prayer of words alone! That the confession of our text was a feeling one, is evidenced by the fact that it was accompanied by tears. If the writer may be permitted to speak for his readers, Is it not at this point that we so often fail the worst, especially in the confessing of our sins. Alas, how little are our hearts affected by them—how mechanical and impenitent are the owning of our faults. Lord, melt our hard hearts! Fourth, it was a representative confession, by which we mean it was suited to the case of all God's children. There will never come a time in this world when such language is unfitted even for those who are members of the Household of Faith. No matter how much God is graciously pleased to increase our faith, indwelling unbelief will still be present to struggle against it. It is just this element which renders the prayers of Scripture so pertinent to the saints of all ages—they exactly suit their case and express their sentiments. "As in water face answers to face, so the heart of man to man" (Proverbs 27:19). Let us consider next his Petition, for there is much in the details of this incident which affords us valuable instruction on the subject of prayer, "help, Lord." First, look again at the occasion of it. This was an overwhelming anxiety over his afflicted son, finding relief in unburdening his heart to the Lord. And that is what all real supplication is. There is far more genuine petitioning of God in seasons of adversity—than during times of prosperity. That is the reason why many a grief-wrung ejaculation, or an inarticulate groan reaches God's ear—when many a nicely worded and carnally-admired "prayer" never reaches any higher than the ceiling of the room. Read through Psalm 107 and observe the repeated "Then"! When there is a real sense of need, a burdened soul requires no external "helps" as to what to say and how to say it; a cry spontaneously emanates from the stricken soul—and wings its way to Heaven! But there was something more than the pitiful state of his son which prompted this petition—the father was conscious that his own unbelief was hindering the desired blessing (or why did he cry out for "help" against it), and that was unbearable. If you had to carry a basket containing some articles which weighed only a few ounces, you would never think of asking someone for a helping hand; but if you were staggering along with a load that weighed twenty or thirty pounds, you would beg assistance—unless you were too proud and independent to seek it. And so it is in heart matters—the more we make conscience of the thoughts and intents of the same, the more we are exercised over that which is disorderly and God-dishonoring, and the more we grow in grace, the more keenly we shall feel such irregularities. Second, consider the spirituality of his plea. The more spiritual the soul becomes—the more spiritual are its petitions. It is a sure mark of spiritual immaturity when relief from bodily ailments are more valued by us—than deliverance from moral maladies; or when material mercies are prized above an increase of our graces. This man did not cry out, "Lord, heal my son"—that had been natural; but "Lord, help my unbelief!"—that was truly spiritual. The fact is that many of the most spiritual prayers issue from those who regard themselves as being the least spiritual; yes, who seriously doubt if they have any spirituality at all. Unspiritual souls never pray for help against unbelief. It is much to be thankful for, when we are made painfully conscious of our unbelief, for thousands of church-members never are so; and it is a still greater cause for praise, when we are honestly burdened thereby, and moved to pray for deliverance. Third, its meaning. This man recognized that the Lord was the only one who could effectually aid him. Ah, it is a grand thing when we are brought to the point where we realize that none but God Himself can subdue the workings of this evil in us! All self-help is vain; all fellow-creatures are powerless to render any relief—they cannot relieve themselves, still less others. Then "Cast your burden upon the Lord—and He shall sustain you" (Psalm 55:22). This man definitely applied to Christ. It is indeed a blessed thing when we are so oppressed by our unbelief that we betake ourselves to the great Physician! So many groan under it—but do no more; others hug it to themselves, and get no further. "Lord, I believe! help my unbelief!"—put forth Your gracious power and subdue this God-dishonoring spirit; enable me to strive against it; allow me not to excuse it, or to pity myself for it and fatalistically yield to it; cause me to regard it as an evil to be hated, an enemy to be resisted, a sin to be confessed. Fourth, mark its comprehensiveness. His petition was exceeding brief—yet it covered much ground. As faith is the root from which all good works proceed, so unbelief is the source of all evil. This is our master sin, "the sin which does so easily beset us" (Heb. 12:1). Unbelief is the cause of all our troubles and failures. This is the strategic point where Satan concentrates his forces against us, and therefore it is here above all that we need Divine help. "Lord, I believe; help my unbelief!—Lord, I do expect You to undertake for me—yet I am not able to exclude all doubting; I am persuaded of Your power and pity—but enable me to rely upon You more fully and constantly. We turn now to the Plea which accompanied this prayer for help, for so we may legitimately regard these words, "Lord, I believe." His cry for Divine assistance, accompanied by a humble confession, was made on this ground—because I believe, Lord—take pity upon me and subdue my unbelief. To obtain the granting of our petition—it must be backed up by some valid and suitable argument. Prayer is something more than presenting a request to God; it is pleading with Him, presenting some reason why He should grant that for which we ask. There are various pleas we may make; such as, because I am in deep need of the same; because You have promised to supply it; because it will be for Your glory to do so; for Christ's sake. This is what the Lord means when He says, "Produce your cause, says the Lord; bring forth your strong reasons, says the King of Jacob" (Isaiah 41:21). First, then, this plea was a necessary one, for God will not hear an unbeliever. "But without faith it is