Chapter IV: Part 4

+II. God's patience with human sin.+ He speaks here of being "troubled" by the worship of ungodly men; it is a burden of which He is "weary." Why, then, does He bear it for a moment? Why, then, does He not give quick vent to the indignation that burns within Him, and consume His troubles with swift destruction? He bears with us--1. _That by His patience He may appeal to our better feelings._ He does us good, and not evil (Matt. v. 45), that we may be made ashamed to sin against such generosity. When men are not altogether hardened in iniquity, there is nothing so likely to overcome them as a requital of wrongs by blessing,[4] especially where he who so requites it has full power to avenge himself. By His long-suffering, God has led countless thousands to repentance. 2. _That He may set us an example of self-restraint._ It is because He is Himself so slow to anger, that He is able to warn us against vindictiveness. God does not only lay upon us precepts of excellence: He Himself embodies them. 3. _That He may place the righteousness of his judgments beyond dispute._ A space of grace and forbearance seems necessary to enable onlookers to perceive that the awful doom which at length will come upon sinners is fully deserved, and is perfectly consistent with His own mercifulness. If "Wisdom" had not "called," reproved, counselled, "stretched out her hands" in entreaty, the stern words in which she announces the awful and irrevocable doom of her despisers would shock us (Prov. i. 20, 32). 4. _That a moral probation may be rendered possible._ If punishment always instantly and obviously followed transgression, the world would be ruled by terror so overwhelming that free agency would be destroyed, and virtue consequently rendered impossible. For such reasons as these, God bears with sinners, and "sentence against an evil work" is not executed speedily.

+III. God's protest against human sin.+ God suffers under human sin, but He does not suffer in silence: He vehemently protests against it. Two reasons should lead us to heed this protest:--1. _Gratitude._ He might have sent vengeance without warning. His protests and threatenings are proofs of His love. All that is noblest and best in us should lead us to give instant and thankful heed when God appeals to us, and says, "Oh, do not this abominable thing that I hate!" (Jer. xliv. 4). But if sin has so debased your nature that higher considerations such as this cannot move you, then I appeal--2. to your _instinct of self-preservation._ God's protest against sin is no unmeaning form: His threatenings against sin are no empty words (Prov. xxix. 1). Rightly considered, the sinner's untroubled condition is the most awful of all warnings.[5]

FOOTNOTES:

[1] The tempter persuadeth the sinner that it cannot be that
God should make so great a matter of sin, because the
thoughts of a man's heart, or his words, or deeds, are
matter of no great moment, when man himself is so poor a
worm, and whatever he doth is no hurt to God. But if God so
much regard us as to make us, and preserve us continually,
and to become our Governor, and make a law for us and judge
us, and reward His servants with no less than heaven; then
you may easily see that He so much regardeth us, as to
observe whether we obey or break His laws. He that so far
careth for a clock or watch, as to make it and wind it up,
doth care whether it go true or false. What do these men
make of God, who think He cares now what men do! Then He
cares not if man beat you, or rob you, or kill you, for
none of this hurteth God. And the king may say, "If any
murder your friends and children, why should I punish him?
he hurt not me." But justice is to keep order in the world,
and not only to preserve the governor from hurt: God may
not be wronged, though He be not hurt. And He will make you
pay for it, if you hurt others; and smart for it, if you
hurt yourself.--_Baxter,_ 1618-1691.

[2] Our sin is not so much a violation of a law that lies
outside of the bosom of God, as it is a disregard of the
feelings and nature of God Himself. You will by a moment's
reflection see that there is a marked distinction between
personal feeling infringed upon and law transgressed. The
magistrate sits upon the bench, and a culprit is brought
before him. There are two ways in which that culprit may be
considered as transgressing. He may have broken the law of
the land, which the magistrate represents officially, but
not personally. The magistrate regards him as a culprit, to
be sure. But suppose that, in the exercise of truth and
justice by a pure administration or decision, the
magistrate arouses the anger of the culprit, and he insults
him to his face, and in his own court; is there any
difference between his former crime, which was the
violation of the law of the land, and in his latter crime,
which is a transgression of the feeling of the magistrate,
sitting as a magistrate?

It is the same everywhere. When you employ men in your
affairs, you know that there is a distinction between a
disregard of the rules of business, and a personal
disagreement with yourself. You know that when a man
offends against you, his wrong is more heinous and
provoking than when he offends against your rules or laws.
We know that a child may violate the laws of morality as
they are established by the Word of God and by the consent
of the community; that he may violate the civil law of the
land in which he dwells; that he may violate the rules and
regulations of a well-ordered family; and yet, though all
these courses of conduct are grievous wrongs which shock
the parent, not be as culpable as when he treads on the
feelings of the parent. There are exigencies in which the
child flies, as it were, in the heart of the father and
other, and does not so much violate their command as their
living feeling; intolerable and more flagrant than simply
setting aside and forgetting or transgressing a law. In
other words, it is possible to break a statute; that is one
kind of transgression. It is possible, also, to sin by
directly infringing upon the heart and the feeling; that is
another kind of transgression, and one that is considered
more stinging, more intolerable, and more unforgivable than
any other.

