Author: Thomas Erskine

  • An Excerpt from The Spiritual Order and Other Papers

    The following excerpt, as Don Horrocks notes in his book Laws of the Spiritual Order, carried with it far-reaching implications for traditional Calvinist soteriology, involving the nature of atonement, imputation, original sin, the fall, and the supposed depravity of humanity. A new, fully annotated edition of Erskine’s The Spiritual Order and Other Papers is nearing completion. Stay tuned for updates.

    “No suffering of a penalty due to sin, either by ourselves or by another in our place, can put sin away, for sin is a spiritual thing and can only be put away by a return to righteousness and as sin has also a strictly individual character, it is only by becoming righteous ourselves and not by another being so in our stead that sin in us can be truly put away. Salvation in its highest sense must be a personal and individual thing, and therefore, in order to attain it, each man must himself participate in the filial trust of Christ which is righteousness.

    But although Christ’s work is not substitutional or, in the ordinary sense of the word, vicarious,1 still it is work done for man in a sense applicable to the work of no other human being. He does nothing instead of us—nothing, that is, to save us from doing it. He does things for us that we also may in him have power to do them. He did not die to save us from dying but that we might in the power of an endless life die with him, that we might by partaking in his death—by surrendering our life as he did into the hand of the Father in loving confidence—be also partakers of his resurrection. When he assumed our nature under all its evil conditions, he lived by faith. He accepted sorrow and death in faith. It was the cup his Father had given him to drink, and in doing so, he overcame death and him who had the power of death, thus by his example giving guidance and encouragement to every child of man. And further, he did this not as an individual but as the Head of the race thereby lifting all humanity along with himself up from the bondage of corruption into the glorious liberty of the children of God. None certainly can enter into his victory except by partaking in his trust. But in that general elevation of the nature, there must be contained real help for every man in his special work as well as a pledge that He who has raised Jesus to His own right hand will not cease His labor of love till He has raised there also the last and least of his members. In the victory of our Head, He has given us an all-sufficient foundation for the most absolute trust as well as a manifestation of the certain effects resulting from its exercise. None but a son could have made this revelation, and none but those who are created in the Son could be capable of apprehending or receiving it. He came to draw and guide the hearts of the children back to the Father, and he did so by his own life of filial trust.”

    1. Although Erskine rejects the way the words “substitutional” and “vicarious” were being used in his day, his understanding of Christ’s role as humanity’s Head and representative before the Father is remarkably similar to what T. F. Torrance termed “the vicarious humanity of Christ”—the doctrine that Jesus lived, trusted, obeyed, died, and rose again not just for us but as us, acting as the representative substitute for all humanity. He assumed our fallen human nature to heal, sanctify, and reconcile it to God from within, substituting his perfect faith and obedience for our own.  ↩︎
  • Preface to 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘋𝘰𝘤𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘌𝘭𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯

    Abstract:

    In this preface, Thomas Erskine explains his purpose and method in writing The Doctrine of Election, acknowledging its imperfections while arguing that true understanding of biblical doctrines—especially Election—must harmonize Scripture with the human conscience rather than rest on blind submission to authority. The author maintains that God’s revelation appeals to an inner moral sense capable of discerning righteousness, and that faith involves perceiving and embracing truth as righteous, not merely accepting it as commanded. Throughout, he emphasizes that doctrines such as Election, Atonement, and justification by faith must be understood both objectively in Christ and subjectively in personal moral experience, insisting that Scripture rightly instructs only when it awakens, educates, and confirms the conscience in the love of righteousness.

    Preface

    I did not intend to put a Preface to this Work, but, now that it is finished, I find so many things in it which stand in need of the reader’s indulgence that I think it well, at the entrance, to warn him of them and to bespeak his patience.

    The first half of the book was written under the disadvantage of frequent interruptions, which I am sensible have very often broken the thread of thought and interest, and with regard to the entire work, it has happened, chiefly I confess, from my own fault that every sheet was printed as soon as it was written so that I never saw it nor could judge of it as a whole until the last sheet came from the press. From these causes have proceeded defects in the arrangement and frequent repetitions, besides other faults which are now beyond the reach of correction and which I feel must hang a drag on many parts of the book.

    Nevertheless, I am not without hope that the reader who is interested in the subject will find in the book that which will repay him for the trouble of going through it. Not that he will meet with any deep thinking in it or any striking speculations, for I have throughout kept the place of a commentator or expositor confining myself entirely within the range of the written word and human consciousness and scarcely attempting to touch the meta physical questions relating to Free Will and Necessity, but I think he will find in it a satisfactory view of what is meant by Election in the Bible and satisfactory proof that the passages in the Bible on which the commonly received doctrine of that name rest do indeed teach something very different. He will also find that though I have treated the subject simply as a Scriptural one, yet in doing so, I have never forgotten that the Scriptures were given, not to supersede or stand in place of the rational conscience, but to awaken and enlighten it, and consequently that no conviction as to their meaning ought to be considered as rightly arrived at unless confirmed and sealed by the consent of the conscience, that is, unless such conviction be of the nature of a perception of truth and not a mere submission to authority and that therefore I have submission to authority and that therefore I have always felt it incumbent on me to explain the views which I bring from Scripture in the light of the rational conscience, that is, to show the relation which they bear to it.

    I have entered largely into the subject of Conscience and the adaptation of the Scriptures to it and into the consideration of those general and elementary views of the condition of man as a moral and responsible being which the Scriptures either expressly set forth or manifestly assume to be true and which do in fact constitute the basis of all the doctrines which they teach, and I have endeavored to show that it is only when we take our stand upon these views as upon a ’vantage ground that we can truly discern the meaning of many parts of Christian doctrine.

    I hope that my reader will see that in thus requiring that what we learn from the Bible should harmonize with the light in our consciences I am not detracting from the true authority of the inspired Book but only putting it in its true place. What that place is is distinctly marked in 2 Timothy 3:16, “All Scripture which is given by inspiration of God, is also profitable, for doctrine, for reproof, for correction, for instruction in righteousness, that the man of God may be perfect, thoroughly furnished unto all good works.” Now it is manifest that, unless in my own conscience I am perceiving the righteousness of the will of God revealed in any doctrine, I cannot be instructed in righteousness by it. For instruction in righteousness must mean here the instruction received in the conscience, that is, the awakening and nourishing within me of the perception and love of righteousness which cannot take place when I am receiving a doctrine in the way of submission to authority without really perceiving the righteousness that is in it.

    And besides, I cannot feel satisfied that I have rightly understood what doctrine the inspired writer meant to teach whilst I do not myself perceive righteousness in it—for I cannot believe that anything is really of God but what is righteous—and therefore, whilst I do not see the righteousness of the doctrine, I cannot be sure that I am not putting a wrong interpretation on the inspired text, and at all events, I am not really believing the truth of it—however fully I may be persuaded that there is a truth in it, though I do not see it, which ought to be believed. I am not instructed in righteousness by believing that there is a truth in a doctrine but by acknowledging and closing with the truth which I myself perceive in it.

    When a man has once become persuaded that the Bible is divinely inspired, he often seems to think that this persuasion lays him under an obligation no longer to try or judge of the contents of the Book by his conscience but to submit himself to all that he reads there and to receive it implicitly—and thus he learns to put away his conscience and to turn it from the use for which it was given and also to turn the Scriptures from the use for which they were given—and yet, notwithstanding all this, to have the semblance of obeying his conscience which commands him to honor God’s word. But whilst he is in this state, he is lying under a strange delusion for he is mistaking the conviction that he ought to be believing a thing for the actual believing of it. He is mistaking submission to the authority of God for the belief of the truth of God.

    The error here arises from an ignorance of God and of his purposes towards us. It arises from regarding God, not as a loving and righteous Father who desires for us that we should become partakers of His love and righteousness by appreciating the excellence of these qualities and loving them and receiving them into our hearts, but as a Sovereign who insists on our absolute submission to His behests, indifferent whether we see and sympathize with His love and righteousness in them or not.

    This is to merge the moral attributes of God in His natural attributes of power and sovereignty. It is to say of God that what He does is the rule of righteousness instead of saying that what He does is according to righteousness. And it has also a tendency to lead us on to say that He is more glorified by the manifestation of His power and sovereignty in making the creature what He will, whether good or bad, than by the manifestation of the influence of an apprehension of His love and righteousness on the heart of the creature, which He has made capable of discerning good from evil—in prevailing on it of its own free choice to abandon all other expectations of good and to take Him and His love and His righteousness for its whole desire, and its whole portion.