impossible to please Him—for he who comes to God must believe that He is, and that He is a Rewarder of those who diligently seek Him" (Heb. 11:6). "Lord, I believe," not as I would do, nor as I should do; yet I deny not Your existence, I question not the verity of Your Word, I am persuaded You cannot lie, I doubt not Your power, Your goodness, Your mercy. I believe, though feebly, haltingly, spasmodically. I appeal to You, O Searcher of hearts—You see the little spark of fire beneath the smouldering flax, the flicker of faith behind the clouds of unbelief. Ah, is it not at this point we so often fail—when presenting our petitions we must accompany them with suitable pleas, for then God sees we are in earnest. Study carefully Christ's prayer in John 17 and observe how each request is supported by a reason or plea—either before or after, in the words "that," "for," etc. Second, it is an instructive plea. What valuable teaching is there here, for those who desire to pray aright! In our ignorance and foolishness, we had probably concluded that such a prayer as this man made, was unsuitable and unseemly—a contradiction in terms. It is recorded for our learning. One great lesson it inculcates is that we ought never to look on our graces without also viewing our infirmities; nor should we confess our sins without also owning the Spirit's fruit in us. For example, if I am made sensible of my deep need of more humility, when asking God for the same, I should acknowledge my pride; contrariwise, when confessing my pride, I should thank God for humbling my heart to do so. If I am begging for more patience and submission, I must confess my self-will and fractiousness; yet also thank God for making me feel my need of the opposites. Third, it was an acceptable plea. God is pleased when His people own their relationship to Him, pleading that they are His children, and acknowledging the Spirit's work within. It is a false and reprehensible humility which refuses so to do. Observe the example of David, "O my God, I trust in You—let not my enemies triumph over me" (Psalm 25:2); "In You, O Lord, do I put my trust; let me never be ashamed—deliver me in Your righteousness" (Psalm 31:1); "Preserve my soul; for I am holy—O You my God, save Your servant who trusts in You" (Psalm 86:2). Observe how Asaph pleaded with God the relationship which Israel sustained to Him, "Remember Your congregation, which You have purchased of old" (Psalm 74:2). This is the very ground taken by our great High Priest when interceding for His people, "I pray for them—I pray not for the world—but for those who You have given Me; for they are Yours" (John 17:9). We, then, shall pray acceptably if we plead "Lord, I am Yours, undertake for me; I am a believer, subdue my unbelief!" Fourth, it was a prevailing plea. Of course it was—had not Christ said, "If you can believe, all things are possible to him who believes." This dear man's petition gained the day—the Lord undertook for him, and his poor son was made whole. When we really believe, the battle is half, nay nine-tenths, won. It all turns upon that—it is the prayer of faith—which gains the ear and moves the hand of God. Hence, when we read of Abraham that "he staggered not at the promise of God through unbelief; but was strong in faith, giving glory to God" (Romans 4:20), we should cry "Lord, I believe; help my unbelief." As we read, "If any of you lacks wisdom, let him ask of God, who gives to all liberally, and upbraids not; and it shall be given him" (James 1:5), we should cry "Lord, I believe; help my unbelief," for it is written, "but let him ask in faith nothing wavering." We may apply our text to those seeking salvation. There may be a reader of this article who is halting between two opinions. He is convinced that Christ alone can meet his needs and satisfy his soul—yet he finds it so hard to give up the world and abandon his idols. He knows full well that in Christ alone is eternal life to be found—yet Satan still has such a hold upon him that he cannot surrender to the Lord Jesus and forsake the pleasures of sin. Then come to Him and say, "Lord, I believe; help my unbelief." Or, it may be, he feels himself to be such a godless wretch, that he fears his case is hopeless—having sinned so grievously against light and privileges, he dares not venture upon the Gospel promises. Come to Christ and cry from the heart, "Lord I believe; help my unbelief!" Our text may be applied unto God's providences. The Christian can say "the Lord is my shepherd—I shall not want" (Psalm 23:1)—yet when circumstances seem to be all against him, he is unable to appropriate the blessed truth that God shall supply all his needs (Phil. 4:19). Fearful that he shall come to abject destitution, he is unable to fully trust the Lord. Then come to Christ and say, "Lord, I believe; help my unbelief." Many a one can say—I am sure that "all things work together for good to those who love God, to those who are the called according to His purpose" (Romans 8:28) means what it says. Yet there are some things in his circumstances which he finds exceedingly difficult to believe will issue in real good for him. Instead of submitting to God's disposing will, he is often full of rebellion; instead of kissing the rod, he finds himself kicking against it. Then come to Christ and say, "Lord, I believe; help my unbelief." Our text may be applied to personal assurance. How many a Satan-harassed believer is exclaiming, I greatly fear that I cannot be among the saved, for if I were, I surely would not sin as I do. In view of the raging of my lusts, the frequency of which they overcome my every effort to resist them, it would be presumptuous to affirm that the reigning power of sin was dethroned within me. My friend, David cried "iniquities prevail against me" (Psalm 65:3). But you say, My heart is such a sink of iniquity, I dare not claim to be regenerated; often I do not loathe sin, nor even desire to. Ah—but it is not always thus—are not such seasons followed by contrition and confession!? Yes, you say—but right after I fall again into the mire, sometimes deeper than before; ah—but do you stay there? Do you completely abandon the Throne of Grace? Does not a cry of distress go up from you to God? Then continue crying "Lord, I believe; help my unbelief!" May God add His blessing to this sermon for His name's sake.