Now God and His law are one, in the sense in which we
approach Him as moral beings--one in such a sense that when
we offend against His moral law, we offend against His own
personal feeling. He is not a magistrate for whom a system
has been framed, and to the administration of which He
comes under a sense of justice. He is a universal Father,
administering according to His own instincts, His own
tastes, His own affections, His own feelings, among His
children. God's law is God's self, pervading the universe,
and our transgression is a personal affront of God Himself.
Just as when your taste, or your love, or your conscience,
is violated by the direct act of another person against
yourself, the offence is greater than if any exterior canon
were broken; so it is when we violate the Divine commands.

This conception of God should quicken every moral
sensibility, and make a life of sin painful and distasteful
to us. It is one thing to sin against a government, and
another thing to sin against a being. There are a great
many children that will sin against the family
arrangements, who would not sin against their mother. There
is many a child to whom the mother says, "My dear child,
you know your father has made a law in this family, that
such and such things shall not be done, and you know you
have broken that law three of four times; now, for my sake,
avoid breaking it again." The child feels, when the mother
interposes herself, that there is something that touches
him which did not when it was only a law of the family that
he was setting aside.

Now, God puts Himself in just that position, and the motive
of obedience and righteousness is this: that God is the
tenderest, the most patient, the gentlest, and the dearest
friend that we have; that He knows everything within and
without; and that though we are sinful and wicked, He, in
His infinite compassion and mercy, forgives us, and says,
"Do not sin against me, nor against mine."--_Beecher._

When a man defrauds you in weight, he sins against _you,_
not against the scales, which are only the instruments of
determining true and false weight. When men sin, it is
against God, and not against His law, which is but the
indicator of right and wrong. You care little for sins
against God's law. It has no blood in its veins, no
sensibility. Now, every sin that you commit is personal to
God, and not merely an infraction of His _laws._ It is
casting javelins and arrows of base desire into His loving
bosom. I think no truth can be discovered which would be so
powerful upon the moral sense of men, as that which should
disclose to them that sinning is always a personal offense
against a personal God. Law without is only an echo of
God's heart-beat within.--_Beecher._

[3] Is there any human being who so hates the sin of a child,
or the companion of that friend? To whose eye so much as to
the eye of the lover is a defect a thing to be abhorred? Is
there anywhere in the world such compassion as is found in
a father or in a mother over the sin or fault of the child?
Yea, with evil associates, with growing bluntness of
feeling, with accumulating evasions and deceits, with a
development of serpent passions, with a life by day and by
night that emasculates manliness, the mother sees her boy
going steadily down, step by step; and in her nightly
vigils, with strong crying and tears, she pours herself out
before God, abhorring with unutterable detestation all
these terrible evils that threaten the life and immortality
of her son; and for years she carries in her soul the
suffering that ought to be in his, and bears his sin, his
sorrow, and his shame, and lies humiliated, and bowed down
in the dust, the just for the unjust.--_Beecher._

God hates sin, because it destroys what He loves. He could
live high and lifted up above all noise of man's groaning,
all smoke of his torment; but His nature is to come down
after man--to grope for him amid all the dark pollutions of
sin, and, if possible, to rescue and cleanse him.

God hates sin very much, as mothers hate wild beasts. One
day a woman stood washing beside a stream. She was in a
wild frontier country, and the woods were all around. Her
little, only child was playing about near her. By and by
she missed the infant's prattle, and, looking about, she
called its name. There was no answer. Alarmed, the mother
ran to the house, but her babe was not there. In wild
distress the poor woman now fled to search the woods, and
there she found her child. But it was only its little
_body_ that she clasped to her heart. A wolf had seized her
treasure, and when, at last, she rescued it from those
bloody fangs, its spirit had gone. Oh, how that mother
hated wolves! And do you know that this is the very figure
Christ uses to show what feeling He has towards the sin
that is seeking to devour His children?--_Beecher._

It makes a difference to God how we act. His happiness is
affected by the conduct of His children; for His heart is
the heart of a father. If, when my child sins, a pang goes
through my own soul, and I fly to rescue him from further
iniquity, it is because God struck into my breast a little
spark of what in Him is infinite.--_Beecher._

[4] A group of rough men were assembled at a tavern one night.
One man boasted that it did not make any difference what
time he went home, his wife cheerfully opened the door, and
provided an entertainment if he was hungry when he got
home. So they laid a wager. They said: "Now, we'll go along
with you. So much shall be wagered. We'll bet so much that
when you go home, and make such a demand, she will resist
it." So they went along at two or three o'clock in the
morning and knocked at the door. The door opened, and the
man said to the wife: "Get us a supper." She said: "What
shall I get?" He selected the articles of food. Very
cheerfully were they provided, and about three or four
o'clock in the morning they sat down at the table--the most
cheerful one in all that company the Christian wife--when
the man, the ruffian, the villain, who had demanded all
this, broke down and said: "I can't stand this. O what a
wretch I am!" He disbanded that group. He knelt down with
his Christian wife and asked her to pray for the salvation
of his immortal soul, and before the morning dawned they
were united in the faith and hope of the Gospel. A patient,
loving, Christian demeanour in the presence of
transgression, in the presence of hardness, in the presence
of obduracy and crime, is an argument from the throne of
the Lord Almighty.--_Talmage._

[5] Since we know God to be grievously displeased with sin,
here is something awful in His keeping silence while it is
committed under His eye. If a child comes home conscious of
having offended a parent, and the parent says nothing all
that night, but merely looks very grave, the child is more
frightened than he would be by a sharp rebuke or severe
punishment, for if such rebuke or punishment were
inflicted, he would at least know the worst; but when the
parent is silent, he knows not what may be hanging over
him. So when we remember how many things plainly offensive
to God are going on all around us, it is a terrible thought
that He is still silent. We fear that He is but getting
ready to take vengeance on those who defy Him. And so that
passage which we have quoted from the Psalms carries on the
train of thought in what follows. "God is a righteous
judge, strong and patient, and God is provoked every day.
If a man will not turn, He will whet His sword, He hath
bent His bow, and made it ready."