    But this is not the religion which Jesus Christ taught. He did not come preaching the sovereignty of God but preaching His righteousness and declaring Him to be the Father. And moreover, He did not come in His own name, that is, He did not come claiming submission from men on the ground of His own personal and official authority, but He came requiring them to receive His doctrine, on the ground of its intrinsic truth as discerned by their own consciences. He said, “If I speak the truth, why do ye not believe me?” (John 8:46), thus appealing to something of God within their own hearts which could distinguish truth from falsehood and which they were bound to consult in judging of the things which He said to them. And thus, it appears that the authority on which the gospel is to rest is the authority of truth recognized and felt in the conscience and not any outward authority however purporting to be of God and that those who do rest it on an outward authority are really subverting its principles by so doing.

    I do not mean that a man is to sit down to the Bible in the spirit of a judge rather than of a disciple, but I mean that the true discipleship consists, not in a blind submission to authority, but in the discernment and love of the truth, not in subjecting the conscience to a revelation which it does not understand, but in educating and feeding the conscience by the truth apprehended in the revelation.

    But if men were called on by Jesus to try what He himself personally taught them by a light within them—we are surely bound to try by the same light the things which have come down to us through the written word. And those who would teach the things which are contained in the written word ought to remember that their teaching is really of no use unless they make them clear to the consciences of the learners, that is, unless they show in the things taught a righteousness of God which the consciences of the learners can apprehend and approve.

    It must be evident to everyone that the sole ground on which men can be considered culpable in preferring wrong to right is the assumption that they have something within them by which they can distinguish right from wrong and discern the excellence of what is right and the evil of what is wrong. But we all naturally and necessarily make this assumption and consider those to be culpable who in any circumstances prefer wrong to right. Now truth in morals and in religion is only another name for what is right, and falsehood another name for what is wrong—and thus that inward witness which judges of right and wrong within us is the only real test by which we can judge of truth and falsehood in religion.

    That this inward witness is hardly perceptible in the case of some persons and that its judgment is limited to outward actions in the case of others is no objection to the statement here made. For the witness is as a seed sown in the heart of man, and if it is unused, it lies dormant. But still it remains true that it is only by the awakening and the strengthening of this witness that there is any real growth within us, either in morals or religion, and therefore the only real instruction in the Scriptures or the doctrines of religion is that which is addressed to this witness and which thus has a tendency to awaken and exercise it, for thus only is it possible that the Scriptures can be made “profitable for instruction in righteousness.”

    If therefore a teacher thinks that he is claiming honor for God’s authority when he refuses to listen to the objections which a learner makes to any view of a doctrine on the ground of conscience, and when he silences all such objections by a mere reference to the written word, he is deceiving himself—for that which is the true authority of God in relation to every man is the man’s own perception of righteousness—and the teacher is only then truly claiming honour for God when he brings the doctrine to meet that perception.

    I am not arguing for the right of private judgment—I am arguing for the right of conscience, that is, for the right which my conscience has over me. I am not arguing for my right to say to another man my judgment is as good as yours, but I am arguing that neither he nor I can have a right to think that we are honoring God by our faith whilst our conscience is not going along with the thing believed.

    When I meet with anything in the Bible to which my conscience does not consent, I feel persuaded that I don’t understand the meaning of it—for my confidence that it comes from God assures me that if I understood it aright, I should perceive its righteousness. Whilst I remain in this condition, however, I am conscious that I am not believing the thing, “for with the heart man believeth unto righteousness,” and I am certain that I cannot believe anything truly unto righteousness unless I perceive righteousness in it—I am therefore conscious that I am not believing in it and that I am only bowing to it. But I do not willingly rest in this condition. I examine the passages on which the doctrine in question rests—I consider whether the meaning which I have been attributing to them is the true meaning—I consult translations and commentaries, not with the view of taking any of them as a guide, but that I may see whether I can find in any of them an interpretation which will at the same time satisfy my conscience and agree with the language and harmonize with the tenor of the discourse. We ought to require the meeting of all these conditions in an interpretation before we allow ourselves to rest in it, and accordingly, when I have in this work preferred any interpretation of a passage which differs from that which is found in the common version, I have done so on the ground that these conditions meet in it and not in the other.

    It may seem to some that such a work as this which consists chiefly of interpretations of passages ought not to have been attempted by anyone who was not well versed in verbal criticism in general and more especially in that of the Scriptures. But besides that the labourers in that department have now brought the whole subject within the reach of very ordinary scholars, I believe that those who are best acquainted with the results of that kind of scholarship will agree with me in thinking that it has already done all or nearly all that it is likely to do and that another kind of instrument is needed in order to draw a true and useful advantage from that which it has established, which instrument seems to me to be no other than a zealous and yet patient demand for consistency and coherence in our interpretations—in respect both of conscience and of logic. Whether I have used this instrument or not, each reader must judge for himself. All that I ask of him on this point is that he will not judge hastily nor give a final judgment until he has finished the book and that he will allow his conscience as well as his reasoning to sit along with him in the judgment.

    There is another thing of which I ought here to say something to the reader. Everyone who has studied Christianity as a system not only of righteousness but of wisdom must have perceived that it has a double form throughout inasmuch as God has, in the first place, set forth to us the whole truth, objectively, in Christ and then He calls on us to experience it all, subjectively, in ourselves through the operation of the Spirit of Christ received into our hearts by faith. I am persuaded, also, that many must have felt that the Atonement and the Righteousness of faith are connected in this way—the Atonement being the objective view of the doctrine and the righteousness of faith the subjective—so that the Atonement when experienced by ourselves is the righteousness of faith, and the righteousness of faith when viewed out from ourselves in Christ is the Atonement. Thus to die with Christ or to be partakers of His death, or to have His blood cleansing us from all sin means the same thing as to be justified by faith, or to have the righteousness of faith—and thus also the blood of Christ when taken subjectively or experimentally means the shedding out of the life-blood of man’s will in the Spirit of Christ inasmuch as no one can know the blood of Christ purging his conscience in any other way than by personally shedding out the life-blood of his own will.

    From the habit of viewing these two doctrines as thus connected and also from a conviction of the exceeding importance of understanding that the objective view of the doctrine is quite useless when separated from the subjective, I have occasionally in speaking of them used language which I am aware may at first strike the reader as unusual but which I trust he will see the justness and reasonableness of as he advances. I do not mean to confound the two doctrines together but to connect them together as I do not mean to confound the root of a tree with a branch but only to mark their connection when I speak of them as having the same sap circulating through them both, for though I thus speak of them, I do not forget that the sap is originally concocted not by the branch but by the root and that the branch could have no sap at all unless it had a root by which the sap might be prepared and communicated to it.

    Now, God in our nature—that is, Christ—is the root of the new sap or eternal life in man without which no man could have been righteous and by the presence of which in our nature, every man may be righteous. This is the root which connects the whole tree of man with God, and heaven as the carnal Adam is the root which connects it with Satan and corruption—for the tree has two roots and two saps and the atonement is just that acting of Christ, the new root, that voluntary dying or shedding out by him of the old sap or corrupt will of man—through which he separated himself and all the branches that would adhere to him altogether and forever from the corruption and condemnation which belonged to and lay upon that old sap—that so they might be filled exclusively with the holy sap, the eternal life, and bear the eternal blessing which rests upon it. But the adherence which the branch gives to him, which is the righteousness of faith, is just a repetition of the same acting by which he, the root, separated himself acceptably to God—namely, a voluntary dying or shedding out of the old sap performed by the branch in the power of the new sap communicated to it from the root and without which it would be incapable of performing it.

    This view of these doctrines connects them distinctly with the conscience. We must acknowledge that that corrupt sap or life within us which seeks self-gratification instead of righteousness is indeed the source of all the evils of our condition and deserves the punishment of sorrow and death which God has laid upon it—and we must also acknowledge that the only way of escaping from the bondage of that corrupt life is by getting quit of it or by shedding it out, but this we could not do without another principle of life within us in the strength of which we might do it and yet survive. To bring this principle of life, the eternal life, into the whole race so as to be within the reach of every man was the work of the root, and He effected it by shedding out the life which belongs to the flesh and blood in which he along with the other children of the family partook and to receive this principle of life, thus brought within their reach so that it should become their own life is that cooperation which is required of all men and in which their trial consists and which they can only effect by consenting in like manner to the shedding out of the corrupt life of the flesh in the strength of the new principle.

    The root does important things for the tree, but in doing them, it is not a substitute for the tree—nor is its action intended to dispense with the cooperating action of the branches. It commences a process which they are to carry on in the power communicated to them through it. They could not have commenced the process, but the root by commencing it has put it in their power to carry it on. Our Great Root received the sap for us in saying, “Not my will, but thine be done,” that is, by dying to the will of the flesh and consenting to the punishment laid on the flesh—and we can receive it from him to be our life only by following out the same process. And thus, the history of Christ is not only the history of God’s love in calling us to be partakers of His nature and blessedness but is also a model of the way in which alone we can truly receive the unspeakable gift. Hence, I see the oneness of meaning in the three following passages: “If they accept of the punishment of their iniquity, then will I remember my covenant with their fathers” (Lev 26:41, 42). — “The blueness of a wound cleanseth away evil; so do stripes the inward parts of the belly” (Prov. 20:30). —And, “The blood of Jesus Christ, His Son, cleanseth us from all sin” (1 John 1:7). The meaning of them all is the same, but the two first passages refer simply and directly to the action of the branch whilst the third refers to the action of the root by which the branch has been made capable of performing its action. The love which gave the root and the spirit communicated through the root are profitable only when they are thus received and used by the branch.