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The Believer's Triumph (Octavius Winslow, 1808-1878)

Romans 8:34

“Who is he that condemneth? It is Christ that died, yea rather, that is risen again, who is even at the right hand of God, who also maketh intercession for us.” 

We have remarked that the soul of the Apostle rose with the sublimity of his theme. It was impossible not to perceive, as we followed him in his masterly and conclusive argument, how his mighty mind kindled with fresh rapture, as each successive step conducted him towards its magnificent climax. It may truly be said to be the "mighty work of a mind acting in all the dignity of independent greatness, and fired and elevated by a principle no less commanding than the love of Jesus." He had thrown down the undaunted challenge, unaccepted, and now he breathes the final triumph- "Who is he that condemns?" Let us briefly follow him in the different parts of the mediatorial work of Christ, which he exhibits in the passage, as constituting the ground of the believer's triumph.

"It is Christ that died." Upon this fact we have somewhat descanted elsewhere, in explaining the doctrine of the believer's justification. The object of the writer in introducing it again, was to confirm the Christian's exemption from condemnation, on the broad basis of Christ's mediation. This event formed the first of all the subsequent steps in the working out of the great plan of the Church's redemption. To this, as its center, every line of truth converged. It was as a suffering Messiah, as an atoning High Priest, as a crucified Savior, as a Conqueror, returning from the battle-field with garments rolled in blood, that the Son of God was revealed to the eye of the Old Testament saints. They were taught by every type, and by every prophecy, to look to "the Lamb slain from the foundation of the world." Christ must die! Death had entered our world, and death- the death of the Prince of Life- only could expel it. This event formed the deepest valley of our Lord's humiliation. It was the dark background- the somber shading of the picture of his life, around which gathered the light and glory of all the subsequent parts of his history. But in what character did Christ die? Not as a Martyr, nor as a Model, but as a Substitute. His death was substitutionary. "God has not appointed us to wrath, but to obtain salvation by our Lord Jesus Christ, who died for us." This great truth, the Apostle, we find in another place, appropriating to himself. "The Son of God who loved me and gave himself for me." Here was the personal application of a general truth. And this is the privilege of faith. There breathes not a babe in Christ, who may not lay his hand upon this glorious truth- "Christ gave himself for me." Contemplate now, the conclusiveness of this reasoning for the non-condemnation of the believer. Since Christ bore our sins, and was condemned in our place; since by his expiatory death the claims of Divine justice are answered, and the holiness of the Divine law is maintained, who can condemn those for whom he died? Oh, what security is this for the believer in Jesus! Standing beneath the shadow of the cross, the weakest saint can confront his deadliest foe; and every accusation alleged, and every sentence of condemnation uttered, he can meet, by pointing to Him who died. In that one fact he sees the great debt cancelled, the entire curse removed, the grand indictment quashed- and "No condemnation to those who are in Christ Jesus," are words written as in letters of living light upon the cross.