In countries where earthquakes happen, a dead silence
always goes before the earthquake. Nature seems hushed into
an awful stillness, as if she were holding her breath at
the thought of the coming disaster. The air hangs heavily;
not a breath fans the leaves; the birds make no music;
there is no hum of insects; there is no ripple of streams;
and this while whole houses, and even cities sometimes, are
hanging on the brink of ruin. So it is with God's
silence,--it will be followed, when it seems deepest, by
the earthquake of His judgments. And so the holy Apostle
writes to the Thessalonians: "When they shall say, Peace
and safety" (from the fact of God's being so still and so
dumb), "Then sudden destruction cometh upon them, as
travail upon a woman with child, and they shall not
escape."--_Goulburn._

WORTHLESS HUSKS.

i. 15. _And when ye spread forth your hands, I will hide
mine eyes from you; yea, when ye make many prayers, I will
not hear._

The Jews had been likened unto the inhabitants of Sodom and Gomorrah (ver. 10). As such, they are summoned to listen to a series of declarations of which this is the sum, that worship without holiness is a solemn mockery. Confining ourselves to our text only, we may see that it teaches us--+I. The worthlessness of ritualism without spirituality.+ "When ye spread forth your hands," &c. 1. _Ritualism is an essential element of public worship._ There must be some form by which thought can be expressed, and the devotions of others guided. There may be too little, or too much, but _some_ is indispensable.[1] 2. _Ritualism may be the expression of earnest spiritual life, and a help thereto._ It may be the outcome of a sincere feeling and deep piety--such was the ritual which David and his devout companions devised and elaborated for the service of the Temple. It was costly and magnificent beyond even that which is observed in St. Peter's at Rome; but as practised by them it was as spiritual as the baldest service that has ever been conducted in the barest conventicle. A splendid ritual may be acceptable to the Most High, and the followers of George Fox must not imagine that they are the only persons who worship God "in spirit and in truth." 3. But _ritualism may be, and often is, only a form._ It may mean only an exhibition of millinery, a scrupulous observance of a prescribed series of postures and genuflexions. It may be, according to a too suggestive phrase, merely a service "performed." In this case God passes it by with contempt. To all engaged in such histrionic performances He says, "When ye spread forth your hands," &c. Supplication without desire will never draw down the Divine benediction. +II. The worthlessness of prayer without purity of heart.+ "When ye make many prayers, I will not hear." 1. _Prayer is a necessity of the Christian life._ A consciousness of weakness and want, and a profound conviction of God's power and willingness to succour him, prompts the Christian to make "many prayers." And each supplication so inspired finds its way to the throne and heart of God. To hear and answer the prayers of His children is one of our Heavenly Father's joys (ch. lxv. 24). 2. _But prayer, like ritualism, instead of being the expression of a realised need, may be only an empty form._ The supplications that are offered may be uttered merely by rote, with as little feeling as a child recites the multiplication-table; or they may be devices by which deluded men seek to propitiate that God whom they are offending by their conduct every day,--mere lip-homage, which they imagine He will accept in condonation of their habitual disregard of His will. In either case, their "many prayers" are worthless husks which He rejects with disdain.

If we would have our worship accepted of God, there must be--1. _Spiritual conceptions of His character._ These will prevent us from mocking Him by merely formal prayers or praises. 2. _A solemn realisation of His presence._ How often this is lacking in those who take part in the service of the sanctuary, and even in those who conduct them! But God is not throned in some distant heaven, to which our prayers struggle up we know not how: He is HERE! We shall never be nearer to Him than we are to-day! 3. _An earnest endeavour after holiness in daily life_ (Ps. lxvi. 18). See why God would not regard the uplifted hands of the Jewish supplicants--"Your hands are full of blood." See also ch. lix. 1-3. To no rebel is access to the presence-chamber of the King of kings granted: this is the high privilege of those only who can lift up "holy hands" (1 Tim. ii. 8).[2]--_A. F. Barfield._

FOOTNOTES:

[1] The external part of religion is, doubtless, of little
value in comparison with the internal; and so is the cask
in comparison with the wine contained in it: but if the
cask be staved, the wine must perish. If there were no
Sundays or holydays, no ministers, no churches or religious
assemblies, no prayers or sacraments, no Scriptures read,
or sermons preached, how long would there be any religion
left in the world: and who would desire to live in a world
where there was none?--_Horne,_ 1730-1792.

