An exhortation to the pursuit of heaven and heavenly things 3/3

Heaven is a kingdom that cannot be shaken—Christ an abiding portion—his graces and comforts, sure waters that fail not, but spring up into eternal life.  The quails that were food for the Israelites’ lust soon ceased, but the rock that was drink to their faith followed them.  This rock is Christ.  Make sure of him, and he will make sure of thee; he will follow thee to thy sick-bed, and lie in thy bosom, cheering thy heart with his sweet comforts, when worldly joys lie in cold upon thee, as David’s clothes on him, and [when] no warmth of comfort [is] to be got from them.  When thy outward senses are locked up, that thou canst neither see the face of thy dear friends, nor hear the counsel and comfort they would give thee, then he will come, though these doors be shut, and say, ‘Peace be to thee, my dear child; fear not death or devils; I stay to receive thy last breath, and have here my angels waiting, that as soon as thy soul is breathed out of thy body, they may carry and lay it in my bosom of love, where I will nourish thee with those eternal joys that my blood hath purchased, and my love prepared for thee.’

           Fourth Argument. Earthly things are empty and unsatisfying.  We may have too much, but never enough of them.  They oft breed loathing, but never content; and indeed how should they, being so dis­proportionate to the vast desires of these immortal spirits that dwell in our bosoms?  A spirit hath not flesh and bones, neither can it be fed with such; and what hath the world, but a few bones covered over with some fleshly delights to give it?  ‘The less is blessed of the greater,’ not the greater of the less. These things therefore being so far inferior to the nature of man, he must look higher if he will be blessed, even to God himself, who is the Father of spirits.  God intended these things for our use, not enjoyment, and what folly is it to think we can squeeze that from them, which God never put in them?  They are breasts, that, moderately drawn, yield good milk, sweet, refreshing; but, wring them too hard, and you will suck nothing but wind or blood from them.  We lose what they have, by ex­pecting to find what they have not.  None find less sweetness and less and more dissatisfaction in these things, than those who strive most to please them­selves with them.  The cream of the creature floats atop, and he that is not content to fleet it, but thinks by drinking a deeper draught to find yet more, goes further to speed worse, being sure by the disap­pointment he shall meet to pierce himself through with many sorrows.  But all these fears might happily be escaped, if thou wouldst turn thy back on the creature, and face about for heaven.  Labour to get Christ, and through him hopes of heaven, and thou takest the right road to content; thou shalt see it before thee, and enjoy the prospect of it as thou goest, yea, find that every step thou drawest nearer and nearer to it.  O what a sweet change wouldst thou find!  As a sick man coming out of an impure un­wholesome climate, where he never was well, [finds] when he gets into fresh air or his native soil, so also wilt thou find a cheering of thy spirits, and a reviving [of] thy soul with unspeakable content and peace. Having once closed with Christ,

1. The guilt of all thy sins is gone, and this spoiled all thy mirth before.  All your dancing of a child, when some pin pricks it, will not make it quiet or merry; well, now, that pin is taken out which robbed thee of the joy of thy life.
2. Thy nature is renewed and sanctified.  And when is a man at ease, if not when he is in health? and what is holiness, but the creature restored to his right temper, in which God created him?
3. Thou becomest a child of God, and that can­not but please thee well, I hope, to be a son or daughter to so great a King.
4. Thou hast a right to heaven’s glory, whither thou shalt ere long be conducted to take and hold possession of that thy inheritance for ever, and who can tell what that is?  Nicephorus tells us of one Agbarus, a great man, that—hearing so much of Christ’s fame, by reason of the miracles he wrought —sent a painter to take his picture, and that the painter when he came was not able to do it, because of the radiancy and splendour which sat on Christ’s face.  Whether this be true or no, I leave it; but, to be sure, there is such a brightness on the face of Christ glorified, and that happiness which in heaven saints shall have with him, as forbids us that dwell in mortal flesh to conceive of it aright, much more to express [it].  It is best going thither to be informed, and then we shall confess [that] we on earth heard not half of what we there find, yea, that our present conceptions are no more like to that vision of glory we shall there have, than the sun in the painter’s table is to the sun itself in the heavens.  And if all this be so, why then do you spend money for that which is not bread, and your labour for that which satisfieth not, yea, for that which keeps you from that which can satisfy?  Earthly things are like some trash, which doth not only not nourish, but takes away the appetite from that which would.  Heaven and heavenly things are not relished by a soul vitiated with these.  Manna, though for deliciousness called angels’ food, [is] yet but light bread to an Egyptian palate.  But these spiritu­al things depend not [so] on thy opinion, O man, whoever thou art—as earthly things in a great measure do—that the value of them should rise or fall as the world’s exchange doth, and as vain man is pleased to rate them.  Think gold dirt, and it is so, for all the royal stamp on it.  Count the swelling titles of worldly honour—that proud dust brags so in—vanity, and they are such; but have base thoughts of Christ, and he is not the worse.  Slight heaven as much as you will, it will be heaven still.  And when thou comest so far to thy wits, with the prodigal, as to know which is best fare, husks or bread, where best living, among hogs in the field or in thy Father’s house, then thou wilt know how to judge of these heavenly things better.  Till then, go and make the best market thou canst of the world, but look not to find this pearl of price—true satisfaction to thy soul —in any of the creature's shops; and were it not better to take it when thou mayest have it, than after thou hast wearied thyself in vain in following the creature, to come back with shame, and may be miss it here also, because thou wouldst not have it when it was offered?

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Some would have heaven, but if God save them he must save their sins also, for they do not mean to part with them; and how heaven can hold God and such company together, judge you.  As they come in at one door, Christ and all those holy spirits with him would run out at the other.  Ungrateful wretches, that will not come to this glorious feast, unless they may bring that with them which would disturb the joy of that blissful state, and offend all the guests that sit at the table with them, yea, drive God out of his own mansion-house.

           A second sort would have heaven, but—like him in Ruth, chap. 4:2-4, who had a mind to his kinsman Elime­lech’s land, and would have paid for the pur­chase, but liked not to have it by marrying Ruth, and so missed of it—some seem very forward to have heaven and salvation, if their own righteousness could procure the same—all the good they do, and duties they perform, they lay up for this purchase—but at last perish, because they close not with Christ, and take not heaven in his right.

           A third sort are content to have it by Christ, but their desires are so impotent and listless, that they put them upon no vigorous use of means to obtain him; and so, like the sluggard, they starve, because they will not pull their hands out of their bosom of sloth to reach their food that is before them.  For the world they have mettle enough, and too much; they trudge far and near for that, and when they have run themselves out of breath, can stand and ‘pant after the dust of the earth,’ as the prophet phraseth it, Amos 2:7.  But for Christ and obtaining interest in him, O how key-cold are they!  There is a kind of cramp in­vades all the powers of their souls, when they should pray, hear, examine their hearts, draw out their af­fections in hungerings and thirstings after his grace and Spirit.  It is strange to see how they [who] even now went full soop to the world, are suddenly be­calmed—not a breath of wind stirring to any purpose in their souls after these things—and is it any wonder that Christ and heaven should be denied to them, that have no more mind to them?

           Lastly. Some have zeal enough to have Christ and heaven, but it is when the Master of the house is risen, and hath shut to the door, and truly then they may stand long enough rapping, before any come to let them in.  There is no gospel preached in another world.  But as for thee, poor soul, who art persuaded to renounce thy lusts, to throw away the conceit of thy own righteousness, that thou mayest run with more speed to Christ, and art so possessed with the excellency of Christ, thy own present need of him, and [of] salvation by him, that thou pantest after him more than [after] life itself, in God’s name go and speed, be of good comfort; he calls thee by name to come unto him, that thou mayest have rest for thy soul.  There is an office in the Word where thou may­est have thy soul and its eternal happiness insured to thee.  Those that come to him, as he will himself in no wise cast away, so [he will] not suffer any other to pluck them away.  ‘This day,’ saith Christ to Zac­chaeus, ‘is salvation come to this house,’ Luke 19:9. Salvation comes to thee, poor soul, that openest thy heart to receive Christ; thou hast eternal life already, as sure as if thou wert a glorified saint now walking in that heavenly city.  O sirs, if there were a free trade proclaimed to the Indies, enough gold for all that went, and a certainty of making a safe voyage, who would stay at home? But alas, this can never be had. All this, and infinitely more, may be said for heaven; and yet how few leave their uncertain hopes of the world to trade for it?  What account can be given for this, but the desperate atheism of men’s hearts? They are not yet fully persuaded whether the Scripture speaks true or not; whether they may rely upon the discovery that God makes in his Word of this new found land, and those mines of spiritual treasure there to be had, as certain.  God open the eyes of the unbelieving world, as he did the prophet’s servants, that they may see these things in our hearts.  By faith Moses saw him that was invisible.

