How sincerity covers the saint’s uncomeliness 2/2

 But as God hath strange punishments for the wicked, so he hath strange expressions of love and mercy for sincere souls.  He loves to outdo their highest expectations, kiss, robe, feast, all in one day, and that the first day of his return, when the memory of his outrageous wickednesses were fresh, and the stinking scent of the swill and swine from which he was but newly come hardly gone!  What a great favourite is sincerity with the God of heaven!  (2.) Again, God’s mercy is larger to his children, than their charity is towards one another.  Those whom we are ready to unsaint for their failings that appear in their lives, God owns for his perfect ones, because of their sincerity.  We find Asa’s failings expressed, and his perfection vouched by God together, as I may say, in a breath, II Chr. 15:17.  It was well that God cleared that good man, for had but the naked story of his life, as it stands in the Scripture, been recorded, without any express testi­mony, of God’s approving him, his godliness would have hazarded a coming under dispute in the opinion of good men; yea, many more with him—concerning whom we are now put out of doubt, because we find them canonized for saints by God himself—would have been cast, if a jury of men, and those holy men too, had gone upon them.  Elijah himself, because he saw none have such zeal for God and his worship, as to wear their colours openly in a free profession, and hang out a flag of defiance against the idolatry of the times, by a stout opposing it as he did—which might be their sin—makes a sad moan to God, as if the apostasy had been so general, that the whole species of the godly had been preserved in his single person.  But God brings the holy man better news, ‘I have left seven thousand in Israel, all the knees which have not bowed down to Baal, and every mouth which hath not kissed him,’ I Kings 19:18.  As if God had said, ‘Com­fort thyself, Elijah.  Though my number be not great, yet neither is there such a dearth of saints as thou fearest in this ungodly age.  It is true their faith is weak, they dare not justle with the sins of the age as thou dost, for which thou shalt not lose thy reward; yet those night-disciples, that for fear carry their light in a dark lantern—having some sincerity, which keeps them from polluting themselves with these idolatries —must not, shall not be disowned by me.’  Yea, God who bids us be most tender of his lambs, is much more tender of them himself.  Observable is that place, I John 2:12-14.  There are three ranks of saints, ‘fathers,’ ‘young men,’ ‘little children.’ and the Spirit of God chiefly shows his tender care of them; as by mentioning them first, ver. 12, so by leaving the sweet promise of pardoning mercy in their lap and bosom, rather than in either of the other.  ‘I write unto you, little children, for your sins are forgiven you for my name’s sake.’  But are not the fathers’ sins, and young men’s also forgiven?  Yes, who doubts it?  But he doth not so particularly apply it to them, as to these; because these, from the sense of their own failings —out of which the other were more grown—were more prone to dispute against this promise in their own bosoms.  Yea, he doth not only in plain terms tell them their sins are forgiven, but meets with the secret objection which comes forth from trembling hearts in opposition to this good news, taken from their own vileness and unworthiness, and stoops its mouth with this, “forgiven for my name’s sake’—a greater name than the name of their biggest sin, which discourageth them from believing.