Forms are necessary to religion as the means of its
manifestation. As the invisible God manifests His
nature--His power, wisdom, and goodness, in visible
material forms, in the bright orbs of heaven, in the
everlasting hills, in the broad earth with its fruits and
flowers, and in all the living things which He has
made,--so the invisible soul of man reveals its convictions
and feelings in the outward acts which it performs. As
there could be no knowledge of God without the visible
forms in which He reveals Himself, so there could be no
knowledge of the religion which exists in the soul of man
without the outward forms in which it expresses itself. A
form is the flag, the banner, the symbol of an inward life,
it is to a religious belief what the body is to the soul;
as the soul would be utterly unknown without the body, so
religion would be unknown without its forms, a light hidden
under a bushel, and not set up in a candlestick that it may
give light to all that are in the house.

Forms are necessary not only to the manifestation of
religion, but to its nourishment and continued existence. A
religion which expressed itself in no outward word or act
would soon die out of the soul altogether. The attempt to
embody truth and feeling, to express it in words and
actions, is necessary to give it the character of living
principle in the soul: in this respect forms are like the
healthy exercise which at once expresses and increases the
vigorous life of the body, or they may be compared to the
leaves of a tree, which not only proceed from its inward
life, but catch the vitalising influences of the light, the
rain and the atmosphere, and convey them down to the root.

What, then, is that formalism which is everywhere in the
Scripture, and especially in the discourses of our Lord,
described as an offence and an abomination in the sight of
God? I answer, formalism is the substitution of the outward
rite in the place of the inner spirit and life of the soul;
it is the green leaf which still hangs upon the dead branch
which has been lopped off.--_David Loxton._

[2] God doth not institute worship-ordinances for bodily motion
only; when He speaketh to men He speaketh as to a man, and
requireth human actions from him, even the work of the
soul, and not the words of a parrot or the motion of a
puppet.--_Baxter,_ 1615-1691.

You think you serve God by coming to church; but if you
refuse to let the Word convert you, how should God be
pleased with such a service as this? It is as if you should
tell your servant what you have for him to do, and because
he hath given you the hearing, he thinks he should have his
wages, though he do nothing of that which you set him to
do. Were not this an unreasonable servant? Or would you
give him according to his expectation? It is a strange
thing that man should think that God will save them for
dissembling with Him; and save them for abusing His name
and ordinances. Every time you hear, or pray, or praise
God, or receive the sacrament, while you deny God your
heart and remain unconverted, you do but despise Him and
show more of your rebellion than your obedience. Would you
take him for a good tenant that at every rent-day would
duly wait on you, and put off his hat to you, but bring you
never a penny of rent? Or would you take him for a good
debtor that brings you nothing but an empty purse, and
expects you should take that for payment? God biddeth you
come to church and hear the Word; and so you do, and so far
you do well; but withal, He chargeth you to suffer the Word
to work upon your hearts, and to take it home and consider
of it, and obey it, and cast away from former courses, and
give your hearts and lives to Him; and this you will not
do. And you think that He will accept of your
service?--_Baxter,_ 1615-1691.

REASONS FOR THE REJECTION OF PRAYER.

i. 15. _When ye make many prayers, I will not hear._

God has characterised Himself as "the Hearer of prayer;" and it is the great consolation of His people that they cannot seek His face in vain. But here He declares that He will not hear the prayers of Israel, however many. This solemn and momentous declaration may well lead us to inquire why prayer is, in many instances, rejected. Prayer, to be heard, must be both _right_ and _real._ If it possess neither of these characteristics, or only one of them--if it is _neither right nor real,_ or is _right without being real,_ or _real without being right_--it cannot fail to be rejected.

I. A man may pray _rightly,_ either because he has been taught the principles of orthodoxy, or knows what language is conformable to those principles, or because he uses prayers composed by spiritual men, or, finally, because he used the very word prescribed or sanctioned by God Himself. But in all these cases, while his prayer may be right, it may be altogether unreal. He may neither know the meaning of the requests it contains, nor desire their fulfilment.[1] Thus do many men pray for a free pardon for Christ's sake, for entire sanctification, and repeat the Lord's Prayer. There is nothing in the heart corresponding to what is expressed by the lips; nay, the heart and the mouth are often completely at variance with each other.

II. Prayer may be _real without being right._ A man may really acknowledge mercies received, and petition for more; and yet neither the acknowledgement nor the petition may be regarded by God. The acknowledgement and the petition have reference to mere earthly desires already gratified or yet to be gratified. He thanks God that the "lusts have had the food which they craved;" he prays that they may never want it. Pride, vanity, the love of ease, pleasures, and worldly respectability are "lusts" on which he has hitherto "consumed," and on which he intends still to "consume," the good things which God has given, or may yet give him. The secret soul of all his supplications is not any zeal for the glory of God, but selfishness. His prayers are of the earth, earthy. The spiritual blessings which God holds out in His right hand he passes by in contemptuous neglect, and clamours for the natural blessings which are in God's left hand.

III. Both the faults of prayer above referred to are often found in one and the same individual, and the guilt of both accumulated on one and the same head.

Let it not be inferred from what has been said that we lay an interdict on natural blessings, and forbid the seeking of them in prayer. Our Saviour has given us authority to ask for daily bread, and this fully warrants the conclusion that natural blessings, as well as spiritual, may and ought to form a subject of prayer. We ought to "seek _first_ the kingdom of God and His righteousness," and _then_ ask Him to fulfil His promise of "adding unto us all other things."--_R. Nesbit, Discourses,_ pp. 308-319.