"Yes rather, that is risen again." This is the second part of the mediation of Christ, which the Apostle assigns as a reason why none can condemn the believer. It would seem by the word "rather" that we are taught to look upon this fact of our Lord's life as supplying a still stronger affirmation of the great truth he was establishing. A few observations may make this appear. The atoning work of Christ was in itself a finished work. It supplied all that the case demanded. Nothing could possibly add to its perfection. "I have finished the work which you gave me to do." But we lacked the proof. We required that evidence of the reality and acceptance of the Atonement which would render our faith in it a rational and intelligent act. The proof lay with him who was "pleased to bruise him and put him to grief." If God were satisfied, then the guilty, trembling sinner may confidently and safely repose on the work of the Savior. The fact of the resurrection was therefore essential to give reality to the Atonement, and hope to man. Had he not returned in triumph from the grave, the sanctity of his precepts, the sublimity of his teachings, the luster of his example, and the sympathies awakened by the story of his death, might have attracted, charmed, and subdued us, but all expectation of redemption by his blood would have been a mockery and a delusion. But, "This Jesus has God raised up." And grounded on this fact the believer's acquittal is complete. When he bowed his head and gave up the spirit, the sentence of condemnation was reversed; but when he burst the bonds of death, and appeared in the character of a Victor, the believer's justification was forever sealed. "For if when we were enemies we were reconciled to God by the death of his Son, much more, being reconciled, shall we be saved by his life." Here, then, lies the great security of the believer. "Delivered for our offences, he rose again for our justification." Planting his foot of faith upon the vacant tomb of his living Redeemer, the Christian can exclaim, "Who is he that condemns? it is Christ that died, yes rather, that is risen again." Oh, to feel the power of his resurrection in our souls! Oh, to rise with him in all the reality and glory of this his new-born life, our minds, our affections, our aspirations, our hopes all quickened, and ascending with our living Lord. "Because I live, you shall live also."

"Who is even at the right hand of God." The exaltation of Christ was a necessary part of his mediatorial work. It entered essentially into the further continuance of that work in heaven- the scene of the intercessory part of the High Priest's office. "The right hand of God" is a phrase expressive of power and dignity. "When he had by himself purged our sins, sat down on the right hand of the Majesty on high." "Who is gone into heaven, and is on the right hand of God; angels, and authorities, and powers, being made subject unto him." What stronger assurance has the believer that no impeachment against him can be successful, than this? His Savior, his Advocate, his best Friend, is at the right hand of the Father, advanced to the highest post of honor and power in heaven.

"There sits our Savior crowned with light,
Clothed in a body like our own."

All power and dominion are his. The revolutions of the planets, and the destinies of empires, his hand guides. The government is upon his shoulders; and for the well being, security, and triumph of his Church, power over all flesh, and dominion over all worlds, is placed in his hands. Who, then, can condemn? Jesus is at the right hand of God, and the principalities and powers of all worlds are subject to his authority. Fear not, therefore, O, believer! Your Head and Redeemer is alive to frustrate every purpose, to resist every plot, and to silence every tongue that would condemn you.