    Christ did not suffer to save men from punishment but to save them from sin by enabling them and encouraging them to accept their medicinal punishment that blueness of a wound which cleanseth away evil. See to this effect 2 Corinthians 4:10–18.

    In looking over the book since it has been finished, I see that I have not always kept to the same meaning of the word conscience and that I have used it sometimes to signify the Spirit of God in man and sometimes to signify the man’s own apprehension of the mind of the Spirit in him, which is often a very different thing. But though this is a fault in point of accuracy, I do not think that it produces any confusion in the meaning as the context always shows which of these senses is intended. Lastly, I should here account for the Epistle to the Ephesians not having a more distinct place given to it amongst the passages commented on in this Work as connected with the doctrine of Election. The fact is that I had proposed to take it up after going through the Epistle to the Romans but finding that part of the work grow so much beyond what I had intended and anticipating the same result in treating the Epistle to the Ephesians, if I should undertake it, I determined to give it up altogether, rather than to do it in a slight way.

    T. E.

  • The Doctrine of Election, Part One

    “The election is on the righteous One and as a man becomes righteous through Christ the righteous head dwelling in him by faith, so also does he become elect.”

    Erskine scholar Don Horrocks, in his book Laws of the Spiritual Order: Innovation and Reconstruction in the Soteriology of Thomas Erskine of Linlathen, often highlights the remarkable ways Thomas Erskine, writing in the early 19th century, anticipated Karl Barth’s twentieth-century theology. Erskine’s The Doctrine of Election is a prime example.

    The Doctrine of Election &c.

    Object and Plan of the Work

    My object in this treatise is to set forth, as distinctly and simply as I can, the grounds on which I have come to the conclusion that the doctrine of God’s Election, as taught in the Bible, is altogether different from and opposed to that which has passed under the name of the Doctrine of Election and been received as such by a great part of the professing church through many ages. I know that this undertaking will appear to many nothing else than a foolish and presumptuous attempt to pry into the secret counsels of God and to bring down to the level of man’s understanding that which he has placed above it. But God knows that this is not true. He knows that I have undertaken the exposition of this subject only in as far as I see that it belongs not to the secret things from which man is shut out but to the revealed things which man is invited and required to know in order that he may do the will of God. And because I know that the minds of many, especially in this country of Scotland, are much prepossessed by the doctrine here condemned, I earnestly and solemnly as in the presence of God entreat the reader to give me his honest attention that he may be able to judge truly whether in treating the question I endeavor to make out a case by setting aside or passing over any part of Scripture or by putting forced interpretations on any expressions contrary to the tenor of the passages in which they occur or, on the contrary, whether I do not uniformly ground the argument on the general scope of Scripture and on the natural meaning and tenor of the passages generally cited in support of the received view of the doctrine giving its full weight to every expression as one who does not wish to escape from the will of God but to discover it.

    Election as Generally Held

    The doctrine of election generally held is that God, according to His own inscrutable purpose, has from all eternity chosen in Christ and predestinated unto salvation a certain number of individuals out of the fallen race of Adam and that, in pursuance of this purpose, as these individuals come into the world, He in due season visits them by a peculiar operation of His Spirit thereby justifying, and sanctifying, and saving them whilst He passes by the rest of the race unvisited by that peculiar operation of the Spirit and so abandoned to their sins and their punishment. It is also an essential part of the doctrine that the peculiar operation of the Spirit by which God draws the elect unto Himself is held to be alike irresistible and indispensable in the work of salvation so that those to whom it is applied cannot be lost and those to whom it is not applied cannot be saved whilst all the outward calls of the gospel and what are named common operations of the Spirit which are granted to the reprobate as well as to the elect are, when unaccompanied by that peculiar operation, ineffectual to salvation and do only aggravate the condemnation of the reprobate.

    Objections to View Generally Held

    I held this doctrine for many years modified however inconsistently by the belief of God’s love to all and of Christ having died for all—and yet, when I look back on the state of my mind during that period, I feel that it would be truer to say I submitted to it than that I believed it. I submitted to it because I did not see how the language of the 9th chapter of the Epistle to the Romans and of a few similar passages could bear any other interpretation, and yet, I could not help feeling that on account of what appeared to be the meaning of these few difficult passages, I was giving up the plain and obvious meaning of all the rest of the Bible, which seems continually in the most unequivocal language and in every page to say to every man, “See I have set before thee this day, life and good, death and evil, therefore choose life that thou mayest live.”1 I could not help feeling that if the above representation were true, then, that on which a real and righteous responsibility in man can alone be founded was awanting and the slothful servant had reason when in vindication of his unprofitableness, he said, “I knew thee, that Thou art an hard man, reaping where thou hast not sown, and gathering where thou hast not strawed.”2 Above all, I could not help feeling that if God were such as that doctrine described Him, then the Creator of every man was not the friend of every man nor the righteous object of confidence to every man, and that when Christ was preached to sinners, the whole truth of God was not preached to them for that there was something behind Christ in the mind of God giving Him to one and withholding Him from another so that the ministry of reconciliation was only an appendix to a deeper and more dominant ministry in which God appeared simply as a Sovereign without any moral attribute, and man was dealt with as a mere creature of necessity without any real responsibility.

    Reasons for Submission to it Answered

    I at that time used to answer and rebuke this doubt of my heart by the words, though I now see not by the meaning of Scripture, “Who art thou that repliest against God?”3 and by the consideration that the finite understanding of man was incapable of comprehending the infinite mind of God. But still I remained unsatisfied because I met with passages in the Bible in which God invites and calls upon men to judge of the equality and righteousness of his ways, placing himself as it were at the bar of their consciences and claiming from them a judgment testifying to his righteousness and clearing him of all inequality and that not on the ground that his righteousness is above their understanding—far less on the ground that in Scripture, he has a sovereign right to do as He pleases—but on the ground that his righteousness is such as men can judge of and because it is clear and plain to that principle of judgment within them by which they approve or condemn their own actings and the actings of their fellow-men.

    God’s Appeals in Scripture to the Consciences of Men

    The passages to this effect which struck me most forcibly were the 18th and 33rd chapters of Ezekiel and the 5th chapter of Isaiah. I shall transcribe the greatest part of the 18th of Ezekiel that I may bring the reader face to face with it. “The word of the Lord came unto me again, saying, What mean ye, that ye use this proverb concerning the land of Israel, saying, The fathers have eaten sour grapes, and the children’s teeth are set on edge? As I live, saith the Lord God, ye shall not have occasion any more to use this proverb in Israel. Behold, all souls are mine; as the soul of the father, so also the soul of the son is mine: the soul that sinneth, it shall die” “The son shall not bear the iniquity of the father, neither shall the father bear the iniquity of the son; the righteousness of the righteous shall be upon him, and the wickedness of the wicked shall be upon him. But if the wicked will turn from all his sins that he hath committed, and keep all my statutes, and do that which is lawful and right, he shall surely live, he shall not die. All his transgressions that he hath committed, they shall not be mentioned unto him: in his righteousness that he hath done he shall live. Have I any pleasure at all that the wicked should die? saith the Lord God; and not that he should return from his ways, and live? But when the righteous turneth away from his righteousness, and committeth iniquity, and doeth according to all the abominations that the wicked man doeth, shall he live? All his righteousness that he hath done shall not be mentioned: in his trespass that he hath trespassed, and in his sin that he hath sinned, in them shall he die. Yet ye say, the way of the Lord is not equal. Hear now, O house of Israel, Is not my way equal? are not your ways unequal? When a righteous man turneth away from his righteousness, and committeth iniquity, and dieth in them; for his iniquity that he hath done shall he die. Again, when the wicked man turneth away from his wickedness that he hath committed, and doeth that which is lawful and right, he shall save his soul alive. Because he considereth to be Judged of and turneth away from all his transgressions that he hath committed, he shall surely live, he shall not die. Yet saith the house of Israel, The way of the Lord is not equal. O house of Israel, are not my ways equal? are not your ways unequal? Therefore I will judge you, O house of Israel, every one according to his ways, saith the Lord God. Repent, and turn yourselves from all your transgressions; so iniquity shall not be your ruin. Cast away from you all your transgressions, whereby ye have transgressed; and make you a new heart and a new spirit: for why will ye die, O house of Israel? For I have no pleasure in the death of him that dieth, saith the Lord God: wherefore turn yourselves, and live ye”

    God’s Righteousness to be Judged of by the Consciences of Men

    It appeared to me impossible to read this passage without perceiving that the righteousness of God is assumed throughout to be a righteousness which man is capable of comprehending and appreciating—and that although His sovereignty is incontestable, He yet, in a manner, holds Himself accountable to the consciences of His intelligent creatures for the way in which He exercises it.