FOOTNOTES:

[1] Will men's prayers be answered? Not if they pray as boys
whittle sticks--silently, hardly knowing or caring what
they are about. I have known men begin to pray about Adam,
and go on from him to the present time, whittling their
stick clear to a point, with about as much feeling, and
doing about as much good as the boy does.--_Beecher._

I often say my prayers,
But do I ever pray,
And do the wishes of my heart
Go with the words I say:
I may as well kneel down
And worship gods of stone.
As offer to the living God
a prayer of words alone,
For words without the heart
The Lord will never hear;
Nor will He to those lips attend
Whose prayers are not sincere.--_John Burton._

A STARTLING CHARGE.

i. 15. _Your hands are full of blood._

Such is the reason which God assigns for turning a deaf ear to the prayers of His ancient people: the hands they lifted up to Him in supplication were blood-stained. It was as if Cain, red with the murder of Abel, had lifted up his hands in prayer to God for blessing. By this startling charge we are reminded--+I. That between the estimates formed by God and man as to what takes place in the sanctuary there is often an infinite disparity.+ Behold the court of the temple filled, apparently, with devout worshippers, who lift up their hands to heaven in earnest supplication,--what a pleasing sight! But God looks down, and says, "Those hands are full of blood." The same contrast is repeated in another form (ch. xxix. 13). Other contrasts: Eli sees what he thinks to be a drunken woman; God sees a humble supplicant (1 Sam. i. 12, 13). Men see an eminently religious man praying in the sanctuary; God sees a man prostituting prayer into a means of self-glorification (Luke xviii. 11, 12). Men see a foul wretch whose presence in the sanctuary is a pollution; God sees a broken-hearted penitent, and hastens to bless him (Luke xviii. 13, 14). So it is in our sanctuaries to-day. +II. That God holds us responsible for the ultimate consequences of our actions.+ The men who thronged the temple in Isaiah's time, and whose prayers God rejected, were not bandits and murderers in the ordinary and coarse fashion by which men are brought to the scaffold. Yet the charge brought against them was true. For there are other ways of murdering men than by acts of violence of which human law takes note. By grievous oppression millions of men have been brought to an untimely grave. If a man destroys another by _slow_ poison, is he not as truly a murderer as another who kills his victim by means of prussic acid? In God's sight oppression is murder; and of oppression in its worst forms the Jews had been guilty (vers. 23; iii. 14, 15, &c.) It is in accordance with this declaration that opprobrium is heaped upon Jeroboam as the man "who made Israel to sin" (2 Kings x. 29); and that we are so sternly warned against leading others into transgression (Matt. xviii. 6, &c.) This fact--1. _Casts some light on the doctrine of future punishment._ The results of the evil actions of men go on eternally propagating themselves, and it is therefore not unjust that the punishment of those actions should be eternal also. 2. _Should cause us to halt when we are tempted to acts of unkindness and oppression._ Unwillingly we may thereby become murderers. 3. _Should lead us to be most watchful as to the example we set before others._ If we hold our false lights by which they are caused to make shipwreck "concerning faith" and character, God will hold us responsible for the disaster (Rom. xiv. 15, &c.) +III. That sin is naturally indelible.+ These Jews came into the sanctuary with hands carefully cleansed, but yet in God's sight they were "full of blood." 1. The stains of sin cannot be washed out by _time._ Time obliterates much, but it does not obliterate guilt. Men are apt to be troubled in conscience about recent sins, but to be at ease concerning those committed many years previously. But this is a mistake. Lapse of time makes no difference to God; the inscriptions in His books of record never fade. Hence the wisdom of David's prayer (Ps. xxv. 7). 2. The stain of sin cannot be washed out by _worship._ That it might be so was the vain dream of the Jews, as it is of millions to-day. But worship itself is an offence when it is offered by ungodly men; so far from diminishing their guilt, it increases it (Prov. xxviii. 9, &c.) 3. The stain of sin cannot be washed out by _sorrow._ Sorrow for the past alters nothing in the past; the crime remains, no matter how many tears the criminal may shed.[1] 4. The stain of sin cannot be washed out even by _reformation of conduct and character._ Men speak of "turning over a new leaf," and when they have done what this phrase implies, they are apt to be at peace. But this also is a mistake. They forget that the old, evil leaf remains, and that for what is inscribed thereon God will call them to account. As there is a "godly sorrow" and a "worldly sorrow," so there is a religious and an irreligious reformation of conduct. The former is the result of evangelical repentance, and is of exceeding worth (Ezek. xviii. 27, 28); the latter is a mere act of prudence, and is of no moral account. In one way, and in one way only, can the stain of guilt be effaced from the human soul (1 John i. 7-9).