3. Sincerity keeps up the soul’s credit at the throne of grace, so that no sinful infirmity can hinder its welcome with God.  It is the regarding of iniquity in the heart, not the having of it, [that] stops God’s ear from hearing our prayer.  This is a temptation not a few have found some work to get over—whether such as they who see so many sinful failings in them­selves, may take the boldness to pray, or, without pre­suming to expect audience, when they have prayed; and it sometimes prevails so far, that because they cannot pray as they would, therefore they forbear what they should—much like some poor people that keep from the congregation because they have not such clothes to come in as they desire.  To meet with such as are turning away from duty upon this fear, the promises—which are our only ground for prayer, and chief plea in prayer—are accommodated, and fitted to the lowest degree of grace; so that, as a picture well drawn faceth all in the room alike that look on it, so the promises of the gospel-covenant smile upon all that sincerely look to God in Christ.  It is not said, ‘If you have faith like a cedar,’ but ‘if you have faith as a grain of mustard-seed, ye shall say unto this moun­tain, Remove hence to yonder place, and it shall re­move,’ Matt. 17:20.  Neither is justifying faith beneath miraculous faith in its own sphere of activity.  The least faith on Christ, if sincere, as truly removes the mountainous guilt of sin from the soul, as the strong­est.  Hence all the saints are said to have ‘like precious faith,’ II Peter 1:1.  Sarah’s faith, which in Genesis we can hardly see—as the story presents her —wherein it appeared, obtains an honourable mention, Heb. 11:11, where God owns her for a be­liever as well as Abraham with his stronger faith.  What love is it the promise entails the favours of God upon?  Is it not, “grace be with them that love our Lord Jesus’ {not} with a seraphim’s love, but with a sincerelove, Eph 6:24.  It is not ‘Blessed they who are holy to such a measure;’—this would have fitted but some saints.  The greatest part would have gone away and said, ‘There is nothing for me, I am not so holy.’ But that no saint might lose his portion, it is, ‘Blessed are they which hunger and thirst after righteousness;’ and this takes in all the children of God, even to the least babe that is newly born this day to Christ.  The new convert hungers after holiness and that sincerely.  And wherefore all this care so to lay the promises, but to show that when we go to make use of any promise at the throne of grace, we should not question our welcome, for any of our infirmities, if so be, this stamp of sincerity is upon our hearts?  Indeed, if sin­cerity did not thus much for the saint, there could not be a prayer accepted of God, at the hands of any saint that ever was or shall be on earth to the end of the world, because there never was nor shall be such a saint dwelling in flesh here below, in whom eminent failings may not be found.  The apostle would have us know that Elijah, who did as great wonders in heaven and earth too by prayer, as who greatest? yet this man —God could soon have picked a hole in his coat.  Indeed, lest we attribute the prevalency of his prayers to the dignity of his person, and some eminency which he had by himself in grace above others, the Spirit of God tells us, he was of the same make with his poor brethren.  ‘Elias was a man subject to like passions as we are, and he prayed,’ &c., James 5:17, 18. A weak hand with a sincere heart is able to turn the key in prayer.

How sincerity covers the saint’s uncomeliness 1/2

           Third Inquiry. How doth sincerity cover the saint’s sinful uncomeliness?  I shall answer to this —First. Negatively, and show how it doth not. Second. Affirmatively—how it doth.

           First. Negatively—how sincerity doth not cover them, and that in several particulars.

1. Sincerity doth not so cover the saint’s failings, as to take away their sinful nature.  Wandering thoughts are sin in a saint, as well as in another.  A weed will be a weed wherever it grows, though in a garden among choicest flowers.  They mistake then, who, because the saint’s sins are covered, deny them to be sins.
2. It doth not cover them so, as to give us the least ground to think that God doth allow the Chris­tian to commit the least sin more than others.  In­deed, it is inconsistent with God’s holiness to give, and with a saint’s sincerity to pretend such a dispen­sation to be given them.  A father may, out of his love and indulgence and love to his child, pass by a failing in his waiting on him, as if he spills the wine, or breaks the glass he is bringing to him, but sure he will not allow him to throw it down carelessly or willingly. Though a man may be easily entreated to forgive his friend, that wounded him unawares, when he meant him no hurt, yet he will not beforehand give him leave to do it.
3. It doth not cover them so, as that God should not see them, which is not only derogatory to his omniscience, but to his mercy also, for he cannot par­don what he doth not first see to be sin.  God doth not only see the sins of his children, but their failings are more distasteful to him than others’, because the persons in which they are found are so dear, and stand so near to him.  A dunghill in a prince’s cham­ber would be more offensive to him, than one far off from his court.  The Christian’s bosom is God’s court, throne, temple; there he hath taken up his rest forever.  Sin there must needs be very unsavoury to his nostrils.
4. It doth not so cover them, as that the saints need not confess them—be humbled under them, or sue out a pardon for them.  A penny is as due debt as a pound, and therefore to be acknowledged.  Indeed, that which is a sin of infirmity in the committing, be­comes a sin of presumption by hiding of it, and hard­ening in it.  Job held fast his integrity throughout his sad conflict, yet those failings which escaped him in the paroxysm of his afflictions brought him upon his knees: ‘I abhor myself,’ saith he, ‘and repent in dust and ashes,’ Job 42:6.
5. It doth not so cover them, as if our sincerity did the least merit and deserve that God should for it cover our other failings and infirmities.  Were there such a thing as obedience absolutely complete, it could not merit pardon for past sins; much less can an imperfect obedience, as sincerity is in a strict sense, deserve it for present failings.  Obedience le­gally perfect is no more than, as creatures, we owe to the law of God; and how could that pay the debt of sin, which of itself was due debt, before any sin was committed?  Much less can evangelical obedience —which is sincerity—do it; that falls short by far of that obedience we do owe.  If he that owes twenty pounds merits nothing when he pays the whole sum, then surely he doth not, that of the twenty pounds he owes pays but twenty pence.  Indeed, creditors may take what they please, and if they will say half satisfies them, it is discharge enough to the debtor.  But where did ever God say he would thus compound with his creature?  God stands as strictly upon it in the gospel-covenant to have the whole debt paid, as he did in the first of works.  There was required a full righteousness in keeping, or a full curse for breaking of the law.  So there is in the evangelical; only here the wards of the lock are changed.  God required this at the creature’s hand in the first covenant to be personally performed or endured; but in the gospel-covenant he is content to take both at the hands of Christ our surety, and impute these to the sincere soul that unfeignedly believes on him, and gives up himself to him.