 Third Argument. Earthly things, when we have them, we are not sure of them.  Like birds, they hop up and down, now on this hedge, and anon upon that; none can call them his own.  [We may be] rich to-day, and poor to-morrow; in health when we lie down, and arrested with pangs of death before mid­night; joyful parents, one while solacing ourselves with the hopes of our budding posterity, and may be, ere long, knocks one of Job’s messengers at our door to tell us they are all dead; now in honour, but who knows whether we shall not live to see that buried in scorn and reproach?  The Scripture compares the multitude of people to waters—the great ones of the world sit upon these waters.  As the ship floats upon the waves, so do their honours upon the breath and favour of the multitude; and how long is he like to sit that is carried upon a wave?  One while they are mounted up to heaven, as David speaks of the ship, and then down again they fall into the deep.  ‘We have ten parts in the king,’ say the men of Israel, II Sam. 19:43; and in the very next verse Sheba doth but sound a trumpet of sedition, saying, ‘We have  no part in David, neither have we inheritance in the son of Jesse;’ and the wind is in another corner presently, for it is said, ‘Every man of Israel went up from after David, and followed Sheba.’  Thus was David cried up and down, and that almost in the same breath. Unhappy man he, that hath no surer portion than what this variable world will afford him.  The time of mourning for the departure of all earthly enjoyments is at hand.  We shall see them, as Eglon’s servants did their lord, fallen down dead before us, and weep be­cause they are not.  What folly then is it to dandle this vain world in our affections, whose joy, like the child's laughter on the mother's knee, is sure to end in a cry at last, and [to] neglect heaven and heavenly things, which endure forever?  

O remember Dives stirring up his pillow, and composing himself to rest! —how he was called up with the tidings of death before he was warm in this his bed of ease, which God had made for him in flames; from whence we hear him roaring in the anguish of his conscience.  O soul! couldst thou get but an interest in the heavenly things we are speaking of, these would not thus slip from under thee.  

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An exhortation to the pursuit of heaven and heavenly things 

           Use Third.  Is heaven and all that is heavenly that Satan seeks to hinder us of? let this provoke us the more earnestly to contend for them.  Had we to do with an enemy that came only to plunder us of earthly trifles, would honours, estates, and what this world affords us stay his stomach; it might suffer a debate, in a soul that hath hopes of heaven, whether it were worth fighting to keep this lumber; but Christ and heaven sure are too precious to part withal upon any terms.  ‘Ask the kingdom for him also,’ said Sol­omon to Bathsheba, when she begged Abishag for Adonijah.  What can the devil leave thee worth, if he deprive thee of these? and yet, I confess, I have heard of one that wished God would let him alone, and not take him from what he had here.  Vile brute! the voice of a swine and not a man, that could choose to wallow in the dung and ordure of his carnal pleasures, and wish himself for ever shut up with his swill in the hog’s coat of this dunghill earth, rather than leave these, to dwell in heaven’s palace, and be admitted to no meaner pleasures than what God himself with his saints enjoy.  It were even just if God gave such brutes as these a swine’s face to their swinish hearts; but alas! how few then should we meet that would have the countenance of a man? the greatest part of the world—even all that are carnal and worldly —being of the same mind, though not so impudent, as that wretch, to speak what they think.  The lives of men tell plain enough that they say in their hearts, it is good being here—that they wish they could build tabernacles on earth for all the mansions that are pre­pared in heaven.  ‘The transgression of the wicked,’ saith in David’s heart, ‘that the fear of God was not before them,’ Ps. 36:1; and may not the worldliness of a muck-worm say in the heart of any rational man, that heaven and heavenly excellences are not before their eyes or thoughts?  O what a deep silence is there concerning these in the conversations of men!  Heaven is such stranger to the most, that very few are heard to inquire the way thither, or so much as ask the question in earnest, What shall they do to be saved?  The most express no more desires of obtain­ing heaven, than those blessed souls now in heaven do of coming again to dwell on earth.  Alas! their heads are full of other projects; they are either, as Israel, scattered over the face of the earth to gather straw, or busied in picking that straw they have gathered, labouring to get the world, or pleasing themselves with what they got.  So that it is no more than needs to use some arguments to call men off the world to the pursuit of heaven, and what is heavenly.

           First Argument. As for earthly things, it is not necessary that thou hast them.  That is necessary which cannot be supplied per vicarium—with some­what besides itself.  Now there is no such earthly enjoyment but may be so supplied, as to make its room more desirable than its company.  In heaven there shall be light and no sun, a rich feast and yet no meat; glorious robes and yet no clothes, there shall want nothing, and yet none of this worldly glory [shall] be found there.  Yea, even while we are here these may be recompensed; thou mayest be under infirmities of body, and yet better than if thou hadst health.  ‘The inhabitant shall not say, I am sick, the people that dwell therein shall be forgiven their iniquity,’ Isa. 33:24.  Thou mayest miss of worldly hon­our, and obtain, with those worthies of Christ, Heb. 11, a good report by faith, and that is a name that is better than [that] of the great ones of the earth; thou mayest be poor in the world, and yet rich in grace, and ‘godliness with contentment is great gain;’ in a word, if thou partest with thy temporal life, and find­est an eternal, what dost thou lose by the change?  But heaven and heavenly things are such as cannot be recompensed with any other.  Thou hast a heavenly soul in thy bosom; lose that, and where canst thou have another?  There is but one heaven; miss that, and where can you take up your lodging but in hell? One Christ that can lead you thither; reject him, and ‘there remaineth no more sacrifice foe sins.’  O that men would think on these things.  Go, sinner, to the world, and see what it can afford you in lieu of these. May be it will offer to entertain you with its pleasures and delights.  O poor reward for the loss of Christ and heaven!  Is this all thou canst get?  Doth Satan rob thee of heaven and happiness, and only give thee posy to smell on as thou art going to thy execution?  Will these quench hellfire, or so much as cool those flames thou art falling into?  Who but those who have foredone their understandings, would take these toys and new nothings for Christ and heaven?  While Satan is pleasing your fancies with these rattles and babbles, his hand is in your treasure, robbing you of that which is only necessary.  It is more necessary to be saved, than to be; better not to be, than to have a being in hell.

           Second Argument. Earthly things are such as it is a great uncertainty whether, with all our labour, we can have them or not.  The world, though so many thousand years old, hath not learned the merchant such a method of trading, as from it he may infallibly conclude he shall at last get an estate by his trade, nor the courtier such rules of comporting himself to the humour of his prince as to assure him he shall rise. They are but few that carry away the prize in the world’s lottery; the greater number have only their labour for their pains, and a sorrowful remembrance left them of their egregious folly, to be led such a wild-goose chase after that which hath deceived them at last.  But now for the heaven and the things of heaven, there is such a clear and certain rule laid down, that if we will but take the counsel of the Word we can neither mistake the way, nor in that way miscarry of the end. ‘And as many as walk according to this rule, peace be on them, and mercy, and upon the Israel of God,’ Gal. 6:16.  There are some indeed who run, and yet obtain not this prize; that seek, and find not; [that] knock, and find the door shut upon them; but it is because they do it either not in the right manner, or in the right season.

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 (b) A gracious heart pursues earthly things with a holy indifferency, saving the violence and zeal of his spirit for the things of heaven.  He useth the former as if he used them not—with a kind of non-attendancy; his head and his heart is taken up with higher matters, how he may please God, thrive in his grace, enjoy more intimate communion with Christ in his ordinances; in all these he spreads all his sails, plies all his oars, strains every part and power.  Thus we find David upon his full speed, ‘My soul presseth hard after thee,’ Ps. 63.  And, before the ark, we find him dancing with all his might.  Now a carnal heart is clean contrary, his zeal is for the world, and his indif­ferency in the things of God; he prays as if he did not pray, &c., he sweats in his shop, but chills and grows cold in his closet.  O how hard to pulley him up to a duty of God's worship, or to get him out to an ordin­ance?  No weather shall keep him from the market; [let it] rain, blow, or snow, he goes thither; but if the church-path be a little wet, or the air somewhat cold, it is apology enough for him if his pew be empty. When he is about any worldly business, he is as earnest at it as the idolatrous smith in hammering of his image, who, the prophet saith, ‘worketh it with the strength of his arms: yea, he is hungry, and his strength faileth: he drinketh not, and is faint,’ Isa. 44:12.  So zealous is the muck-worm in his worldly employments, that he will pinch his carcase, and deny himself his repast in due season, to pursue that.  The kitchen there will wait on the shop; but in the wor­ship of God, it is enough to make him sick of the ser­mon, and angry with the preacher, if he be kept be­yond his hour.  Here the sermon must give place to the kitchen.  So the man for his pleasures and carnal pastime; he tells no clock at his sports, and knows not how the day goes; when night comes he is angry that it takes him off.  But at any heavenly work, O how is the man punished! time now hath leaden heels he thinks.  All he does at a sermon is to tell the clock, and see how the glass runs.  If men were not willing to deceive themselves, surely they might know which way their heart goes, by the swift motion, or the hard tugging, and slow pace it stirs, as well as they know in a boat, whether they row against the tide, or with it.

           (c) The Christian useth these things with a holy fear, lest earth should rob heaven, and his outward enjoyments prejudice his heavenly interest.  He eats in fear, works in fear, rejoiceth in his abundance with fear.  As Job sancti­fied his children by offering a sacri­fice, out of a fear lest they had sinned; so the Chris­tian is continually sanctifying his earthly enjoyments by prayer, that so he may be delivered from the snare of them.