FOOTNOTES:

[1] Repentance _qualifies_ a man for pardon but does not,
cannot _entitle_ him to it. It is one of the most
elementary and obvious truths of morality, that the
performance of one duty cannot be any compensation for
neglect to perform another duty. But when a sinner is
penitent for his sins, he is merely doing what, _as a
sinner,_ he ought to do; and his feelings of contrition do
no more to absolve him from his guilt than the gratitude a
man feels to a doctor who has cured him from a dangerous
illness does to discharge the doctor's bill. As in this
case there ought to be both gratitude and payment, so in
the case of the sinner there must be both penitence and
atonement. The sinner's sorrow for his sin, while in itself
a proper thing, is no more an atonement for his sin than is
the remorse that fills the breasts of most murderers any
atonement for the murders they have committed. Judas was
sorry, profoundly and intensely sorry, for having betrayed
our Lord Jesus Christ, but did _that_ do away with the
guilt of that betrayal? Was Peter not to be blamed for his
denial of his Master, because afterwards "he went out and
wept bitterly"? Did the tears he shed give him any right to
say in after years--"Yes, I denied my Lord, but I was sorry
for it, and so made it straight"? Do you think that just as
with soap and water you can wash the dirt off your hands,
you can with a few tears, or with many tears, wash the
guilt of sin from off your soul? No delusion could be more
groundless. Oh no! You have the real fact and the true
philosophy of the matter in the well-known verse--

"Not the labours of my hands
Can fulfil Thy law's demands.
Could my zeal no respite know,
_Could my tears for ever flow,_
All for sin could not atone:
THOU must save, and THOU alone."

MORAL ABLUTION.

i. 16. _Wash you, make you clean._

This is one of a very numerous class of passages which summon sinners to the duty of moral purification, of thorough and complete reformation of character (Jer. iv. 14; James iv. 8; Jer. xviii. 11; Ezek. xviii. 30-32, &c.) These passages are very clear and emphatic, but they seem to be in opposition to others which assert man's natural inability to do anything that is good (Matt vii. 18; Rom. vii. 18-23; John xv. 5), with others which teach that repentance is a Divine gift (Acts v. 31; 2 Tim. ii. 25), and with those which teach that sanctification is the work of the Holy Spirit (1 Cor. vi. 11, &c.) The opposition is only apparent.[1] Every Divine command really involves a promise of the grace necessary for its accomplishment, and God is ever ready to work with and in us "to will and to do of His good pleasure."[2] Fallen as we are, we yet retain the power of responding to or of rejecting His admonitions; if we respond to them, there instantly begins to flow into our souls that which will enable us to accomplish everything that God has required (Phil. iv. 13). Three great questions--+I. Why must we cleanse ourselves from evil?+ 1. _Because sin renders us offensive to God._ It is in itself repulsive to Him, just as immodesty in all its forms and in every degree is repulsive to a virtuous woman (Hab. i. 13; Prov. xxxi. 10-31). 2. _Because it is destructive to ourselves._ In physical matters dirt and disease are inseparable, and so they are in spiritual. Moral pollution leads to moral decay. Sin is a leprosy that eats away all the finer faculties of the soul. 3. _Because it renders us dangerous to our fellow-men._ In the measure that we are corrupt, we shall corrupt others. There is a terrible contagiousness in iniquity (Prov. xxii. 24, 25; Rev. xviii. 4). A sinner is a walking pestilence. And 4. The special lesson of our text in its connection--_Because otherwise access to the throne of grace will be closed against us._ If it be not so with us now, yet there will come a season when it will be supremely important to us that God should hear our prayers (a time of great trouble, or the hour of death), and how awful will be our condition if God should then turn a deaf ear to us! But this is the doom of obdurate sinners (ver. 15; Jer. xi. 14, &c.) +II. How may we cleanse ourselves from evil?+ 1. _By resolutely putting off our old evil habits._ This is what Isaiah exhorted the Jews to do (vers. 16, 17). Similar exhortations occur in the New Testament (Eph. iv. 25-29; Heb. xii. 1). Begin with the faults of which you are most conscious.[3] Begin and continue the great task of moral reformation in humble dependence upon God. 2. _By prayer._ In earnest communion with God our views of duty and purity receive a marvellous elevation, and we catch the inspiration of the Divine character, so that iniquity, instead of being attractive, becomes hateful to us also.[4] 3. _By humble but resolute endeavours to copy the example of our Lord Jesus Christ._ 4. _By intercourse with the people of God._[5] 5. _By making the Word of God the only and absolute rule of our life_ (Ps. cxix. 1). These are the means by which we may attain to moral purity in the future. Cleansing from the guilt of sin in the past is bestowed freely on all who believe in Jesus (1 John i. 7-9). Yea, the guilt of a man whose hands are literally "full of blood" may thus be washed away; _e.g.,_ Saul, the persecutor and murderer of the saints (Acts. xxii. 4, 16; 1 Tim. i. 16). +III. When may we cleanse ourselves from evil? NOW!+ this very hour the task ought to be begun. 1. Difficult as the task is, delay will only increase its difficulty.[6] 2. Now, because God's commands brook no delay. (Ps. xcv. 7, 8). 3. Now! because now though God may be willing to-day to grant you "repentance unto life," by your delay you may so provoke Him to anger that _to-morrow_ repentance may be denied you.