"Who also makes intercession for us." To what a beautiful climax does the Apostle conduct his argument! The exaltation of Jesus in heaven is associated with the dearest interests of his people on earth. Joseph was forgotten when Pharaoh lifted up the head of the chief butler. But our Lord, amid the honors and splendors to which God has highly exalted him, still remembers his brethren in bonds, and makes intercession for them. How expressive is the type of our Lord's present engagement on behalf of his people! "And he (Aaron) shall take a censer full of burning coals of fire from off the altar before the Lord, and his hands full of sweet incense beaten small, and bring it within the veil: and he shall put the incense upon the fire before the Lord, that the cloud of the incense may cover the mercy seat that is upon the testimony." The passing of Aaron into the holy of holies, was the shadowing forth of our Lord's entrance into

heaven. The blood sprinkled at the mercy seat was the presentation of the great Atonement within the veil. And the incense overshadowing with its fragrant cloud the mercy seat, thus touched with blood, was the figure of the ceaseless intercession of our Great High Priest in the Holiest. "For Christ is not entered into the holy places made with hands, which are the figures of the true: but into heaven itself, now to appear in the presence of God for us." It is an individual, an anticipative, and a present intercession. It embraces all the personal needs of each believer, it precedes each temptation and each trial, and at the moment that the sympathy and the prayers of the Savior are the most called for, and are felt to be the most soothing, it bears the saint and his sorrow on its bosom before the throne. Just at a crisis of his history, at a juncture, perhaps, the most critical in his life; and when the heart, oppressed with its emotions, cannot breathe a prayer, Jesus is remembering him, sympathizing with him, and interceding for him. Oh, who can fully describe the blessings that flow through the intercession of the Son of God? The love, the sympathy, the forethought, the carefulness, the minute interest in all our concerns, are blessings beyond description. Tried, tempted believer! Jesus makes intercession for you. Your case is not unknown to him. Your sorrow is not hidden from him. Your name is on his heart. Your burden is on his shoulder; and because he not only has prayed for you, but prays for you now, your faith shall not fail. Your great accuser may stand at your right hand to condemn you, but your great Advocate stands at the right hand of God to plead for you. And greater is he that is for you, than all that are against you.

Behold the ground of the believer's triumph! What has he to fear? "Who is he that condemns?" The mediatorial work of Christ shuts every mouth, meets every accusation, and ignores every indictment that can be brought against those for whom he died, rose again, ascended up on high, and makes intercession. Oh, what a glorious triumph does Christ secure to the weakest saint who stands in faith upon this rock! "There is therefore now NO CONDEMNATION to those who are in Christ Jesus."

Octavius Winslow, "No Condemnation in Christ Jesus"

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The Believer's Challenge (Octavius Winslow, 1808-1878)

Romans 8:33

“Who shall lay any thing to the charge of God's elect? It is God that justifieth.” 

The Apostle recurs again to the great proposition with which he started- no condemnation in Christ Jesus- the evidence of which had so richly accumulated in his course, as to justify this, the keynote of the triumph with which he conducts his brilliant argument to a close. It is impossible not to perceive that his spirit kindles with the inspiration of his theme, until from the pinnacle on which he now stood, he seems to have caught an expanded view, and to reflect the first beams, of that heaven of glory from which he had so lately descended.

"God's elect." It was important that the Apostle should distinctly specify who the people were against whom no accusation could justly be alleged. And what terms could he employ more expressive of their character and relation than this? It involves two ideas- God's choice, of a people beloved. The term occurs in other places. "But for the elect's sake these days shall be shortened." "According to the faith of God's elect." "Elect according to the foreknowledge of God the Father." "His own elect." It is quite clear, then, that those on whose behalf this challenge is made, are a people who, like their Lord and Master, are "chosen of God and precious." Now, scriptural as this doctrine is, it cannot be concealed that many anxious minds have made it a stumbling-stone at the very threshold of their spiritual career. The great mistake has been the making the doctrine of election the starting-point of their conversion, rather than a point to be reached at a subsequent and distant part of their religious course. With God it doubtless is the starting-point, if we may suppose a beginning with him who has no beginning- but not with man. We have in a previous chapter shown that our calling of God by the Spirit is the premise, and that our election of God by his love is the conclusion. Thus reasoning, as logicians term it, a posteriori, without having looked into the mysterious volume of the Divine decrees, the Apostle, addressing the converted Thessalonians, could boldly say, "Knowing, brethren beloved, your election of God." And how did he know it? From their faith, their knowledge, their reception of the truth, and its transforming effects on their character. Adopt this mode of reasoning as yours, and you will no longer complain that the doctrine of election is a perplexing truth, casting its deep and gloomy shadow upon your path to the cross. In your spiritual voyage your calling by grace is like an isthmus standing between two eternities; the past, in which God has chosen his people; and the future, in which he will glorify, them. Reach this middle point and you are safe.