3. Particular.  [Observe thy heart] in keeping of earthly things.  The same heavenly law, which the Christian went by in getting, he observes in holding, them.  As he dares not say he will be rich and honourable in the world, but if God will; so neither that he will hold what he hath.  He only keeps them, until his heavenly Father calls for them, that at first gave them.  If God will continue them to him, and entail them on his posterity too, he blesseth God; and so he desires to do also when he takes them away.  Indeed, God's meaning in the great things of the world, which sometimes he throws in upon the saints, is chiefly to give them the greater advantage of expressing their love to him, in denying them for his sake.  God never intended by that strange providence, in bringing Moses to Pharaoh’s court, to settle him there in worldly pomp and grandeur.  A carnal heart, indeed, would have expounded providence, and inter­preted it as a fair occasion put into his hands by God, to have advanced himself into the throne—which some say he might in time have done—but as an opportunity to make his faith and self-denial more eminently conspicuous, in throwing all these at his heels, for which he hath so honourable a remem­brance among the Lord’s worthies, Heb. 11:24,25.  And truly a gracious soul reckons he cannot make so much of his worldly interests any other way, as by offering them up for Christ's sake.  However that traitor thought Mary's ointment might have been carried to a better market, yet no doubt that good woman herself was only troubled that she had not one more precious to pour on her dear Saviour’s head. This makes the Christian ever to hold the sacrificing knife at the throat of his worldly enjoyments, ready to offer them up when God calls. Overboard they shall go, rather than hazard a wreck to faith or a good conscience; he sought them in the last place, and therefore he will part with them in the first.  Naboth will hazard the king’s anger—which at last cost him his life—rather than sell an acre or two of land which was his birthright.  The Christian will expose all he hath in this world to preserve his hopes for another.  Jacob, in his march towards Esau, sent his servants with his flocks before, and came himself with his wives behind; if he can save anything from his brother's rage, it shall be what he loves best: if the Christian can save anything, it shall be his soul, his interest in Christ and heaven, and then no matter if the rest go, even then he can say, not as Esau to Jacob, I have "9 (rÇv), a great deal, but as Jacob to him, I have -, (kÇl), all, all I want, all I desire, Gen. 33:9,11; as David expresseth it, ‘This is all my salva­tion, and all my desire,’ II Sam. 23:5.  Now try whether thy heart be tuned to this note: Does heaven give law to thy earthly enjoyments?—wouldst thou not keep thy honour, estate, no, not life itself, to prejudice thy heavenly nature and hopes?  Which wouldst thou choose, if thou couldst not keep both—a whole skin or a sound conscience?  It was a strange answer, if true, which the historian saith Henry V. gave to his father, who had usurped the crown, and now dying, sent for his son, to whom he said, ‘Fair son, take the crown (which stood on his pillow by his head), but God knows how I came by it.’  He answered, ‘I care not how you came by it; now I have it, I will keep it as long as my sword can defend it.’  He that keeps earth by wrong, cannot expect heaven by right.

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How the Christian might know whether heaven be the prize he chiefly desires

           Use Second. Try whether they be heavenly things or earthly thou chiefly pursuest.  Certainly, friends, we need not be so ignorant of our souls’ state and affairs, did we oftener converse with our thoughts, and observe the haunts of our hearts.  We soon can tell what dish pleaseth our palate best; and may you not tell whether heaven or earth be the most savoury meat to your souls?  And if you should ask how you might know whether heaven be the prize you chiefly desire, I would put you only upon this double trial.

1. Trial. Art thou uniform in thy pursuit?  Dost thou contend for heaven, and that which leads to heaven also?  Earthly things God is pleased to retail —all have some, none have all; but in heavenly treasure he will not break the whole piece, and cut it into remnants.  If thou wilt have heaven, thou must have Christ; if Christ, thou must like his service as well as his sacrifice.  No holiness, no happiness.  If God would cut off so much as would serve men’s turns, he might have customers enough.  Balaam himself likes one end of the piece, he would ‘die like a righteous man,’ though living like a wizard as he was.  No, God will not deal with such pedling mer­chants; that man alone is for God, and God for him, who will come roundly up to God’s offer, and take all off his hands.  One fitly compares holiness and hap­piness to those two sisters, Leah and Rachel. Happiness, like Rachel, seems the fairer—even a carnal heart may fall in love with that; but holiness, like Leah, is the elder and beautiful also, though in this life it appears with some disadvantage—her eyes being bleared with tears of repentance, and her face furrowed with the works of mortification; but this is the law of that heavenly country, that the younger sister must not be bestowed before the elder.  We cannot enjoy fair Rachel—heaven and happiness, ex­cept first we embrace tender-eyed Leah—holiness, with all her severe duties of repentance and mortifi­cation.  Now, sirs, how like you this method?  Art thou content to marry Christ and his grace; and then—serving a hard apprenticeship in temptations both of prosperity and adversity—enduring the heat of the one and the cold of the other—to wait till at last the other be given into thy bosom?

         Trial. If, indeed, heaven and heavenly things be the prize thou wrestlest for, thou wilt discover a heavenly deportment of heart, even in earthly things. Wherever you meet a Christian, he is going to heaven.  Heaven is at the bottom of his lowest actions.  Now observe thy heart in three particulars, in getting, in using, and in keeping earthly things, whether it be after a heavenly manner.

           (1.) Particular.  [Observe thy heart] in getting earthly things.  If heaven be thy chief prize, then thou wilt be ruled by a heavenly law in the gathering of these.  Take a carnal wretch, and what his heart is set on he will have, though it be by hook or crook.  A lie fits Gehazi’s mouth well enough, so he may fill his pockets by it.  Jezebel dares [to] mock God, and murder an innocent man, for an acre or two of ground.  Absalom, ‘for the sake of governing,’ what will he not do?  God’s fence is too low to keep a graceless heart in bounds, when the game is before him; but a soul that hath heaven in its eye is ruled by heaven’s law, and dares not step out of heaven’s road to take up a crown, as we see in David’s carriage towards Saul.  Indeed, in so doing he should cross himself in his own grand design, which is the glory of God, and the happiness of his own soul in enjoying of him.  Upon these very terms the servants of God have refused to be rich and great in the world, when either of these lay at stake.  Moses threw his court-preferment at his heels, refusing ‘to be called the son of Pharaoh's daughter.’  Abraham scorned to be made rich by the king of Sodom, Gen. 14:23, that he might avoid the suspicion of covetousness and self-seeking; it shall not be said another day that he came to enrich himself with the spoil, more than to rescue his kins­men.  Nehemiah would not take the tax and tribute to maintain his state, when he knew they were a poor peeled people, ‘because of the fear of the Lord.’  Dost thou walk by this rule? wouldst thou gather no more estate or honour than thou mayest have with God’s leave, and will stand with thy hopes of heaven?

           (2.) Particular.  [Observe thy heart] in using earthly things.  Dost thou discover a heavenly spirit in using these things?

           (a) The saint improves his earthly things for an heavenly end.  Where layest up thy treasure? dost thou bestow it on thy voluptuous paunch, thy hawks and thy hounds, or lockest thou it up in the bosom of Christ’s poor members?  what use makest thou of thy honour and greatness, to strengthen the hands of the godly or the wicked?  And so of all thy other temporal enjoyments—a gracious heart improves them for God.  When a saint prays for these things, he hath an eye to some heavenly end.  If David prays for life, it is not that he may live, but live and praise God, Ps. 119:175.  When he was driven from his regal throne by the rebellious arms of Absalom, see what his desire was and hope, ‘The king said unto Zadok, Carry back the ark of God into the city: if I shall find favour in the eyes of the Lord, he will bring me again, and shew me both it, and his habitation,’ II Sam. 15:25.  Mark, not ‘show me my crown, my palace,’ but ‘the ark, the house of God.’

Use or Application. A word of reproof to four sorts of persons

We come to the

           Use First. This is a word of reproof to four sorts of persons.