FOOTNOTES:

[1] There is no contradiction between these statements and the
command to repent. Whoever considers what repentance
is,--that it is a change of mind toward sin, so that what
once was loved is viewed with disgust, and what was pursued
with eagerness is shunned with abhorrence,--will perceive
at once that it can only be wrought in us by a Divine
power. Man's natural tendencies are toward evil; and a
river could as easily arrest itself on its way to the
ocean, and climb to the sources whence it sprang, as can
man without the help of the Holy Spirit learn to hate sin
because of what it is. "Can the Ethiopian change his skin,
or the leopard his spots? then may ye also do good that are
accustomed to do evil." The polluted fountain of our heart
will never cleanse itself. Repentance, like every other
gift, must come from the Father of lights.

But "God works in us to will and to do of His good
pleasure." By His Holy Spirit He strives in every human
soul, awakening desires after a better and purer life. By
His longsuffering, by messages from His Word, by the
monitions of His providence, He strives to lead us to
repentance. But _we_ must repent. As while the earth cannot
bear fruit unless the sun shine upon it, it is still the
part of the earth to be fertile; so while we cannot repent
unless God aid us, it is our part to turn from evil.
Repentance cannot be exercised _for_ us; it must be
exercised _by_ us.

God commands you to repent, just as to the apostles, when
five thousand hungry men, besides women and children,
surrounded them, and their whole store was five loaves and
two fishes, Christ said, "Give ye them to eat." The task is
as much beyond your unaided power as that was above theirs;
but address yourself to it as they did, in obedience to the
Divine behest, and you will receive power from on high to
accomplish not only it, but other tasks higher yet.

[2] The Gospel supposeth a power going along with it, and that
the Holy Spirit works upon the minds of men, to quicken,
excite, and assist them in their duty. If it were not so,
the exhortations of preachers would be nothing else but a
cruel and bitter mocking of sinners, and an ironical
insulting over the misery and weakness of poor creatures,
and for ministers to preach, or people to hear sermons,
upon any other terms, would be the vainest expense of time
and the idlest thing we do all the week; and all our
dissuasives from sin, and exhortations to holiness and a
good life, and vehement persuasions of men to strive to get
to heaven, and to escape hell, would be just as if one
should urge a blind man, by many reasons and arguments,
taken from the advantages and comfort of that sense, and
the beauty of external objects, by all means to open his
eyes, and to behold the delights of nature, to see his way,
and to look to his steps, and should upbraid him, and be
very angry with him, for not doing so.--_Tillotson,_
1630-1694.

[3] Rooting up the large weeds of a garden loosens the earth,
and renders the extraction of the lesser ones comparatively
easy.--_Elisa Cook._

[4] There is an antipathy between sinning and praying. The
child that hath misspent the whole day in playing abroad,
steals to bed at night for fear of a chiding from his
father. Sin and prayer are such contraries, that it is
impossible at a stride to step from one to another. Prayer
will either make you leave off sinning, or sinning will
make you leave off prayer.--_Gurnall,_ 1617-1679.

The first true sign of spiritual life, prayer is also the
means of maintaining it. Man can as well live physically
without breathing, as spiritually without praying. There is
a class of animals--the cetaceous, neither fish nor
sea-fowl, that inhabit the deep. It is their home; they
never leave it for the shore; yet, though swimming beneath
its waves and sounding its darkest depths, they have ever
and anon to rise to the surface that they may breathe the
air. Without that these monarchs of the deep could not
exist in the dense element in which they live, and move,
and have their being. And something like what is imposed on
them by a physical necessity, the Christian has to do by a
spiritual one. It is by ever and anon ascending up to God,
by rising through prayer into a loftier purer region for
supplies of Divine grace, that he maintains his spiritual
life. Prevent these animals from rising to the surface, and
they die for want of breath; prevent him from rising to
God, and he dies for want of prayer. "Give me children,"
cried Rachel, "or else I die." Let me breathe, says a man
gasping, or else I die. Let me pray, says the Christian, or
else I die.--_Guthrie._

[5] Get some Christian friend (whom thou mayest trust above
others) to be thy faithful monitor. Or, that man hath a
great help for the maintaining the power of godliness that
has an open-hearted friend that dare speak his heart to
him. A stander-by sees more sometimes by a man than the
_actor_ can do by himself, and is more fit to judge of his
actions than he of his own; sometimes self-love blinds us
in our own cause, that we are over-suspicious of the worst
by ourselves, which makes us appear to ourselves worse than
we are. Now, that thou mayest not deprive thyself of so
great help from thy friend, be more to keep thy heart ready
with meekness to receive, yes, with thankfulness embrace a
reproof from his mouth. Those that cannot bear
plain-dealing hurt themselves most; for by this they seldom
hear the truth.--_Gurnalt,_ 1617-1679.

[6] The more we defer, the more difficult and painful our work
must needs prove; every day will both enlarge our task and
diminish our ability to perform it. Sin is never at a stay;
if we do not retreat from it, we shall advance in it, and
the further on we go, the more we have to come back; every
step we take forward (even before we can return hither,
into the state wherein we are at present) must be repeated;
all the web we spin must be unravelled.