    It further appeared to me that this passage according to its obvious and natural signification contained not only a denial of the existence of an eternal purpose of God by which any of the race of man are passed by and left to their sins and their punishment but also the assertion of the existence of an opposite purpose in God towards them even that they should turn from their sins and be saved—and also, that it contained a denial that the difference between the righteous and the wicked arose from God’s applying any peculiar irresistible operation of the Spirit to the former and withholding it from the latter because such dealing on the part of God would destroy the very ground of the appeal so strongly urged through the whole chapter, in as much as the intelligible equality of His judgment on both classes depends entirely on the essential and true sufficiency of the spiritual provision made for both of them.

    It further appeared to me that if men as a race had through the fall of Adam lost any capacity of knowing and serving God which was not restored to them also as a race in the gift of Jesus Christ, then the proverb that “The fathers have eaten sour grapes, and the children’s teeth are set on edge,” would have been true, but God in asserting the equality of his ways denies the truth of this proverb in terms which mark that its truth would according to His judgment be incompatible with equality. I may here observe that this proverb is amongst us also and that its form now is, “Although man by the fall has lost the power to obey, God has not lost the right to demand obedience.” But, in any form such a proverb God disclaims as inconsistent with the equality of his ways.

    The passage in Isaiah is equally clear in all these points. “Now will I sing to my well beloved, a song of my beloved touching His vineyard. My beloved hath a vineyard in a very fruitful hill, and He fenced it, and gathered out the stones thereof, and planted it with the choicest vine, and built a tower in the midst of it, and also made a winepress there in, and He looked that it should bring forth grapes, and it brought forth wild grapes. And now, O inhabitants of Jerusalem, and men of Judah, judge I pray you between me and my vineyard. What could have been done more to my vineyard, that I have not done in it? Wherefore when I looked that it should bring forth grapes, brought it forth wild grapes?” (Isaiah 5:1–4).

    Here again it appeared to me that God’s righteousness is assumed to be such as can be judged of and appreciated by man, even in his unregenerate state, for the invitation to judge is here addressed to the men of Judah and inhabitants of Jerusalem, the very criminals on whom the sentence is pronounced. It is before them that God pleads his cause and what is the amount of His pleading? The sufficiency of the provision made for enabling them to meet His demand is that which He sets forth as the proof of His righteousness, both in making these demands and in punishing them for not meeting them. And this provision He lays before themselves that they may say whether they can find any defect or inadequacy in it. He thus evidently assumes that the righteousness of His requirement and judgment is a righteousness of which man can judge and ought to judge by the same rule as that which he applies to his own conduct and to that of his fellowmen. And He asserts that His righteousness, when tried by this rule, will be found conformable to it.

    There are many passages in the Bible, both in the Old and New Testaments, which are equally strong and pointed with those which I have noticed, against the generally received doctrine of election, but I shall not at present cite more as my reader may probably be in the condition in which I was myself when first these things were presented to me. I acknowledged the force of the passages—I acknowledged my inability to interpret them in consistency with the doctrine of election—I fully admitted the responsibility of man and the righteousness of God—but I could not allow any logical conclusions of my own understanding to interfere with my submission to the inspired word, and therefore, I still felt that whilst the 9th chapter of the Epistle to the Romans continued to be an undisputed part of Divine Revelation, it would be an act of ungodly presumption in me to reject a doctrine which appeared to be so manifestly contained in it.

    Reasons for still Adhering to the Common View

    I felt also that there was something in the doctrine to which my own heart bore witness as being true to experience as well as glorifying to God, namely that there was nothing good in man but what was of the direct acting of the Spirit of God, and therefore, I could not receive any argument against the doctrine which proceeded on the ground of an inherent self-quickening power in man.

    What I required, then, in order really to free my conscience from the power of this doctrine was to discover in the 9th chapter of the Epistle to the Romans and some other similar passages an unforced natural meaning different from that which hitherto they had borne to me and in that new meaning to find also what might correspond with my distinct experience of the action of the Spirit of God within me in opposition to the spirit of my own will.

    Light received from Jeremiah 18

    I continued then to read this dark chapter from time to time hoping always that it would please God to give me further light upon it, for I felt quite free to do this in humility because God had said, “Judge, I pray you, between me and my vineyard.”4 The first ray of light that visited me in this course was in reading the 18th chapter of Jeremiah to which the 21st verse of the 9th chapter of the Epistle to the Romans evidently refers. No part of the chapter appeared to me more dark than this 21st verse for it seemed as if in it the apostle were claiming for God the right of making a man wicked and then denying to the man the right of complaining that he had been so made. “Nay, but O man, who art thou that repliest against God? Shall the thing formed say to him that formed it, why hast thou made me thus? Hath not the potter power over the clay, of the same lump, to make one vessel unto honors and another unto dishonour?”

    These verses do certainly seem to assert in unequivocal terms the Calvinistic doctrine of election but let us turn to the 18th chapter of Jeremiah to which they refer. In the beginning of that chapter it is thus written: “The word which came to Jeremiah from the Lord, saying, Arise and go down to the potter’s house, and there I will cause thee to hear my words. Then I went down to the potter’s house, and behold he wrought a work on the wheels, and the vessel that he made of clay was marred in the hand of the potter; so he made it another vessel, as seemed good to the potter to make it. Then the word of the Lord came unto me, saying, O house of Israel, cannot I do with you, as this potter? saith the Lord. Behold as the clay is in the potter’s hand, so are ye in my hand, O house of Israel” (verses 1–6).

    The Parable of the Potter, Apparently in Favor of the Common View,

    This passage so far as we yet see appears to give full confirmation to the Calvinistic interpretation of the 9th chapter of the Romans. It seems to say that as the potter has the right of making or marring a vessel, as may appear good to him, so God claims to Himself the right of making or marring the character and condition of a man as seems good to Him and that as the potter in this particular instance appeared to have chosen to mar a vessel so God would choose to mar the condition of some men without giving any reason but His own sovereign pleasure. Such a claim on the part of God were indeed a fearful thing, but if this be really the meaning of the passage, there is no replying to it, and we must either acknowledge the Calvinistic doctrine of election in its darkest extent or deny the authority of the Scriptures.

    But this is not the true meaning of the passage as we shall see by merely going on to the following verses in which God himself makes the application of the spectacle which He had brought the prophet to witness in the potter’s house. “O house of Israel, cannot I do with you as this potter? saith the Lord. Behold, as the clay is in the potter’s hand, so are ye in mine hand, O house of Israel. At what instant I shall speak concerning a nation, and concerning a people, to pluck up and to pull down, and to destroy it, if that nation against whom I have pronounced, turn from their evil, I will repent of the evil that I thought to do unto them. And at what instant I shall speak concerning a nation and concerning a kingdom, to build and to plant it; if it do evil in my sight, that it obey not my voice, then I will repent of the good wherewith I said I would benefit them. Now, therefore, go to, speak to the men of Judah and to the inhabitants of Jerusalem, saying, Thus saith the Lord, Behold I frame evil against you, and devise a device against you, RETURN YE NOW EVERY ONE from his evil ways, and make his ways and his doings good” (verses 6–11).

    Is Really Opposed to the Common View

    I saw from this inspired application and interpretation of the action which the prophet witnessed in the potter’s house that what, to a superficial reader, appears to be the meaning of the passage is not its real meaning. I saw that it contained a meaning not only different from but opposed to the ordinary doctrine of election, for it declared that the future prospects of men were placed by God in their own hands and that, as God’s promises and threatenings were addressed not to individuals but to characters, a man by changing his character might change God’s dealing towards him. I saw that it was adduced for the purpose of maintaining, not that the potter had a right to make a vessel good or bad according to his own pleasure, but that he had a right if a vessel turned out ill in his hands, to reject that vessel and break it down and make it up anew into another vessel. The right of making a thing bad is not contemplated at all in the passage—the matter considered is whether the potter, after having once made a vessel, is bound to preserve it although it turns out quite unfit for the purpose for which it was made or whether in such a case, he has the right of rejecting it. And as the exercise of this right of rejection on the part of the potter is unquestioned, although his works do not go wrong by their own fault, much more does God claim to Himself the right of rejecting a people whom He had set up for a particular purpose if they refused to answer that purpose.

    We read in the following chapter that the prophet was desired to carry on and conclude this allegorical instruction to Judah by taking a potter’s vessel and breaking it at the entering in of the east gate of Jerusalem as a sign of the rejection of the Jews and the desolation of the city because they refused to answer God’s purposes in setting them up. They were thus warned that God was not bound to them merely because He had once chosen them for His people but that He was at liberty to reject them, because they had rejected Him.