1. Sort. Is a word of reproof to those that are so far from wrestling against Satan for this heavenly prize, that they resist the offer of it.  Instead of taking heaven by force, they keep it off by force.  How long hath the Lord been crying in our streets, ‘Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand? how long have gos­pel offers rung in our ears? and yet to this day many devil-deluded souls furiously drive on towards hell, and will not be persuaded back—who refuse to be called the children of God, and choose rather the dev­il’s bondage, than the glorious liberty with which Christ would make them free; esteeming the pleasures of sin for a season greater treasures than the riches of heaven.  It is storied of Cato, who was Cæsar’s bitter enemy, that when he saw Cæsar pre­vail, rather than fall into his hand and stand to his mercy, he laid violent hands on himself, which Cæsar hearing of, passionately broke out into these words, ‘O Cato, why didst thou grudge me the honour of saving thy life?’  And do not many walk as if they grudged Christ the honour of saving their souls?  What other account can ye give, sinners, of rejecting his grace?  Are not heaven and happiness things desir­able, and to be preferred before sin and misery?  Why then do you not embrace them?  Or are they the worse because they come swimming to you in the blood of Christ?  O how ill must Christ take it to be thus used, when he comes on such a gracious embas­sage!  May he not say to thee, as once he did to those officers sent to attach him, ‘Be ye come out as against a thief with swords and staves?’  If he be a thief, it is only in this, that he would steal your sins from you, and leave heaven in the room.  O, for the love of God, think what you do; it is eternal life you put away from you, in doing of which, you judge yourselves unworthy of it, Acts 13:46.
2. Sort. It reproves those who are Satan’s ins­truments to rob souls of what is heavenly.  Among thieves there are some ye call setters, who inquire where a booty is to be had; which, when they have found, and know [that] such a one travels with a charge about him, then they employ some other to rob him, and are themselves not seen in the business. The devil is the grand setter, he observes the Chris­tian how he walks—what place and company he fre­quents, what grace or heavenly treasure he carries in his bosom—which, when he hath done, he hath his instruments for the purpose to execute his design. Thus he considered the admirable graces of Job, and casts about how he might best rob him of his heav­enly treasure.  And who but his wife and friends must do this for him?—well knowing that his tale would receive credit from their mouths.  O friends, ask your consciences whether you have not done the devil some service of this kind in your days.  Possibly you have a child or servant who once looked heavenward, but your brow-beating of them scared them back, and now, may be, they are as carnal as you would have them.  Or possibly thy wife, before acquainted with thee, was full of life in the ways of God, but since she hath been transplanted into thy cold soil, what by thy frothy speeches and unsavoury conversation, at best thy worldliness and formality, she is now both de­cayed in her graces and a loser in her comforts.  O man, what an indictment will be brought against thee for this at God's bar?  You would come off better were it for robbing one of his money and jewels, than of his grace and comforts.
3. Sort. It reproves the woeful negligence [which] most show in labouring for this heavenly prize.  None but would be glad their souls might be saved at last; but where is the man or woman that makes it appear by their vigorous endeavour that they mean in earnest?  What warlike preparation do they make against Satan, who lies between them and home? where are their arms? where their skill to use them, their resolution to stand to them, and unconscionable care to exercise themselves daily in the use of them?  Alas, this is a rarity indeed, not to be found in every house where the profession of religion is hanged out at the door.  If woulding and wishing will bring them to heaven, then they may come thither; but as for this wrestling and fighting, this making religion our business, they are as far from these as at last they are like to be from heaven.  They are of his mind in Tully, who in a summer's day, as he lay lazing himself on the grass, would say, ‘O that this were to work  that I would lie here and do my day labour.  Thus many melt and waste their lives in sloth, and say in their hearts, ‘O that this were the way to heaven!’ but will use no means to furnish themselves with grace for such an enterprise.  I have read of a great prince in Germany, invaded by a more potent enemy than himself, yet from his friends and allies, who flocked in to his help, he soon had a goodly army, but had no money, as he said, to pay them; but the truth is, he was loath to part with it, for which some in discontent went away, others did not vigorously attend his business, and so he was soon beaten out of his kingdom, and his coffers, when his palace was rifled, were found thracke  with treasure.  Thus he was ruined, as some sick men die because unwilling to be at cost to pay the physician.  It will add to the misery of damned souls, when they shall have leisure enough to consider what they have lost in losing God, to remember what means, offers, and talents they once had towards the obtaining of ever­lasting life, but had not a heart to use them.
4. Sort. It reproves those who make a great bustle and noise in religion, who are forward in pro­fession—very busy to meddle with the strictest duties, as if heaven had monopolized their whole hearts; but like the eagle, when they tower highest, their prey is below, where their eye is also.  Such a generation there ever was and will be—that mingle themselves with the saints of God—who pretend heaven, and have their outward garb faced and fringed, as it were, with heavenly speeches and duties, while their hearts are lined with hypocrisy—whereby they deceive others, but most of all themselves.  Such may be the world's saints, but [they are] devils in Christ’s account.  ‘Have not I chosen you twelve, and one of you is a devil!’  And truly of all devils, none so bad as the professing devil, the preaching, praying devil.  O sirs, be plain-hearted.  Religion is as tender as your eye, it will not be jested with.  Remember the ven­geance which fell on Belshazzar, while he caroused in the bowls of the sanctuary.  Religion and the duties of it are consecrated things, not made for thee to drink thy lusts out of.  God hath remarkably appeared in discovering and confounding such as have prostituted sacred things to worldly ends.  Jezebel fasts and prays, the better to devour Naboth’s vineyard, but was de­voured by it.  Absalom was as sick till he had ravished his father’s crown, as his brother Amnon, till he had done the like to his sister, and to hide his treason he puts on a religious cloak, and therefore begs leave to go and pay his vow in Hebron, when he had another game in chase; and did he not fall by the hand of his hypocrisy?  Of all men their judgement is endorsed with most speed, who silver over worldly or wicked enterprises with heavenly semblances.  Of this gang were those concerning whom the apostle saith, ‘their damnation slumbereth not,’ II Peter 2:3; and those to whom God saith, ‘I the Lord will answer him by my­self, and I will set my face against that man, and will make him a sign and a proverb, and I will cut him off from the midst of my people; and ye shall know that I am the Lord,’ Eze. 14:7,8.

The prize which believers wrestle for is heavenly 2/2

Within doors.  This I may call his home-trade, which is spent in secret, between God and his own soul.  Here the Christian drives an unknown trade, he is at heaven, and home again richly laden in his thoughts and heavenly meditations before the world knows where he hath been.  Every creature he sees is a text for his heart to raise some spiritual matter and observations from.  Every sermon he hears cuts him out work to make up and enlarge upon when he gets alone.  Every providence is as wind to his sails, and sets his heart a moving in some heavenly action or other suitable to the occasion.  One while he is wrapped up with joy in the consideration of mercy, another while melted into godly sorrow for the sense of his sins; sometimes exalting God in his praises, anon abusing himself before God for his own vileness.  One while he is at the breast of the coven­ant, milking out the consolations of the promises; at another time working his heart into a holy awe, and fear of the threatenings.  Thus the Christian walks aloft, while the base worldling is licking the dust be­low.  One of these heavenly pearls which the Chris­tian trades for, is more worth than the worldling gets with all his sweat and travail in his whole life.  The Christian's feet stand where other men's heads are. He treads on the moon, and is clothed with the sun, he looks down on earthly men—as one from a high hill doth upon those that live in some fen or moor—and sees them buried in a fog of carnal pleasures and profits, while he breathes in a pure heavenly air, but yet not so high as to be free from all storms and tempests.  Many a sad gust he hath from sin and Satan without.  What else mean those sad complaints and groans, which come from the children of God—that their hearts are so dead and dull, their thoughts so roving and unfixed in duty, yea, many times so wicked and filthy, that they dare hardly tell what they are, for fear of staining their own lips, and offending the ears of others by naming them?  Surely, the Christian finds it in his heart to will and desire he could meditate, pray, hear, and live after another sort than this, doth he not? yes, I durst be his surety he doth.  But so long as there is a devil [who] tempts, and we continue within his walk, it will be thus, more or less.  As fast as we labour to clear the spring of our hearts, he will be labouring to royle or stop it again; so that we have two works to do at once, to perform a duty, and watch him that opposeth us—trowel and sword both in our hands.  They had need work hard indeed, who have others continually endeavouring to pull down, as they are labouring to rear up, the building.

1. Abroad.  That part of the Christian’s trade, which lies abroad, is heavenly also.  Take a Christian in his relations, calling, neighbourhood; he is a heav­enly trader in all.  The great business of his life is to be doing or receiving some good.  That company is not for him, that will neither give nor take this. What should a merchant be, where there is no buying or selling?  Every one labours, as his calling is, to seat himself where trade is quickest, and he is likeliest to have most takings.  The Christian, where he may choose, takes such in relations near to himself, hus­band, wife, servants, as may suit with his heavenly trade, and not such as will be a pull-back to him.  He falls in with the holiest persons as his dearest ac­quaintance; if there be a saint in the town where he lives, he will find him out, and this will be the man he will consort with.  And in his conversation with these and all else, his chief work is for heaven, his heavenly principle within inclines him to it.  Now, this alarms hell.  What! not contented to go to heaven himself, but by his holy example, gracious speeches, sweet counsels, seasonable reproofs, will he be trading with others, and labour to carry them along with him also? This brings the lion fell and mad out of his den.  Such to be sure shall find the devil in their way to oppose them.  I would have come, saith Paul, but Satan hindered me.  He that will vouch God, and let it appear by the tenor of his conversation that he trades for him, shall have enemies enough, if the devil can help him to such.

           Third. The Christian’s hopes are all heavenly; he lots not upon anything the world hath to give him.  Indeed he would think himself the most miserable man of all others, if here were all he could make of his religion.  No, it is heaven and eternal life that he expects; and though he be so poor as not to be able to make a will of a groat, yet he counts himself a greater heir, than if he were child to the greatest prince on earth.  This inheritance he sees by faith, and can rejoice in the hope of the glory which it will bring him.  The maskery and cheating glory of the great ones of this world moves him not to envy their fanciful pomp; but when on the dunghill himself, he can forget his own present sorrows, to pity them in all their bravery, knowing that within a few days the cross will be off his back, and the crowns off their heads together—their portion will be spent, when he shall be to receive all his.  These things entertain him with such joy that they will not suffer him to ac­knowledge himself miserable, when others think him, and the devil tells him, he is such.  This, this tor­ments the very soul of the devil, to see the Christian under sail for heaven, filled with the sweet hope of his joyful entertainment when he comes there; and therefore he raiseth what storms and tempests he can, either to hinder his arrival in that blessed port —which he most desires, and doth not wholly despair of—or at least to make it a troublesome winter voyage, such as Paul's was, in which they suffered so much loss.  And this indeed very often he obtains in such a degree, that by his violent impetuous temp­tations, beating long upon the Christian, he makes him throw over much precious lading of his joys and comforts; yea, sometimes he brings the soul through the stress of temptation to think of quitting the ship, while for the present all hope of being saved seems to be taken away.  Thus you see what we wrestle with devils for. 

The prize which believers wrestle for is heavenly

The prize which believers wrestle for is heavenly.

