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.

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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!