    The Jewish Notion of Unconditional Election Disclaimed by God

    It is most notable through the whole history of the Jews, both in the Old and New Testament, that they were continually falling into the error against which this instruction was given to guard them. They thought that because they were God’s chosen people and the depositaries of His promises concerning the Messiah they were therefore secure however much they sinned—they thought that God was bound to fulfil those promises to them and could not, without forfeiting His own truth, cast them off—they thought there was an absolute decree interposed between them and rejection. And as this error blinded them to the danger of sin and the nature of God’s righteousness, God set His face against it from the beginning of His communications to them. Thus, when they rebelled against Him in the wilderness by refusing to go forward into the land of Canaan on account of the evil report brought back by the spies, He took them at their own word and said, “Doubtless ye shall not come into the land, concerning which I sware to make you dwell therein, save Caleb the son of Jephunneh, and Joshua the son of Nun” “After the number of the days in which ye searched the land, even forty days, each day for a year shall ye bear your iniquities, even forty years, and ye shall know my breach of promise” (Numbers 14:30, 34).

    The context of the passage in Jeremiah proves that it was to guard against this very error of supposing themselves unconditionally elected that the parable of the potter was spoken, for it is introduced immediately after the utterance of great promises and great threatenings as the reader will see by looking back to the 17th chapter from the 19th verse to the end where it is declared that if the people would really hallow the Sabbath, then there should enter into the gates of the city kings and princes sitting on the throne of David and the city should remain forever, whereas if they profaned the Sabbath, a fire should be kindled in the gates of the city which should devour its palaces and should not be quenched. It was to guard against their besetting error and lest they should, according to their manner, shelter themselves under the former distinguishing mercies of God to them and thus put away the fear of His present threatenings as if He were restrained by His own faithfulness from executing them that the prophet is here commissioned to expound to them the true nature of their standing and of the standing of all men before God—namely, that He in very deed judges men according to their characters and makes promises and threatenings to them simply in relation to their characters and with the view of drawing them out of evil into good and that in accordance with this principle, He would in righteousness cast off the Jewish people notwithstanding all his promises to them if they refused to fill the office of His witnesses which He had designed them to fill and would raise up a people in their room who would fill it. And as He had at first made their nation a vessel unto honor, so if they refused to answer their honorable calling, He would make them a vessel unto dishonor by openly rejecting them and inflicting on them a punishment as signal as was their former preferment.

    Romans 9 Illustrated by Romans 3

    Here, therefore, I found a plain and natural solution of the difficulty in Romans 9:21, and I saw that this apparently dark passage was in truth nothing else than an assertion of God’s right to cast off the Jews from being His visible church and that the apostle was arguing here with his countrymen exactly in the same strain as he had already been doing in a former part of the epistle (chap. 3:5, 6) answering in both places their self-justifying murmurs and excuses with the same summary declaration of God’s right to judge them and righteousness in punishing them. A comparison of the two passages will satisfy the reader that the same subject is treated in both and that the question (chap 9:21) “Hath not the potter power over the clay?” (or, better and more literally, “right over the clay?) corresponds exactly with the question, “Is God unrighteous who taketh vengeance?” in chapter 3.

    Romans 9

    I thought also that I discerned a similarity between the Jewish apologies in both the passages which changed considerably my apprehension of chapter 9:19. It seemed to me that the spirit of the defense set up chapter. 3:7, “For if the truth of God hath more abounded through my lie unto His glory, why yet am I also judged as a sinner” is very nearly allied to that of the defense in chapter 9:19, “Why doth he yet find fault, for who hath resisted his will?” and hence I concluded that in the latter case as well as in the former, the apostle means altogether to deny and disallow the principle of the defense and not merely to rebuke the presumption of it and that his answer in both cases meant to convey to them that they knew in their consciences that God was righteous in holding them responsible for their doings. I was further confirmed by the contents of the 10th and 11th chapters, which relate to the casting off of the Jews and the calling of the Gentiles, that this view of the potter’s right over the clay was the true view of the passage.

    Romans 9 Illustrated by Galatians 4:22, 24

    At about the same time I received a very satisfying light on the preceding portion of the chapter from an expression used in it, which I am surprised has been so little considered by interpreters and commentators. I transcribe the 7th and 8th verses, “Neither because they are the seed of Abraham are they all children, but, in Isaac shall thy seed be called, that is, they which are the children of the flesh, they are not the children of God, but the children of the promise are counted for the seed.” The expression to which I refer is, “that is.” I could not help seeing that this expression indicated that the history of Ishmael and Isaac was intended by God to be a great type or parable by which He might give public warning when He was calling the family of Abraham to be His visible church on the earth, that His real choice rested not on a natural family but on a character and that not the flesh but the spirit should inherit the blessing. Let the reader turn to Galatians 4: 22 where this same history is introduced and let him observe verse 24 where it is said, “which things are an allegory,” and then let him consider whether this latter phrase be not equivalent to the expression “that is” in our chapter. And so, the meaning of the apostle would be to caution those who trusted in their descent from Isaac that they were trusting in a shadow for that the truth which God intended to declare by the history of Isaac was in direct opposition to their hopes, which truth was that God rejected the carnal mind and chose the spiritual mind which waited for the promise through and beyond death. By extending this allegorical character to the cases of Esau and Jacob, Pharaoh and Israel—consecutive pairs representing the same things—the whole chapter became quite clear, being nothing else than a continued declaration of God’s rejection of the flesh, declaration of God’s rejection of the flesh, and election of the spirit in the form of an inspired interpretation and application to the Jews of the typical instruction contained in the early history of their race, which they had hitherto explained according to the letter and not according to the spirit and had thus perverted to a sense directly opposed to the true one. We have only to interpose the key, “that is, the flesh and the spirit,” as we proceed through the allegory and the difficulties vanish. Thus, “the elder shall serve the younger;” that is, the flesh which is the first Adam shall be subjected to the quickening spirit who is the second Adam—“Jacob have I loved, but Esau have I hated,” that is, the spiritual mind have I loved but the carnal mind have I hated—“He hath mercy on whom He will have mercy, and whom He will He hardeneth,” that is, He hath mercy on the spirit, and He hardeneth the flesh according as it is written, “My mercy will I keep for Him (the quickening Spirit) for ever, and his seed will I make to endure for ever” (Ps 89:28, 29) “But flesh and blood shall not inherit the kingdom of God” (1 Cor 15:51), which is the meaning set forth under the figure of Pharaoh the king of Egypt or the flesh being hardened.

    Romans 9 Opposed to Unconditional Election

    I thus perceived that the chapter, instead of being an argument in favor of the common view of election, was in fact an argument expressly written for the purpose of disclaiming and condemning on God’s part all idea of personal or unconditional election. This discovery gave me a general suspicion of the soundness of the interpretation of all passages adduced in support of the received doctrine and encouraged me to expect to find a very different meaning really contained in them. I shall come back upon this chapter again and explain more fully what I believe to be its meaning and the grounds of my belief, but in the meantime, I hope that my reader has seen enough in what I have set before him of its structure and object to diminish his jealousy of my views about it and to persuade him that I have not formed my judgment of the matter lightly, and that therefore, he will allow me to leave it for a little while that we may together proceed to the consideration of some other passages which may assist us in the general apprehension of the subject and so may enable us to return to this particular chapter with understandings more exercised on the principles contained in it.

    Jeremiah 18 Illustrated by 2 Timothy 2

    I found much in this passage of Jeremiah to convince me not only that it was the true key to the passage referring to the potter in Romans 9 but also that it was the true key to the doctrine of God’s election in general. But that I might have more light upon it, I had recourse to other passages where the same symbol occurs and especially one in the 2nd Epistle to Timothy. I shall transcribe the passage at length that the reader may see and judge of the connection. “And if a man strive for masteries, yet is he not crowned, except he strive lawfully. The husbandman must first labour, before he partakes of the fruits. Consider what I say; and the Lord give thee understanding in all things. Remember that Jesus Christ, of the seed of David, was raised from the dead, according to my gospel: wherein I suffer trouble, as an evil-doer, even unto bonds; but the word of God is not bound. Therefore I endure all things for the elect’s sakes, that they may also obtain the salvation which is in Christ Jesus with eternal glory. It is a faithful saying: for if we be dead with him, we shall also live with him: if we suffer, we shall also reign with him: if we deny him, he also will deny us: if we believe not, yet he abideth faithful; he cannot deny himself. Of these things put them in remembrance, charging them before the Lord that they strive not about words to no profit, but to the subverting of the hearers. Study to show thyself approved unto God, a workman that needeth not to be ashamed, rightly dividing the word of truth. But shun profane and vain babblings; for they will increase unto more ungodliness. And their word will eat as doth a canker: of whom is Hymeneus and Philetus; who concerning the truth have erred, saying that the resurrection is past already; and overthrow the faith of some. Nevertheless the foundation of God standeth sure, having this seal, the Lord knoweth them that are his. And, let every one that nameth the name of Christ depart from iniquity. But in a great house there are not only vessels of gold and of silver, but also of wood and of earth; and some to honour, and some to dishonour. If a man therefore purge himself from these, he shall be a vessel unto honour, sanctified, and meet for the master’s use, and prepared unto every good work” (2 Tim 2:5–21).