           Doctrine. The chief prize for which we wrestle against Satan is heavenly.  Or thus, Satan’s main de­sign is to spoil and plunder the Christian of all that is heavenly.  Indeed, all the Christian hath, or desires as a Christian, is heavenly.  The world is extrinsical, both to his being and happiness, it is a stranger to the Christian, and intermeddles not with his joy or grief. Heap all the riches and honours of the world upon a man, they will not make him a Christian; heap them on a Christian, they will not make him a better Christian.  Again, take them all away—let every bird have his feather—when stripped and naked, he will still be a Christian, and may be a better Christian.  It was a notable speech of Erasmus, if spoken in ear­nest, and his wit were not too quick for his con­science—he said he desired wealth and honour no more than a feeble horse doth a heavy cloak-bag.  And I think every Christian in his right temper would be of his mind.  Satan should do the saint little hurt, if he did bend his forces only or chiefly against his outward enjoyments.  Alas, the Christian doth not value them, or himself by them; this were as if one should think to hurt a man by beating of his clothes when he hath put them off.  So far as the Spirit of grace prevails in the heart of a saint, he hath put off the world in the desire of it and joy in it, so that these blows are not much felt; and therefore they are his heavenly treasures, which are the booty Satan waits for.

           First. The Christian’s nature is heavenly, born from above.  As Christ is the Lord from heaven, so all his offspring are heavenly and holy.  Now Satan’s design is to debase and deflower this; it is the precious life of this new creature that he hunts for; he hath lost that beauty of holiness which once shone so gloriously on his angelical nature; and now, like a true apostate, he endeavours to ruin that in a Chris­tian which he hath lost himself.  The seeds of this war are sown in the Christian's nature.  You are holy. That he cannot endure.  Miles feri faciem,was Cæsar’s speech, when to fight with the Roman citi­zens, he bade his soldiers ‘strike at their face,’ these citizens, said he, love their beauty; mar that and mar all.  The soul is the face whereon God’s image is stamped, holiness is the beauty of this face, which makes us indeed like God.  This, Satan knows, God loves, and the saint is chary of, and therefore he labours to wound and disfigure this, that he may at once glory in the Christian’s shame, and pour contempt upon God in breaking his image.  And is it not worth engaging limb and life in battle against this enemy, who would rob us of that which makes us like God himself?  Have you forgot the bloody articles of peace that Nahash offered to the men of Jabesh-Gilead? no peace to be had, except they would let him thrust out their right eyes, and lay it for a reproach upon all Israel.  How was this entertained, read I Sam. 11:6.  The face is not so deformed that hath lost its eye, as the soul is that loseth its holiness, and no peace is to be expected at Satan’s hands, ex­cept he may deprive us of this.  Methinks at the thought of this, the Spirit of the Lord should come upon the Christian, and his anger be kindled much more against this cursed spirit, than Saul’s, and the men of Israel’s was against Nahash.

           Second. The Christian's trade is heavenly, The merchandise he deals for is the growth of that heav­enly country.  ‘Our conversation is in heaven,’ Php. 3:20.  Every man’s conversation is suitable to his calling.  He whose trade lies in the earth minds earthly things, and he whose trade is heavenly follows that close.  Every man minds his own business, the apostle tells us.  You may possibly find a tradesman out of his shop now and then, but he is as a fish out of the water, never in his element till he be in his calling again.  Thus when the Christian is about the world, and the worldling about heavenly matters, both are men out of their way, not right girt, till they get into their employment again.  Now this heavenly trade is that which Satan doth in an especial manner labour to stop.  Could the Christian enjoy but a free trade with heaven a few years without molestation, he would soon grow a rich man, too rich indeed for earth.  But what with losses sustained by the hands of this pirate Satan, and also the wrong he receives by the treachery of some, in his own bosom, that like unfaithful servants hold correspondence with this robber, he is kept but low in this life, and much of his gains are lost.  Now the Christian’s heavenly trade lies either within doors or abroad; he can be free in neither, Satan is at his heels in both.

‘In high places,’ or for heavenly things

‘In high places,’ or for heavenly things.

           These words contain the last branch in the description of our grand enemy, which have in them some ambi­guity—the adjective being only expressed in the original,  that is, [the] heavenlies.  The phrase being defective, our trans­lators read it ‘in high’ or heavenly ‘places,’ as if the apostle intended to set out the advantage of place which this our enemy, by being above us, hath of us. Indeed this way most interpreters go, yet some both ancient and modern read the words, not ‘in heavenly places,’ but ‘in heavenly things,’ inter­preting the apostle’s mind to set out the matter about which, or prize for which, we wrestle with principalities and powers to be heavenly things;  saith Occumenius, is as much as if the apostle had said, ‘We wrestle not for small and trivial things, but for heavenly,’ yea, for heaven itself, and our adop­tion, as he goes on.  The same way Chrysostom car­ries it—in heavenly things, that is, for the heavenly things of God; and, after him, Musculus, and other modern writers.  The reasons which are given for this interpretation are weighty.

           Reason First. The word elsewhere indefinitely set down, is taken for things, not places, Heb. 8:5, nay, one observes this word used almost twenty times in the New Testament, and never for any aerial place, but always for things truly heavenly and spiritual. The word, indeed, properly signifies super-celestial, and if applied to places, would signify that where the devil never came since his fall.

           Reason Second. There seems no great argument to render Satan formidable by his being above us in place.  It is some advantage, indeed, to men, to gain the hill, or be above their enemies in some place of strength, but none at all to spirits.  But now take it of things, and then it adds weight to all the other branches of the description.  We wrestle with princi­palities and powers and spiritual wickedness, and against all these, not for such toys and trifles as the earth affords, which are inconsiderable, whether to keep or lose, but for such as heaven holds forth, such an enemy and such a prize makes it a matter of our greatest care how to manage the combat.  The word thus opened, the note will be this.

Third Kind of Spiritual Pride — PRIDE OF PRIVILEGES 3/3

1. To look that thou measurest not thy grace by thy comfort, lest so thou beest led into a false opinion that thy grace is strong, because thy comforts are so. Satan will be ready to help forward such thought as a fir medium to lift thee up, and slacken thy care in duty for the future.  Such discoveries do indeed bear witness to the truth of thy grace, but not to the degree and measure of it.  The weak child may be, yea, is, oftener in the lap than the strong.
2. Do not so much applaud thyself in thy pres­ent comfort, as labour to improve it, for the glory of God.  ‘Arise and eat,’ saith the angel to the prophet, ‘because the journey is too great for thee.’  The mani­festations of God's love are to fit us for our work.  It is one thing to rejoice in the light of our comfort, and another to go forth in the power of the Spirit com­forting us—as giants refreshed with this wine—to run our race of duty and obedience with more strength and alacrity.  He shows his pride that spends his time in telling his money merely to see how rich he is; but he his wisdom, that lays out his money and trades with it.  The boaster of his comforts will lose what he hath, when he that improves his comforts in a fuller trade of duty shall add more to what he hath.
3. Remember thou dependest on God for the continuance of thy comfort.  They are not the smiles thou hadst yesterday [that] make thee joyous to-day, any more than the bread thou didst then eat can make thee strong without more.  Thou needest new discoveries for new comforts.  Let God hide his face, and thou wilt soon lose the sight, and forget the taste, of what thou even now hadst.  It is beyond our skill or power to preserve those impressions of joy, and comfortable apprehensions of God's favour on our spirits, which sometimes we find; as God's presence brings those, so, when he goes, he carries them away with him, as the setting sun doth the day.  We would laugh heartily at him who, when the sun shines in at his window, should think by shutting that to imprison the sunbeams in his chamber; and dost thou now show as much folly, who thinkest, because thou now hast comfort, thou therefore shalt never be in dark­ness of spirit more?  The believer’s comfort is like Israel’s manna.  It is not like the ordinary bread and provision we buy at market, and lock up in our cup­boards where we can go to it when we will; no, it is rained, as that was, from heaven.  Indeed, God pro­vided for them after this sort to humble them: ‘Who fed thee in the wilderness with manna, which thy fathers knew not, that he might humble thee,’ Deut. 8:16.  It was not because [it was] such mean food, that God is said to humble them, for it was delicious food, therefore called ‘angels' food,’ Ps. 78:25, such as if angels did eat, might serve them; but the manner of the dispensing it—from hand to mouth, every day their portion, and no more.  Thus God kept the key of their cupboard—they stood to his immediate allowance; and thus God communicates our spiritual comforts for the same end, to humble us.  So much for this second sort of spiritual wickedness.

           I had thought to have instanced in some others, as hypocrisy, unbelief, formality; but possibly the sub­ject being general, what I have already said may be thought but a digression, and that too long.  I shall therefore conclude this branch of spiritual wicked­ness, in a word to those who are yet in a natural and unsanctified state—which is to stir them up, from what I have said concerning Satan’s assaulting believers with such temptations, to consider seriously how that Satan’s chief design against them also lies in the same sins.  It is your seared conscience, blind mind, and dedolent impenitent heart, will be your undoing, if you miscarry finally.  Other sins, the devil knows, are preparatory to these, and therefore he draws thee into them to bring thee into these.  Two ways they prepare a way to spiritual sins:  First. As they naturally dispose the sinner to them; it is the nature of sin to blind the mind, stupify the conscience, harden the heart, as is implied, ‘Lest any of you be hardened through the deceitfulness of sin,’ Heb. 3:13.  As the feet of travellers beat the highway hard, so does walking in carnal gross sins the heart. They benumb the conscience, so that in time the sin­ner loses his feeling, and can carry his lusts in his heart, as bedlams their pins in their very flesh, without pain and remorse.  Secondly, As they do provoke God by a judiciary act to give them up to these sins, ‘Give them obstinacy of heart,’ Lam. 3:65, so it is in your margin, ‘thy curse unto them;’ and when the devil hath got sinners at this pass, then he hath them under lock and key.  They are the fore­runners of damnation.  If God leave thy heart hard and unbroken up, it is a sad sign he means not to sow the seed of grace there.  O sinners, pray, as he, Acts 8:24, did request Peter for him, that none of these things may come upon you; which that they may not, take heed thou rejectest not the offers he makes to soften thee.  God’s hardening is a consequent of, and a punishment for, our hardening our own hearts.  It is most true what Prosper saith, ‘A man may lose temporals against his will, but not spirituals.’  God will harden none, damn none, against their will.