"It is God that justifies." We believe that by many this cardinal doctrine of God's justification is but imperfectly understood, and but indistinctly seen in its results. The lofty position of security in which it places the believer, the liberty, peace, and hope into which it brings him, are points dim and obscure in the spiritual vision of many. We also believe that much of the weak, sickly Christianity of numbers is traceable, in a great measure, to the crude and gloomy conceptions they form of God, produced by not clearly seeing the interest which he felt, and the initiatory part which he took, in the great matter of our justification. Let our faith but trace the act of our justification to God, and we have placed ourselves upon a vantage-ground of the boldest defiance to all our enemies. Survey the truth in this light for a moment. Against whom have you sinned? Adopting David's confession, you exclaim, "Against you, and you only have I sinned." Having sinned against God, from God, then, you looked for the condemnation. You had violated his law, and from the lips of the Lawgiver you waited the sentence. When, lo! he declares himself on your side. Descending, as from his tribunal, he comes and stands in your place, and avows himself your Justifier. "It is GOD that justifies." Upon you, a culprit, trembling at his bar, he throws his own righteousness, "which is unto all, and upon all those who believe;" and from that moment you are justified. Shall we, then, be indifferent to the part the Father took in the great question of our acceptance? Shall we cherish the shy and suspicious thought of God as if he looked coldly at us, and felt that, in pleading for his mercy, we were infringing upon his righteousness? Oh, no! Away with such thoughts of God! He it is who pronounces the act of your acquittal, and from his lips sound the glorious words, "No CONDEMNATION!" "It is God that justifies."

We are now prepared for the challenge based upon this truth. "Who shall lay anything to the charge of God's elect?" Who in heaven; who on earth; who in hell? God will not; sin cannot; Satan dare not. Who? If there be in this wide universe an accuser of those whom God has justified, let him appear. There is none! Every mouth is closed. "Who shall lay any thing to the charge of God's elect?" If there remain a sin unpardoned, a stain uneffaced, a precept unkept, by the Mediator of his church, let it appear. But there is none! The work of Christ is honorable and glorious. It is a finished work. And on the basis of this complete Atonement, God, while he remains just, is the justifier of him that believes. Oh, embrace this truth, you who, in bitterness of soul, are self-accused and self-condemned before God! Satan could accuse, and the world could accuse, and the saints could accuse, but more severe and true than all, is the self-accusation which lays your mouth in the dust, in the deepest, lowliest contrition. Yet, as a poor sinner, looking to Jesus, resting in Jesus, accepted in Jesus, who shall lay anything legally to your charge, since it is God- the God against whom you have sinned- who himself becomes your Justifier? May you not with all lowliness, yet with all holy boldness, challenge every foe, in the prophetic words of Christ himself- "He is near that justifies me: who will contend with me?"

This truth is an elevating, because a deeply sanctifying one. It exalts the principles, and these, in their turn, exalt the practice of the Christian. Oh! the thought, that it is God who justifies us at an expense to himself so vast, by a sacrifice to himself so precious, surely is sufficiently powerful to give the greatest intensity to our pantings, and fervency to our prayers, for conformity to the Divine image. Deep sorrows, and sore trials, and fiery temptations, we may have, and must have, if we ever enter the kingdom; but, what is sorrow, and what is trial, and what is temptation, if they work but in us the fruits of righteousness, fit us more perfectly for heaven, and waft us nearer to our eternal home? Press, in humble faith, this precious truth to your heart, for God has forgiven all, and has cancelled all, and has forgotten all, and is your God forever and ever.

Isaiah 54:17

“No weapon that is formed against thee shall prosper; and every tongue that shall rise against thee in judgment thou shalt condemn. This is the heritage of the servants of the LORD, and their righteousness is of me, saith the LORD.”

Octavius Winslow, "No Condemnation in Christ Jesus"

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