    The One Predestined Way to Glory Lies Through Death

    The meaning of the passage is evident; no man can arrive at the end without travelling the road; no man can obtain the crown of life except by striving according to God’s way, and that way is set forth thus— “Jesus Christ was raised from the dead according according to my gospel,” that is, He entered into His glory through death, and He is the way. No man enters into glory by any other way. If we die with Him, we shall live with Him. If we suffer with Him, we shall reign with Him. This is the foundation of the Lord which stands sure notwithstanding the vain babblings of men who would teach that there is an easier way to glory like Hymeneus and Philetus who say that because Christ is dead and risen, we may save ourselves the pain of this daily dying and may enter at once into the privilege of the resurrection state in which as no temptation will then be able to reach the inner man through the spiritual body, so there will be no need for self-denial or watchfulness against the flesh and the influence of seen things. These vain babblings, which are the suggestions of the flesh, prevent or destroy the faith of many, and it is the poison proceeding from them which by infecting the soul and eating it as doth a canker makes it and keeps it a vessel unto dishonor. But if any man will purge himself from these vain babblings and will yield himself to be a partaker of Christ’s death and sufferings, he shall be a vessel unto honor. He shall live with Him and reign with Him. Every vessel unto dishonor is thus invited and instructed to become a vessel unto honor and that by the process of purging himself from the vain babblings of the flesh, the first Adam, and following the voice of the second Adam who says, “Take up thy cross and follow me, and where I am, there shall also my servant be.”5 So that to live in the spirit of the first Adam is to be a vessel unto dishonor as the first Adam is and to live in the spirit of the second Adam is to be a vessel unto honor as the second Adam is.

    The Eternal Purpose of God Is that the Way to Life Should Be Through Death

    The importance of this passage in its bearing on the subject of election is more fully seen if it is read in connection with a passage from the preceding chapter, which ought to be considered as a part of the same context. I quote from the 8th verse, “Be not thou therefore ashamed of the testimony of our Lord, nor of me his prisoner: but be thou partaker of the afflictions of the gospel, according to the power of God; who hath saved us, and called us with an holy calling, not according to our works, but according to his own purpose and grace, which was given us in Christ Jesus, before the world began; but is now made manifest, through the appearing of Jesus Christ, who hath abolished death, and hath brought life and immortality to light, through the gospel, whereunto I am appointed a preacher, and an apostle, and a teacher of the Gentiles” (2 Tim. 8:11). Mark especially what is contained in the 9th and 10th verses. The apostle says, God “hath called us with a holy calling, not according to our works, but according to His own purpose and grace.” It is evident that the purpose and grace here mean one and the same thing, even that eternal purpose which God has purposed in Christ and which is so much spoken of in the Bible and especially in the Epistle to the Ephesians 1:11; 3:11 and Romans 8:28, etc. It is a purpose for it is the mind of Him who changes not, and it is grace for it is purposed in order that sinners may be saved. It would perhaps be truer to the sense and more according to our language to read the phrase thus, “according to His own purpose, even the grace which was given us in Christ Jesus before the world began but is now made manifest by the appearing of our Savior Jesus Christ who hath abolished death,” etc. Here then it is plainly declared that the prothesin ton aionon or the eternal purpose of God’s grace which had been hid for us in Christ before the ages was actually opened up and made manifest through the appearing of Jesus Christ. It is something which is already made manifest; it is something which could be and which was shown out in the history of Jesus Christ on this earth. It cannot therefore relate to the personal salvation of a certain number of individuals for such a purpose is not already manifested and certainly was not made manifest through the appearing of Jesus Christ, and indeed, cannot be made manifest by anything else than the manifested salvation of these individuals. It must also be something which is preached when the gospel is preached for it is “made manifest through the appearing of Jesus Christ, who hath abolished death, and brought life and immortality to light, through the gospel,”6 that is, the purpose of God is manifested by that very history which constitutes the subject matter of the gospel, and the way of Christ’s victory over death and of His entering into the resurrection life is the revelation of God’s purpose as it is also the preaching of the gospel. Connect this with chapter 2, verse 8, “Remember that Jesus Christ, of the seed of David, was raised from the dead, according to my gospel,” and with the whole passage following it and then let it be weighed whether or not the eternal purpose of God can be anything else than that faithful sayingthat foundation of the Lord standing sure which is expounded in the second chapter according to which it is appointed that the way up out of the fall and out of death should be through a willing dying to the flesh and to the will of man and according to which the Word took flesh in order to make this way and to become this way and as the Captain of salvation to lead by it all who would consent to die with Him unto themselves that they might with Him live unto God.

    This purpose was most certainly manifested through the appearing of Jesus Christ and a personal selection to salvation was not manifested. Moreover, the purpose here explained has such decided marks of identity with the eternal purpose spoken of in other parts of Scripture and especially in Ephesians 1 and in Romans 8:28 that it is scarcely possible to suppose that any other purpose than this can be referred to in these passages. Thus, let the purpose mentioned in Ephesians 1:11 be compared with the prayer appended to it in verses 19 and 21 and let Romans 8:28 be compared with verse 17th of the same chapter and the oneness of the purpose throughout will be acknowledged. And surely every Christian would be thankful to find that the true preaching of election was nothing else than the preaching of the grace of God. On the whole, I was confirmed by these considerations in the conviction not only that the passage which I have quoted at length from the second chapter is intended by the Apostle to be an exposition of a purpose of God but further that it is in truth an exposition of that great purpose in Christ which is so constantly referred to in the Bible—being indeed that which truly forms the subject of all God’s revelations to man and the ground of all man’s hope towards God.

    I now saw the doctrine of election clearly for I saw that the vessel unto dishonor was the reprobate vessel and that the vessel unto honor was the elect vessel and that under these figures, the first Adam and the second Adam, the flesh and the spirit are set forth. The first Adam was created for glory, honor, and immortality as God’s vicegerent upon the earth, but by following his own will separate from and independent of God’s will, he was rejected and fell under the sentence of degradation and death and thus became a vessel unto dishonor. And the second Adam by following not his own will but the will of the Father and accepting the punishment of death as the Father’s righteous judgment on the flesh was raised from the dead to a glorious immortality as the Father’s vicegerent instead of the first Adam and thus became a vessel unto honor. This is Reprobation and the Election.

     Adam the Reprobate Head, Christ the Elect Head of the whole race as is typified in Saul and David

    Let us look at it in the type for a moment. Saul was reprobated or rejected from being king over Israel because he was disobedient in the matter of Amalek, and David was elected or chosen into his place because he was according to God’s own heart so that the mind of God expressed in this transaction is just a seeking after righteousness. Saul was made king that he along with the people might serve the Lord in his kingdom, but when he refused to serve Him, he became a snare to himself and to the people, and he was rejected because the Lord desired righteousness, and David who was according to this desire was chosen into his place. Saul, however, was not immediately removed out of the way. Although rejected, he was still permitted to retain his power in the kingdom. But David was there also. Thus, these two kings, the one rejected and the other elected by God, were both together in the land as if to try the people whether they would cleave to God’s reprobation or God’s election. The nation thus had two heads, and every individual in the nation might choose to which of these heads he would give his heart and adherence. And according to their choice, so was it unto them. Those who followed the reprobate head partook in his reprobation, and those who followed the elect head partook of his election.

    Every Man Called to Choose between These Two Heads and Becomes Reprobate or Elect According to His Choice

    We are not, then, to think of God as looking upon two men and choosing righteousness for the one and unrighteousness for the other. The desire of God is always for righteousness. And so, the election in Christ is indeed the coming forth of God’s desire that all should be righteous as we shall see more fully afterwards.