Third Kind of Spiritual Pride — PRIDE OF PRIVILEGES 2/3

2. Consider who bears thee up, and carries thee through thy sufferings for Christ.  Is it thy grace, or his, that is sufficient for such a work? thy spirit, or Christ's, by which thou speakest when called to bear witness for the truth?  How comes it to pass [that] thou art a sufferer and not a persecutor? a confessor, and not a denier, yea, betrayer of Christ and his gos­pel?  This thou owest for to God.  He is not behol­den to thee, that thou wilt part with estate, credit, or life itself for his sake—if thou hadst a thousand lives, thou wouldst owe them all to him; but thou art beholden to God exceedingly, that he will call for these in this way, which has such an honour and reward attending it.  He might have suffered thee to live in thy lusts, and at last to suffer the loss of all these for them.  O how many die at the gallows as martyrs in the devil’s cause, for felonies, rapes and murders!  Or, he might withdraw his grace, and leave thee to thy own cowardice and unbelief, and then thou wouldst soon show thyself in thy colours.  The stoutest champions for Christ have been taught how weak they are if Christ steps aside.  Some that have given great testimony of their faith and resolution in Christ's cause—even to come so near dying for his name as to give themselves to be bound to the stake, and [to the] fire to be kindled upon them—yet then their hearts have failed, as that holy man Mr. Ben­bridge, in our English martyrology, who thrust the faggots from him, and cried out, 'I recant, I recant.’  Yet this man, when reinforced in his faith, and en­dued with power from above, was able, within the space of a week after that sad foil, to die at the stake cheerfully.  ‘He that once overcame death for us, is he that always overcomes death in us.’And who should be thy song, but he that is thy strength? ap­plaud not thyself, but bless him.  It is one of God’s names; he is called ‘the glory of his people’s strength,’ Ps. 89:17.  The more thou gloriest in God that gives thee strength to suffer for him, the less thou wilt boast of thyself.  A thankful heart and a proud cannot dwell together in one bosom.

3. Consider what a foul blot pride gives to all thy sufferings; where it is not bewailed and resisted, it alters the case.  The old saying is, that it is not the punishment but the cause [that] makes the martyr.  We may safely say further, ‘It is not barely the cause, but the sincere frame of the heart in suffering for a good cause, that makes a man a martyr in God's sight.’  Though thou shouldst give thy body to be burned, if thou hast not the humble heart of a suf­ferer for Christ, thou turnest merchant for thyself.  Thou deniest but one self, to set up another; runnest the hazard of thy estate and life, to gain some ap­plause may be, and rear up a monument to thy hon­our in the opinions of men.  Thou doest no more, in this case, than a soldier, who for a name of valour will venture into the mouth of death and danger; only thou showest thy pride under a religious disguise; but that helps it not, but makes it the worse.  If thou wilt in thy sufferings be a sacrifice acceptable to God, thou must not only be ready to offer up thy life for his truth, but [to] sacrifice thy pride also, or else thou mayst tumble out of one fire into another—suffer here from man as a seeming champion for the gospel, and in another world from God, for robbing him of his glory in thy sufferings.

           Third Privilege. A third privilege is, when God flows in with more than ordinary manifestations of his love.  Then the Christian is in danger of having his heart secretly lift up in pride.  Indeed, the genuine and natural effect which such discoveries of divine love have on a gracious soul is to humble it.  The sight of mercy increaseth the sense of sin, and that sense dissolves the soul kindly into sorrow, as we see in Magdalene.  The heart which possibly was hard and frozen in the shade, will give and thaw in the sunshine of love, and so long is pride hid from the creature’s eye.  ‘Then,’ saith God, ‘shall ye remember your own evil ways, and your doings that were not good, and shall loathe yourselves in your own sight,’ &c., Eze. 36:31.  And when shall this be, but when God would save them from all their uncleannesses? as appears, ver. 25; yet notwithstanding this, there remain such dregs of corruption unpurged out of the best, that Satan finds it not impossible to make the mani­festations of God's love an occasion of pride to the Christian.  And truly God lets us see our proneness to this sin in the short stay he makes, when he comes with any greater discoveries of his love.  The Com­forter, it is true, abides for ever in the saint's bosom; but his joys, they come and are gone again quickly.  They are as exceedings with which he feasts the be­liever, but the cloth is soon drawn; and why so, but because we cannot bear them for our everyday food?  A short interview of heaven, and a vision of love now and then upon the mount of an ordinance, or afflic­tion, cheers the spirits of drooping Christians, who —might they have leave to build their tabernacles there, and dwell under a constant shine of such mani­festations—would be prone to forget themselves, and think they were lords of their own comforts.  If holy Paul was in danger of falling into this distemper of pride from his short rapture—to prevent which, God saw it needful to let him bleed with a thorn in the flesh—would not our blood much more grow too rank, and we too crank and wanton, if we should feed long on such luscious food?  And therefore, if ever, Christian, thou hadst need to watch, then is the time—when comforts abound, and God dandles thee most on the knee of his love—when his face shines with clearest manifestations; lest this sin of pride, as a thief in the candle, should swale out thy joy.  To prevent which, thou shouldst do well,

Third Kind of Spiritual Pride — PRIDE OF PRIVILEGES 1/3

         

  Third. Pride of privileges is the third kind of spiritual pride, with which these wicked spirits labour to blow up the Christian.  To name three [of these privileges]: First. When God calls a person to some eminent place, or useth him to do some special piece of service.  Second. When God honours a saint to suffer for his truth or cause.  Third. When God flows in with more than ordinary manifestations of his love, and fills the soul with joy and comfort.  These are privileges not equally dispensed to all; and therefore, where they are, Satan takes advantage of assaulting such with pride.

           First Privilege. When God calls a person to some eminent place, or useth him to do some special piece of service.  Indeed it requires a great measure of grace to keep the heart low, when the man stands high. The apostle, speaking how a minister of the gospel should be qualified, saith he must not be ‘a novice,’ or a young convert, ‘lest being lifted up with pride, he fall into the condemnation of the devil,’ I Tim 3:6; as if he had said, ‘This calling is honourable, if he be not well balanced with humility, a little gust from Satan will topple him into this sin.’  The seventy that Christ first sent out to preach the gospel, and [who] prevailed so miraculously over Satan—even these, while they trod on the serpent's head, he turned again, and had like to have stung them with pride. This our Saviour perceived, when they returned in triumph, and told what great miracles they had wrought; and therefore he takes them off that glorying, lest it should degenerate into vainglory, and bids them ‘rejoice not that spirits are subject to you, but rather rejoice because your names are written in heaven,’ Luke 10:20.  As if he had said, ‘It is not the honour of your calling, and success of your ministry [that] will save you.  There shall be some cast to the devils, who shall then say, “Lord, Lord, in thy name we have cast out devils,” and therefore value not yourselves by that, but rather evidence to your souls, that you are mine elect ones, which will stand you more in stead at the great day than all this.’

           Second Privilege. A second privilege is, when God honours a person to suffer for his truth.  This is a great privilege.  ‘Unto you it is given in the behalf of Christ, not only to believe on him, but also to suffer for his sake,’ Php. 1:29.  God doth not use to give worthless gifts to his saints, there is some precious­ness in it, which a carnal eye cannot see.  Faith, you will say, is a great gift, but perseverance greater —without which faith would be little worth—and perseverance in suffering is, above both, honourable.  This made John Careless, our English martyr—who, though he died not at the stake, yet [died] in prison for Christ—say, ‘Such an honour it is, as angels are not permitted to have, therefore God forgive me mine unthankfulness.’  Now when Satan cannot scare a soul from prison, yet then he will labour to puff him up in prison; when he cannot make him pity himself, then he will flatter him till he prides in himself.  Affliction from God, exposeth to impatience, afflic­tion for God, to pride; and therefore, Christians, la­bour to fortify yourselves against this temptation of Satan.  How soon you may be called to suffering work you know not—such clouds oft are not long arising. Now to keep thy heart humble when thou art honoured to suffer for the truth, consider,

1. Though thou dost not deserve those suffer­ings at man’s hand, thou canst and mayst, in that regard, glory in thy innocency [that] thou sufferest not as an evildoer; yet thou canst not but confess it is a just affliction from God in regard of sin in thee, and this methinks should keep thee humble.  The same suffering may be martyrdom in regard of man, and yet a fatherly chastening for sin in regard of God.  None suffered without sin but Christ, and therefore none may glory in sufferings but he—Christ in his own, we in his.  ‘God forbid that I should glory, save in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ,’ Gal. 6:14.  This kept Mr. Bradford humble in his sufferings for the truth. None more rejoiced in them, and blessed God for them, yet none more humble under them, than he. And what kept him in this humble frame?  Read his godly letters, and you shall find almost in all how he bemoans his sins, and the sins of the Protestants under the reign of king Edward, ‘It was time,’ saith he, ‘for God to put his rod into the Papists’ hands.  We were grown so proud, formal, unfruitful, yea, to loathe and despise the means of grace, when we en­joyed the liberty thereof, and therefore God hath brought the wheel of persecution on us.’  As he looked at the honour to make him thankful, so to sin to make him humble.