           Second. Positively—how sincerity doth cover the saint’s uncomelinesses.

1. Sincerity is that property to which pardoning mercy is annexed.  True, indeed, it is Christ that cov­ers all our sins and failings, but it is only the sincere soul over which he will cast his skirt.  ‘Blessed is he...whose sin is covered; blessed is the man unto whom the Lord imputeth not iniquity,’ Ps. 32:2.  None will doubt this; but which is the man? the next words tell us his name—‘and in whose spirit there is no guile.’  Christ’s righteousness is the garment that cov­ers the nakedness and shame of our unrighteousness, faith the grace that puts this garment on.  But what faith? none but the ‘faith unfeigned,’ as Paul calls it, II Tim. 1:5.  ‘Here is water,’ saith the eunuch, ‘what doth hinder me to be baptized?’ Acts 8:36.  Now mark Philip’s answer, ver. 37, ‘If thou believest with all thine heart, thou mayest;’ as if he had said, Nothing but a hypocritical heart can hinder thee.  It is the false heart only that finds the door of mercy shut.  He that promiseth to cover the sincere soul’s failings, threat­ens to uncover the hypocrite’s impiety.  ‘He that per­verteth his ways shall be known,’ that is, to his shame, Prov. 10:9.
2. Where sincerity is, God approves of that soul, as a holy righteous person, notwithstanding that mix­ture of sin which is found in him.  As God doth not like the saint’s sin, for his sincerity, so he doth not unsaint him for that.  God will set his hand to Lot’s testimonial that he is a righteous man.  Though many sins are recorded in the Scripture which he fell into —and foul ones too—yet Job is regarded perfect, because the frame of his heart was sincere, the tenure of his life holy; and he was rather surprised by his sins as temptations, than they entertained by him upon choice.  Though sincerity doth not blind God’s eye that he should no see the saint’s sin, yet it makes him see it with a pitiful eye, and not a wrathful; as a hus­band knowing his wife faithful to him in the main, pities her in other weaknesses, and for all them ac­counts her a good wife.  ‘In all this,’ saith God, ‘Job sinned not.’  And at the very close of his combat, God brings him out of the field with his honourable testi­mony to his friends that had taken so much pains to bring his godliness in question; that his servant Job had ‘spoken right of him.’  Truly God said more of Job than he durst of himself.  He freely confesseth his unadvised froward speeches, and cries out, ‘I abhor myself, and repent in dust and ashes.’  God saw Job’s sins attended with sincerity, and therefore judged him perfect and righteous.  Job saw his sincerity dashed with many sad failings, and this made him, in the close of all, rather confess his sins with shame, than glory in his grace.

           God’s mercy is larger to his children, than their charity is many times to themselves and their breth­ren.  (1.) To themselves.  Do you think the prodigal —the emblem of a convert—durst have asked the robe, or desired his father to at such cost for his en­tertainment, as his father freely bestowed on him? No sure, a room in the kitchen, we see, was as high as he durst ask.  To be among the meanest servants of the house—poor soul! he could not conceive he should have such a meeting with his father at first sight.  A robe! he might rather look for a rope, at least a rod.  A feast at his father’s table!  O, unlooked for wel­come!  I doubt not but if any had met him on his way, and told him that his father was resolved as soon as he came home, not to let him see his face, but presently pack him to bridewell, there to whipped and fed with bread and water for many months, and then perhaps he would at last look on him and take him home—I doubt not but, in his starving condition, this would have been good news to him.