    The first Adam, who is the antitype of Saul, is rejected like him from the favor of God and from being king, but still he is not taken out of the way, he is still permitted to retain his power: the flesh still reigns. The Second Adam, who is the true David, is elected into his place and honored with the favor of God and with the kingly office, but His power is not yet manifested. He is still, like David, seeking where to lay his head. Both these kings are in the world under the character of the flesh and the spirit—the one, the reprobate head, the other, the elect head, and they are so in the world that every individual may join himself to and identify himself with the one or the other according to his own choice. And those who follow the flesh partake in its reprobation, and those who follow the spirit partake of its election. The sentence of dishonor and death passed on the first Adam is the decree of reprobation by which flesh with the blood thereof, which is the life thereof, is forever excluded from the favor and kingdom of God as it is written, “Flesh and blood cannot inherit the kingdom of God, neither doth corruption inherit incorruption” (1 Cor 15:50). And whoever would escape from the reprobation must escape from that on which the reprobation lies, even flesh with the life thereof. And the promise of an eternal kingdom to the Messiah is the decree of election, “I will be his Father, and he shall be my Son; and I will not take away my mercy from him, as I took it from him that was before thee, but I will settle him in my house and in my kingdom for ever, and his throne shall be established for evermore” (1 Chron 17:13). And whoever would partake in the election must abide in Him on whom the election lies according to that word, “There is no condemnation to them who are in Christ Jesus, who walk not after the flesh but after the Spirit” (Rom 8:1). And all the benedictions in the Bible are addressed to Christ’s Spirit and to the partakers in it. For example, “Blessed are the poor in spirit,” “Blessed are they that mourn,” etc. And these benedictions are nothing else than declarations of that decree of election which limits the favor of God to the righteous spirit of the Righteous Head. The election is on the righteous One and as a man becomes righteous through Christ the righteous head dwelling in him by faith, so also does he become elect.

    It surely is a strong argument in favor of this view of the subject that according to it the doctrine of election so harmonizes with the preaching of the gospel with its benedictions and its exhortations and its threatenings.

    Reprobation Is Blame of Evil, Election Is Approval of Good  

    The decree of reprobation is not a decree which shuts in a man to sin and to punishment—it is a decree which pronounces a sentence of punishment against sin for thus it spoke to Adam, “Because thou hast hearkened to the voice of thy wife, and hast eaten of the tree,” etc. And the decree of election does not shut in a man to holiness and blessedness but pronounces a blessing on holiness for thus it spoke to Christ, “Thou lovest righteousness and hatest wickedness, therefore God, thy God, hath anointed thee with the oil of gladness above thy fellows” (Psalm 45:7). The importance of this observation lies in this that as Adam and Christ are the heads of the reprobation and the election, so they are also specimens of the way in which every individual falls under one or other of these sentences. They who follow the reprobate head, they are re probate; they who follow the elect Head, they are elect.

    God’s Account of the Difference Amongst Men

    But someone will say, this is true but we must go further back to see what is the cause of this difference amongst men. What makes one man follow the reprobate head and another follow the elect head? We may seek to go further back, but God does not go further back. He has provided man with ability, and He lays the use of that ability to man’s own door. Thus, in accounting for a wicked man’s turning away from his wickedness, He merely says “Because he considereth, and turneth away from all his transgressions, he shall surely live” (Ezekial 18:29). And in like manner, in accounting for a wicked man continuing in his wickedness, He merely says, “Because I have called, and ye refused, I have stretched out my hand, and no man regarded,” etc. (Prov 1:24).

    The difficulty that men feel in this matter is nothing else than the difficulty which they have in believing that God really has made a responsible creature with the power of choice between flesh and spirit to whom he can truly and reasonably say, “I have set before thee, this day, life and death, blessing and cursing, therefore choose life.”

    Enlarged Meaning of the Parable of the Potter

    I now saw the larger meaning of the action of the Potter. That mystery indeed signified that God, the great Potter, had the right and would exercise the right of rejecting a vessel which misgave in his hands and of making a new one to fill its place. It signified that God would reject the Jews from being His visible church and would call another people to that office, but it signified more than all this—it signified that after the vessel was marred, the purpose of God was to be fulfilled, not in making an entirely new vessel, but in making up the clay of the original marred vessel into another vessel for it is not said that the potter made another vessel but that he made it—that is, the clay of the first marred vessel—into another vessel. I saw that the mysterious action of the potter symbolized the whole history of man; the first vessel representing the fallen state of man as standing in the first Adam who was marred in the hands of the Potter, and the second vessel representing the resurrection state of man as standing in the second Adam who was raised out of the ruins of the fall, the first-begotten from the dead. It seemed to me also that by the same symbol the prophet was taught that the promise of the Messiah’s kingdom contained in the 25th verse of the preceding chapter (Jer 17), namely that there should enter into the gates of the city kings and princes sitting on the throne of David was not to be accomplished in its true substance and meaning to the first vessel, that is, to man in his present state, but to the second vessel, that is, to man in the resurrection state and that the true substance and meaning of the observance of the Sabbath on the condition of which the promise was made consisted in waiting for the Lord of the resurrection who is the Lord of the Sabbath and ceasing from resting or seeking rest in present things but expecting the rest and the glory reserved for his reign and that both the outward promise and the outward commandment were only shadows of spiritual things, but that the body and substance were in the crucified and risen Messiah (Col. 2:16, 17), and it seemed to me also that by the same spectacle the prophet was prepared to see a hope and a way of deliverance for his people out from the apparently irretrievable ruin predicted in the sixth chapter, 11th verse under the sign of the breaking of a potter’s vessel, which cannot be made whole again for though the marred vessel was not to be made whole again in its original condition, yet the potter could and would make into another and more glorious vessel the clay, however marred, which yielded itself into his hands to be broken down and to be renewed.

    Jeremiah 17 and 2 Timothy 2 Compared with 1 Corinthians 15

    I saw further that the vessel unto honor in Timothy was the second vessel in Jeremiah and that the vessel unto dishonor was the first. I found much corroboration of this view of the subject in 1 Corinthians 15 where the first and second vessels are contrasted: “It is sown in corruption, it is raised in incorruption; it is sown in dishonor, it is raised in glory.” Observe that there is an identity in that which is sown and that which is raised. The same it is sown and raised. This agrees with what we have observed in Jeremiah and Timothy. God wills not the destruction of a sinner but that he should turn and live. He calls on him to purge himself from vain babblings and to give up his old nature to be broken down in order to his being made into a new vessel.

    The Parable of the Potter in Reference to the Jews

    Thus the parable of the potter has two meanings—the one, more outward and confined, being of special application to the visible church of God, which consisted during that dispensation of the Jewish people to whom it gave warning that God was not bound to retain them in that place of honor unconditionally but that He might and would reject them if they refused to answer His purpose and would elect another people in their room; the other more inward and enlarged being a declaration of the common history and common hope of man in the fall of Adam and the redemption of Christ. The reference to it in Romans 9 regards the first of these meanings primarily though it embraces also the second. According to the first meaning, the Jewish race was the same lump out of which God made one vessel unto honor when He constituted them His visible church and another unto dishonor when He broke down the whole frame of their polity and scattered them as outcasts among the nations after their rejection of Jesus. Their place of honor was connected with a heavy responsibility. It was indeed a high place, but the penalty attached to a failure in the duties belonging to it was as high, and we have intimations in their history that they often desired to get quit of the responsibility though at the expense of giving up their place. They said, “We will be as the nations” just as a man might wish to get quit of responsibility and eternity though at the expense of becoming a lower animal. But God did not relieve them of their responsibility because they felt it burdensome. He had given them a provision in which they might have met it, and therefore, He asserted that He had a righteous right both to lay on them the office and to require the fulfilment of its duties. He had not consulted them whether they would undertake to be His visible church, though He at different times called on them to avouch what He had done. He had, of His own counsel, put them at once into the office and the responsibility just as He had not consulted man whether he would consent to be made in the image of God but had invested him originally in the privilege and the responsibility appended to it. And when they fell, although they had not chosen their own dignity, yet God inflicted the penalty and asserted his own righteousness in doing so. “And who art thou that repliest against God? shall the thing formed say unto Him that formed it, Why hast thou made me thus?”

    God’s Sovereignty Appears in Appointing Man’s Trials, Not in Determining His Reception of Them

    Let the reader observe that the view here given of God’s sovereignty is quite different from that which is given of it in the common doctrine of election. Here, it is set forth as exercised in determining what shall be the different privileges and opportunities of different men but not in determining how they shall use them, which is the view taken in the common doctrine.


    1. Deut 30:15, 19. ↩︎
    2. Matt 25:24. ↩︎
    3. Rom 9:20. ↩︎
    4. Isa 5:3. ↩︎
    5. Matt 16:24; John 14:3. ↩︎
    6. 2 Tim 1:10. ↩︎

  • The Purpose of God in the Creation of Man

    “The Purpose of God in the Creation of Man” is an adaptation of the third chapter of Thomas Erskine’s final book, The Spiritual Order and Other Papers. It was published and distributed as a pamphlet in 1870 immediately following Erskine’s death.

    Abstract:

    Thomas Erskine argues that human life should not be understood primarily as a “state of probation” in which God tests and judges us, but rather as a divine education aimed at forming us into fellowship with God and sharing His righteous character. The probation view, he says, reduces God to an impartial judge, traps people in fear and self‑reliance, and distorts the Gospel into another test—this time of whether one has “believed” correctly. By contrast, the educational view reveals God as a loving Father whose purpose is to heal, correct, and transform His children, even through suffering, and whose condemnation of sin is itself an expression of steadfast love seeking our deliverance. Erskine insists that this purpose must extend beyond this life, for otherwise God’s intention to form humanity in righteousness would fail, which would undermine belief in a truly righteous and loving God.