Why The Christian Should Not Rest On Any Inherent Work of Grace

First. Thy grace cannot thrive so long as thou thus restest upon it.  A legal spirit is no friend to grace; nay, is a bitter enemy against it, as appeared by the Pharisees in Christ's time.  Grace comes not by the law, but by Christ; thou mayest stand long enough by it, before thou gettest any life of grace into thy soul, or further life into thy grace.  If thou wouldst have this, thou must set thyself under Christ’s wings by faith.  From his Spirit in the gospel alone comes this kindly natural heat to hatch thy soul to the life of holiness, and increase what thou hast; and thou canst not come under Christ’s wings, till thou comest from under the shadow of the other, by renouncing all expectation from thy own works and services.  You know Reuben’s curse—that he should not excel, because he went up into his father's bed. When other tribes increased, he stood at a little num­ber.  By trusting in thy own works thou dost worse by Christ, and shalt thou excel in grace?  Perhaps some of you have been long professors, and yet [have] come to little growth in love to God, humility, heavenly-mindedness, mortification; and it is worth the digging to see what lies at the root of your profession —whether there be not a legal principle that hath too much acted you.  Have you not thought to carry all with God from your duties and services, and too much laid up your hopes in your own actings?  Alas! this is as so much dead earth, which must be thrown out, and gospel principles laid in the room thereof. Try but this course, and see whether the spring of thy grace will not come on apace.  David gives an account how he came to stand and flourish, when some that were rich and mighty, on a sudden withered and came to nothing.  ‘Lo,’ saith he, ‘this is the man that made not God his strength, but trusted in the abundance of his riches.’  ‘But I am like a green olive tree in the house of God; I trust in the mercy of God for ever and ever,’ Ps. 52:7-8.  While others trust in the riches of their own righteousness and services, and make not Christ their strength, do thou renounce all, and trust in the mercy of God in Christ, and thou shalt be like a green olive when they fade and wither.

Second. Christian, you will not thrive in true comfort so long as you rest in any inherent work of grace, and do not stand clear of your own actings and righteousness.  Gospel-comfort springs from a gospel-root, which is Christ.  ‘We are the circumcision, which worship God in the spirit, and rejoice in Christ Jesus, and have no confidence in the flesh,’ Php. 3:3. Now a soul that rests on any holiness in himself, he grafts his comfort upon himself, not upon Christ; he sucks his own breast, not Christ’s, and so makes Christ a dry nurse; and what comfort can grow on that dry tree?  The Spirit is our comforter as well as our teacher and counsellor.  Now as the Spirit, when he teacheth, comes not with any new or strange truth, but takes of Christ's own—what he finds in the Word; so where he comforts, he takes of Christ’s own —his righteousness, not our own.  Christ is the mat­ter and ground of his comfort.  All cordials are but Christ distilled, and made up in several promises; his acting, not ours; his suffering, not ours; his holi­ness, not ours.  He doth not say, ‘Soul, rejoice! thou art holy,’ but ‘Soul, triumph!  Christ is righteous, and is the Lord thy righteousness;’ not, ‘Soul, thou pray­est sweetly, fear not;’ but, ‘Thou hast an Advocate with the Father, Jesus Christ the righteous;’ so that the first step to the receiving of comfort from the Spirit, is to send away all comforts of our own. 

As in learn­ing of the Spirit, he that will be taught by him, must first become a fool—that is, no way lean to his own understanding; so he that would be comforted, must first be emptied of all self-supports, must not lean on his own comforts.  As a physician first bids his patient cast off all others he hath tampered with, asks what physic he hath had from them, takes off their plas­ters, throws away their physic, and goes about the work de novo—anew; so the Spirit, when he comes to comfort a poor soul, first persuades the soul to send away all its old physicians.  O, saith the soul, I have been in the hand of such a duty, such a course of obedience, and have thought sure now I shall be well, and have comfort, now I do this duty, set upon such a holy course.  Well, saith the Spirit, if you will have me do anything, these must all be dis­missed in point of confidence.  Now, and not till now, is the soul a subject fit to receive the Spirit’s comforts.  And there­fore, friends, as you love your inward peace, beware what vessel you draw your comfort from.  Grace is finite, and so cannot afford much. It is leaking, and so cannot hold long; thou drinkest in a riven dish, that hast thy comfort from thy grace. It is mixed, and so weak; and weak grace cannot give strong consola­tion—and such thou needest, especially in strong conflicts.  Nay, lastly, thy comfort which thou drawest from it, is stolen—thou dost not come honestly by it; and stolen comforts will not thrive with thee.  O, what folly is it for the child to play the thief, for that which he may have freely and more fully from his father, who gives and reproacheth not!  That comfort which thou wouldst filch out of thy own righteous­ness and duties, behold it is laid up for thee in Christ, from whose fulness thou mayest carry as much as thy faith can hold, and [there is] none to check thee, yea, the more thou improvest Christ for thy comfort, the more heartily welcome. We are bid to open our mouth wide, and he will fill it.

Use or Application of the Pride of Grace

           

Use. Be exhorted above all to watch against this play of Satan, beware thou restest not in thy own righteousness.  Thou standest under a tottering wall; the very cracks thou seest in thy graces and duties, when best, bid thee stand off, except thou wouldst have them fall on thy head.  The greatest step to heaven, is out of our own doors, over our own thresh­old.  It hath cost many a man his life when his house on fire—a grippleness to save some of the stuff —which, venturing among the flames to preserve, they have perished themselves.  More have lost their souls by thinking to carry some of their own stuff with them to heaven—such a good work or duty —while [until] they, like lingering Lot, have been loath to leave in point of confidence—have themselves perished.  O sirs, come out, come out, leave what is your own in the fire.  Fly to Christ naked; he hath gold—not like thine, which will consume and be found drossy in the fire, but such as hath in the fiery trial passed in God’s righteous judg­ment for pure and full weight.  You cannot be found in two places at once. 

Choose whether you will be found in your own righteousness or in Christ’s. Those who have had more to show than thyself, have thrown away all, and gone a begging to Christ.  Read Paul's inventory, Php. 3—what he had, what he did —yet all dross and loss.  Give him Christ, and take the rest who will.  So Job, as holy a man as trod on earth—God himself being witness—yet saith, ‘Though I were perfect, yet would I not know my soul: I would despise my life,’ Job 9:21.  He had acknowledged his imperfection before, now he makes a supposition—indeed, quod non est supponendum, which ought not to be made—‘If I were perfect, yet would I not know my own soul.  I would not enter­tain any such thoughts as would puff me up into such confidence of my holiness, as to make it my plea with God.’  Like to our common phrase, we say, such a one hath excellent parts, but he knows it, that is, he is proud of it.  Take heed of knowing thy own grace in this sense; thou canst not give a greater wound both to thy grace and comfort, than by thus priding thyself in it.

Pride of Grace Is To Trust In The WORTH of Our Grace 3/3

2. When the soul hath shot the great gulf, and got into a state of peace and life by closing with Christ, yet this mannerly pride Satan makes use of in the Christian’s daily course of duty and obedience, to disturb him and hinder his peace and comfort.  O how uncheerfully, yea, joylessly do many precious souls pass their days!  If you inquire what is the cause, you shall find [that] all their joy runs out at their crannies of their imperfect duties and weak graces.  They cannot pray as they would, and walk as they desire, with evenness and constancy; they see how far short they fall of the holy rule in the Word, and the pattern which others more eminent in grace do set before them; and this, though it doth not make them throw the promises away, and quite renounce all hope in Christ, yet it begets many sad fears and suspicions, yea, makes them sit at the feast Christ hath provided, and not know whether they may eat or not.  In a word, as it robs them of their joy, so [it robs] Christ of that glory he should receive from their rejoicing in him.  I do not say, Christian, thou oughtest not to mourn for those defects thou findest in thy graces and duties, nay, thou couldst not ap­prove thyself to be sincere if thou didst not.  A gracious heart—seeing how far short his renewed state, for the present, falls of man's primitive holiness by creation—cannot but weep and mourn—as the Jews [did] to behold the second temple; yet, Chris­tian, even while the tears are in thy eyes for thy imperfect graces—for a soul riseth with his grave-clothes on—thou shouldst rejoice, yea, triumph over all these thy defects by faith in Christ, in whom thou art complete, Col. 2:10, while imperfect in thyself.  Christ’s presence in the second temple—which the first had not—made it, though comparatively mean, more glorious than the first, Hag. 2:9.  How much more doth his presence in this spiritual temple of a gracious heart, imputing his righteousness to cover all uncomeliness, make the soul glorious above man at first?  This is a garment for which—as Christ saith of the lily—we neither spin nor toil; yet Adam in all his created royalty was not so clad, as the weakest be­liever is with this on his soul.  Now, Christian, con­sider well what thou doest, while thou sittest lan­guishing under the sense of thy own weaknesses, and refusest to rejoice in Christ, and live comfortably on the sweet privileges thou art interested in by thy mar­riage to him.  Dost thou not bewray some of this spir­itual pride working in thee?  O, if thou couldst pray without wandering, walk without limping, believe without wavering, then thou couldst rejoice and walk cheerfully.  It seems, soul, thou stayest to bring the ground of thy comfort with thee, and not to receive it purely from Christ.  O how much better were it if thou wouldst say with David, ‘Although my house’ —my heart—‘be not so with God, yet he hath made with me an everlasting covenant ordered in all things and sure; and this is all my desire, all my confidence. Christ I oppose to all my sins, Christ to all my wants; he is my all in all, and all above all.’  Indeed, all those complaints of our wants and weaknesses, so far as they withdraw our hearts from relying cheerfully on Christ, they are but the language of pride hankering after the covenant of works.  O it is hard to forget our mother-tongue, which is so natural to us; labour therefore to be sensible of it, [of] how grievous it is to the Spirit of Christ.  What would a husband say, if his wife, instead of expressing her love to him, and delight in him, should day and night do nothing but weep and cry to think of her former husband that is dead?  The law, as a covenant, and Christ, are com­pared to two husbands: ‘Ye are become dead to the law by the body of Christ, that ye should be married to another, even to him who is raised from the dead,’ Rom. 7:4.  Now thy sorrow for the defect of thy own righteousness, when it hinders thy rejoicing in Christ, is but a whining after thy other husband, and this Christ cannot take but unkindly—that thou art not well pleased to lie in the bosom of Christ, and have thy happiness from him as with your old husband the law.