Vice, as it groweth in age, so it improveth in stature and
strength; from a puny child it soon waxeth a lusty
striping, then riseth to be a sturdy man, and after awhile
becometh a massy giant, whom we shall scarce dare to
encounter, whom we shall be very hardly able to vanquish;
especially seeing that as it groweth taller and stouter, so
we shall dwindle and prove more impotent, for it feedeth
upon our vitals, and thriveth by our decay; it waxeth
mighty by stripping us of our best forces, by enfeebling
our reason, by perverting our will, by corrupting our
temper, by debasing our courage, by seducing all our
appetites and passions to a treacherous compliance with
itself: every day our mind groweth more blind, our will
more resty, our spirit more faint, our passions more
headstrong and untamable; the power and empire of sin do
strangely by degrees encroach, and continually get ground
upon us, till it hath quite subdued and enthralled us.
First we learn to bear it; then we come to like it; by and
by we contract a friendship with it; then we dote upon it;
at last we become enslaved to it in a bondage, which we
shall hardly be able, or willing, to shake off; when not
only our necks are fitted to the yoke, our hands are
manacled, and our feet shackled thereby, but our heads and
hearts do conspire in a base submission thereto, when vice
hath made such impression on us, when this pernicious weed
hath take so deep root in our mind, will, and affection, it
will demand an extremely toilsome labour to extirpate
it.--_Barrow,_ 1630-1677.

Repentance is entirely in God's disposal. This grace is in
the soul from God, as light is in the air from the sun, by
continual emanation; so that God may shut or open His
hands, contract or diffuse, set forth or suspend the
influences of it as He pleases. And if God gives not
repenting grace, there will be a hard heart and a dry eye,
maugre all the poor frustraneous endeavours of nature. A
piece of brass may as easily melt, or a flint bewater
itself, as the heart of man, by any innate power of its
own, resolve itself into a penitential humiliation. If God
does not, by an immediate blow of His omnipotence, strike
the rock, these waters will never gush out. The Spirit
blows where it listeth, and if that blows not, these
showers can never fall.

And now, if the matter stands so, how does the impenitent
sinner know but that God, being provoked by his present
impenitence, may irrevocably propose within Himself to seal
up these fountains, and shut him up under hardness of heart
and reprobation of sense? And then farewell all thoughts of
repentance for ever.--_South,_ 1633-1716.

A PLAIN COMMAND.

i. 16. _Cease to do evil._

One of the pretexts by which wicked men endeavour to excuse their neglect of religion is, that many of the doctrines of the Bible are mysterious. They are so necessarily, and that they are so is one proof that the Bible is from God. But however mysterious the doctrines of Scripture may be, its precepts are plain enough. How plain is the command of our text! No man can even pretend that he does not understand it. If he does not obey it, he will not be able to plead that it is beyond his comprehension. We have--+I. A universal requirement.+ Certain of the precepts of Scripture concern only certain classes of individuals (sovereigns, subjects, husbands, wives, &c.), but this command concerns us all. Your name is written above it, and it is a message for _you._ +II. A most reasonable requirement.+ It is wrong that needs justification, not right. The worst man in the community will admit that he _ought_ to "cease to do evil." And he _can,_ if he will, not in his own strength, but in that which God is ever ready to impart to every man who desires to turn from sin. And not only ought and can men "cease to do evil," it will be to their advantage to do so. Sin has its "pleasures," but they are but "for a season," and they are succeeded by pains and penalties so intense that the pleasures will be altogether forgotten. To exhort men to "cease to do evil," is to exhort them to cease laying the foundation for future misery.[1] On every ground, therefore, this is a most reasonable requirement. +III. A comprehensive requirement.+ It is not from certain forms of evil, merely, but from evil in all its forms, that we are required to abstain. "Cease to do _evil!_"[2] Sin must be utterly forsaken! not great and flagrant sins only, but also what are called "little sins."[3] These destroy more than great sins.[4] One sin is enough to keep us enslaved to Satan.[5] +IV. An imperative requirement.+ This is not a counsel, which we are at liberty to accept or reject; it is a command, which we disobey at our peril; a command of One who has full power to make His authority respected. +V. A very elementary requirement.+ Men who have laid aside certain evil habits, such as drunkenness, swearing, &c., are apt to plume themselves on what they have done, and to regard themselves as paragons of virtue. But this is a mistake. Ceasing to do evil is but the beginning of a better life; it is but the pulling up of the weeds in a garden, and much more than this is needed before "a garden" can be worthy of the name. Those who have ceased to do evil must "learn to do well."[6]

FOOTNOTES:

[1] As where punishment is there was sin; so where sin is there
will be, there must be, punishment. "If thou dost ill,"
saith God to Cain, "sin lies at thy door" (Gen. iv. 7).
_Sin,_ that is _punishment_ for sin; they are so
inseparable, that one word implies both; for the doing ill
is the sin, that is within doors; but the suffering ill is
the punishment, and that lies like a fierce mastiff at the
door, and is ready to fly in our throat when we look forth,
and, if it do not then seize upon us, yet it dogs us at the
heels; and will be sure to fasten upon us at our greatest
disadvantage: _Tum gravior cùm tarda venit, &c._ Joseph's
brethren had done heinously ill: what becomes of their sin?
It makes no noise, but follows them slily and silently in
the wilderness: It follows them home to their father's
house; it follows them into Egypt. All this while there is
no news of it; but when it found them cooped up three days
in Pharaoh's ward, now it bays at them, and flies in their
faces. "We are verily guilty concerning our brother, in
that we saw the anguish of his soul," &c. (Gen. xlii. 21).