           Second. [There is] a self-applauding pride; when the heart is secretly lift up, so as to promise itself ac­ceptation at God's hands, for any duty or act of obed­ience it performs, and doth not, when most assisted, go out of his own actings, to lay the weight of his ex­pectation entirely upon Christ.  Every such glance of the soul’s eye is adulterous, yea, idolatrous.  If thy heart, Christian, at any time be secretly enticed—as Job saith of another kind of idolatry—or thy mouth doth kiss thy hand, that is, dote so far on thy own duties and righteousness, as to give them this inward worship of thy confidence and trust, this is a great iniquity indeed; for in this thou deniest the God that is above, who hath determined thy faith to another object.  Thou comest to open heaven’s gate with the old key, when God hath set on a new lock. Dost thou not acknowledge that thy first entrance into thy justified state was of pure mercy? thou wert ‘justified freely by his grace, through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus,’ Rom. 3:24.  And whom art thou beholden to, now thou art reconciled, for thy further accep­tance or duty or holy action? to thy duty, thy obedi­ence, thyself, or Christ?  The same apostle will tell you, ‘By whom also we have access by faith into this grace wherein we stand,’ Rom. 5:2.  If Christ should not lead thee in and all thou doest, thou art sure to find the door shut upon thee.  There is no more place for desert now thou art gracious, than when thou wert graceless.  ‘The righteousness of God is revealed from faith to faith,’ for ‘the just shall live by faith,’ Rom. 1:17.  We are not only made alive by Christ, but we live by Christ; faith sucks in continual pardoning, as­sisting, comforting mercy from him, as the lungs suck in the air.  Heaven’s way is paved with grace and mercy to the end.

Pride of Grace Is To Trust In The Worth of Our Grace 2/3

Pride of Grace Is To Trust In The Worth of Our Grace          

 Second. The second way a Christian may be proud of his grace, is by trusting on the worth of his grace—resting on it for his acceptance with God.  The Scripture calls inherent grace ‘our own righteousness’ —though God indeed be the efficient of it—and opposeth it to the righteousness of Christ, which alone is called ‘the righteousness of God,’ Rom. 10:1-4. Now, to rest on any grace inherent, is to exalt our own righteousness above the righteousness of God; and what pride will this amount to?  If this were so, then a saint when he comes to heaven might say, ‘This is heaven which I have built—my grace hath purchased;’ and thus the God of heaven should be­come tenant to his creature in heaven.  No, God hath cast the order of our salvation into another method —of grace, but not of grace in us, but grace to us. In­herent grace hath its place and office to accompany salvation, Heb. 6:9, but not [to] procure it.  This is Christ’s work, not grace’s.  When Israel waited on the Lord at Mount Sinai they had their bounds.  Not a man must come up besides Moses to treat with God; no, not touch the mount, lest they die.  Thus all the graces of the Spirit wait on God, but none come up to challenge any acceptance of God besides faith, which is a grace that presents the soul not in its own gar­ments.  But you will say, ‘What needs all this? where is the man that trusts in his grace?’  Alas, where is the Christian that doth fully stand clear, and freely come off his own righteousness?   He is a rare pilot, indeed, that can steer his faith in so direct a course, as not now and then knock upon this duty, and run on ground upon that grace.  Abraham went in to Hagar, and the children of Abraham’s faith are not perfectly dead to the law, and may be found sometimes in Hagar’s arms.  Witness the flux and reflux of our faith, according to the various aspect of our obedi­ence.  When this seems full, then our faith is at a spring-tide, and covers all the mountains of our fears; but let it seem to wane in any service or duty, then the Jordan of our faith flies back, and leaves the soul naked.  The devil’s spite is at Christ, and therefore, since he could not hinder his landing—which he en­deavoured all he could—nor work his will on his per­son when he was come, he goes now, in a more re­fined way, to darken the glory of his sufferings, and the sufficiency of his righteousness, by blending ours with his.  This doctrine of justification by faith hath had more works and batteries made against it, than any other in the Scripture.  Indeed many other errors were but his sly approaches to get nearer to under­mine this.  And lastly, when he cannot hide this truth —which now shines in the church like the sun in its strength—then he labours to hinder the practical improvement of it, that we (if he can help it) shall not live up to our own principles—making us, at the same time that, in our judgment, we profess acceptance only through Christ, in our practice confute ourselves.

           Now there is a double pride in the soul he makes use of for this end—the one I may call a man­nerly pride, the other a self-applauding pride.

           First. [There is] a mannerly pride, which comes forth in the habit and guise of humility, and that dis­covers itself, either at the soul’s first coming to Christ, and keeps him from closing with the promise; or afterward in the daily course of a Christian’s walking with God, which keeps him from comfortable living on Christ.

When a poor soul is staved off the promise by the sense of his own unworthiness and great unrigh­teousness.  Tell him of a pardon, alas! he is so wrap­ped up with the thoughts of his own vileness, that you cannot fasten it upon him.  What, will God ever take such a toad as he is into his bosom, discount so many great abominations at once, and receive him into his favour, that hath been so long in rebellious arms against him!  He cannot believe it; no, though he hears what Christ hath done and suffered for sin, he refuseth to be comforted.  Little doth the soul think what a bitter root such thoughts spring from. Thou thinkest thou doest well thus to declaim against thyself, and aggravate thy sins.  Indeed, thou canst not paint them black enough, or entertain too low and base thoughts of thyself for them; but what wrong hath God and Christ done thee, that thou shouldst so unworthily reflect upon the mercy of the one, and merit of the other?  Mayest thou not do this, and be tender of the good name of God also?  Is there no way to show the sense of thy sin, except thou asperse thy Saviour?  Canst thou not charge thyself, but thou must condemn God, and put Christ and his blood to shame before Satan, who triumphs more in this than all thy other sins?  In a word, though thou, like a wretch, hast undone thyself, and damned thy soul by thy sins, yet art thou not willing God should have the glory of pardoning them, and Christ the honour of procuring the same? or art thou like him in the gospel, who could not dig, and to beg was ashamed? Luke 16:3.  Thou canst not earn heaven by thy own righteousness; and is thy spirit so stout that thou wilt not beg it for Christ’s sake? yea, take it at God’s hands, who, in the gospel, comes a begging to thee, and beseecheth thee to be reconciled to him?  Ah, soul! who would ever have thought there could have lain such pride under such a modest veil? and yet none like it.  It is horrible pride for a beggar to starve rather than take an alms at a rich man’s hands—[for] a malefactor rather to choose his halter than a pardon from his gracious prince’s hand; but here is one in­finitely surpassing both—a soul pining and perishing in sin, and yet rejecting the mercy of God, and the helping hand of Christ to save him!  Though Abigail did not think herself worthy to be David’s wife, yet she thought David was worthy of her, and therefore she humbly accepted his offer, and makes haste to go with the messengers.  That is the sweet frame of heart indeed—to lie low in the sense of your own vileness, yet to believe; to renounce all conceit of worthiness in ourselves, yet not therefore to renounce all hope of mercy, but the more speedily to make haste to Christ that woos us.  All the pride and unmannerliness lies in making Christ stay for us, who bids his messengers invite poor sinners to come and tell them ‘all things are ready.’  But, may be thou wilt say still, it is not pride that keeps thee off, but thou canst not believe that ever God will entertain such as thou art. Truly thou mendest the matter but little with this.  Either thou keepest some lust in thy heart, which thou wilt not part with, to obtain the benefit of the promise, and then thou art a notorious hypocrite, who under such an outcry for thy sins, canst drive a secret trade with hell at the same time; or if not so, thou dost discover the more pride in that thou darest stand out, when thou hast nothing to oppose against the many plain and clear promises of the gospel but thy per­emptory unbelief.  God bids the wicked forsake his ways, and turn to him, and he will abundantly pardon him; but thou sayest thou canst not believe this for thy own self.  Now who speaks the truth?  One of you two must be the liar; either thou must take it with shame to thyself, for what thou hast said against God and his promise—and that is thy best course; or thou must proudly, yea, blasphemously cast it upon God, as every unbeliever doth, I John 5:10.  Nay, thou makest him foresworn, for God—to give poor sinners the greater security in flying for refuge to Christ, who is that ‘hope set before them,’ Heb. 6:17,18—hath sworn they should have strong consolation.  ‘O happy we, for whose sake God puts himself under an oath: but O miserable we, who will not believe God, no, not when he swears!