    Is it a correct description of man’s state in this world to call it “a state of probation?” Undoubtedly, there are few phrases in popular theology more generally accepted than this, but does it give a true explanation of our condition? Are we actually placed here for the purpose of being tested whether we will walk in God’s way or in our own? Is this God’s final word to us, “I have given you a certain amount of light and certain powers of using that light, and I will see whether you are faithful to this trust or no and will judge you accordingly”?

    Most assuredly our lives are full of trial. At every step good and evil are set before us, and we are called upon to choose between them, and we are conscious that a judgment is passed upon us in every case according as our choice is right or wrong. It would be folly to question this, but I will ask whether this is all and whether God has not a purpose to serve by this trial beyond that of merely trying and judging us? And if He has such a purpose, ought not the whole process to take its name from that purpose rather than from the means by which it is attained? But what can we suppose that purpose to be? Is it not the right and blessed development of all our faculties? Is it not education?

    These two views of human life are in principle opposed to each other and lead to opposing conceptions of the character of God and of the relation in which we stand to Him. If we come to a conclusion that we are here simply upon trial or under probation, we cannot but regard God merely as a Judge who is keeping as it were a debtor and creditor account with us and who will judge us according to that account. If this be indeed our conclusion, we may in word call Him Father, and we may in word ascribe love to Him, but we cannot really regard Him as a Father, nor trust in His love, nor feel ourselves safe in His hands.

    In fact, this idea of probation corresponds exactly to the idea of Law which occupies so large a space in the epistles of St. Paul, and which is by him contrasted with the idea of Gospel. It narrows our conception of all that we have to look for from God to strict impartiality, and therefore, any hope of a favorable judgment from Him must necessarily rest on the estimate we form of our own obedience—our own conformity to the standard of the law. And when the truth is at last forced upon us that the law requires nothing short of unselfish love to God and man in thought, word, and deed, all hope founded on obedience is utterly swept away because we discover that we have not only in time past been living in neglect of this great commandment but that we cannot obey it by any efforts in our power. We are thus, as it were, shut up into hopeless condemnation both as regards the past and the future. Evidently, in such circumstances we can find no help from the character of God. It is a mere terror to us making filial trust,1 which in the light of the eternal Sonship is seen to be the proper righteousness of man absolutely impossible.

    On the mere principle of Law there is no place for forgiveness, and thus, when we become conscious of having sinned, we see no outlet from condemnation. This is our inevitable condition so long as we believe ourselves to be merely in a state of probation. We have no hope in ourselves, for we feel that we are sinners, and we have no hope in God for we see in Him only an impartial retributive justice. This dark view of the character of God and of the relation in which He stands to us—resulting from the idea of our being in a state of probation—has unquestionably affected to a considerable extent the religious mind of our country, and so long as this idea is retained, it even robs the Gospel of its healing virtue suggesting as it does that this revelation brings no unconditional blessing but only varies the form of our trial for it now suspends the final award, not indeed on perfect obedience, but on the answer to this question, Are you a believer? And thus it forces us to seek our confidence, not in the Father’s forgiving love revealed in the gift of His Son—but in our performance of the task of believing—an undefinable task substituted for a free salvation and which no man whilst thus contemplating it ever knows whether he has accomplished or not.

    And there are other evils resulting from this idea which are of no small moment. Amongst these, perhaps, the most perilous is that it suggests the wish that the standard of righteousness were lowered. Then, again, it almost necessarily makes us more occupied with the punishment of sin than with its moral evil—with the thought of how we may obtain forgiveness than with the thought of becoming righteous. And hence, also the life and death of Christ have come to be regarded rather as a propitiation to divine justice through which mercy may be extended to the guilty than as a manifestation of that righteousness which God desires to see in us and of His own righteous love which, whilst it can never cease to condemn our sin, can never cease to seek our deliverance from it. We may conclude, then, that this conception of our relation to God as interpreted by the idea of probation is really opposed to the spirit of Christianity for there is nothing in it which answers to the announcement that God is the loving Father of all men—nothing which can help us to love Him and to flee to Him and trust Him under a sense of sin and pollution, under the pressure of weariness and weakness, of sorrow and suffering—nothing which can really help us to be righteous with the righteousness of filial trust.

    But let us now look at the other side of the question and consider ourselves as having been created for the purpose of being educated into fellowship with God and into a participation of His character and blessedness and as ever living under the action of this purpose. If we adopt this view of our condition, the darkness passes away and all becomes light. We no longer feel ourselves under the cold eye of a Judge but under the loving and encouraging eye of a Father who “willeth not the death of a sinner, but that he should turn from his wickedness and live.”2 There can be no doubt that this purpose carries in itself a continual assurance of God’s fatherly love to us and of His substantial forgiveness of all past sin, imparting its own loving character to all the circumstances of our lot, and even to the punishments and sufferings which our Father may see fit to send. “He afflicteth not willingly but for our profit, that we may be partakers of His holiness.”3 And, further, there can be no doubt that the belief that this is indeed God’s purpose is a continual call and help towards growth in righteousness, inasmuch as it is fitted to inspire an unextinguishable trust in Him, which, as we have already seen,4 is itself the right state of the creature in relation to the Creator and the only spiritual condition which can lead to the sacrifice of self by which sacrifice alone sin is put away. I would say, then, that this idea of the purpose of our Creator is the very basis of all true thoughts of Him and of our relation to Him. Without it Christianity may retain its name of gospel, but it ceases to be a gospel and loses its fundamental meaning inasmuch as the redemption through Christ is in very deed the manifestation of this purpose and of the way in which it is to be accomplished.

    But all desirable as it is for us that such a purpose should exist in the heart of God and all reasonable as it seems to be that it should exist there—yet is it possible to reconcile the aspect of the world with the existence of such a purpose? When we look around us, we see by far the largest portion of mankind engaged in simply warding off the pressure of physical wants, and of those who are raised above this abject condition, almost all are taken up with merely selfish pursuits—with the endeavor to secure wealth or power or pleasure or ease. This does not look like a purpose to educate men in goodness, yet how are we to judge of the purpose of God but by what we actually see taking place under His providential government? When we see the evil everywhere so far exceeding the good, are we justified in believing that He really condemns and abhors it, that He really prefers good to evil, righteousness to unrighteousness, and that He really has the purpose of educating all men into a participation of His own righteousness and blessedness? Would it not be more logical to suppose that He is quite indifferent or rather prefers evil to good?

    There is an answer to these questions which fully satisfies my reason, and it is this. I am conscious in my own inner man of an over-shadowing of evil, just as I see it in the outer world, but I am also most distinctly conscious of the divine condemnation resting upon it all and of a call on me to take part with God in His condemnation of it and His conflict with it. I am sure that this is the true account of the world within me, and I am constrained by reason and conscience to interpret by it the state of the world without me. I am sure that the condemnation of God rests on all sin there too, however unchecked it may seem to be, and I am also sure that this same witness of God against all evil, which I feel within myself, is really in the heart of every human being, unheard and unattended to though it may be, and I cannot otherwise interpret this witness than as the expression of God’s purpose of unchanging love, which will never cease its striving till it has engaged every child of man to take part with Him in this contest.

    In coming to this conclusion, it is manifest that I am constrained to adopt the assurance that this purpose follows man out from his present life through all stages of being that lie before him unto its full accomplishment. And, indeed, unless we accept this hope, we must give up the idea that the purpose of God in creating man was to educate him as it can no otherwise be maintained. But verily it seems to me that in giving up this idea, we are actually giving up the idea of God altogether and surrendering ourselves to atheism as well as desperation. For what is true theism but the belief that the ruling Power in the universe, the only absolute Power that exists or can exist in space or in duration, is a Being whose nature is righteous love and who is therefore the enemy of all sin, as the opposite of all righteousness and true blessedness, and who will therefore never cease His endeavors to extinguish it and establish righteousness throughout His moral creation?

    There can be no real gospel, no real good news for man which does not hold out this assurance. In point of fact, no one who believes in a righteous God at all can conceive the possibility of His ever ceasing to condemn sin, and surely His condemnation of our sin necessarily implies His demand for our righteousness just as the condemnation of darkness necessarily implies a demand for light. This has not been sufficiently considered by theologians who have generally represented the holiness of God as an attribute rather fitted to quench the hopes of a sinner than to encourage them, although it is the very attribute in which the old prophet Habakkuk first seems to have found a light and a power enabling him to realize for himself and his countrymen that the purpose of God in sending affliction is not to destroy but to correct, that is, to educate. “Art Thou not from everlasting, O Lord my God, mine Holy One? We shall not die. O Lord, Thou hast ordained them for judgment; and O mighty God, Thou hast established them for correction” (Hab 1:12).



    1. See Chap. II. “The Divine Sonship” in Erskine’s The Spiritual Order and Other Papers. ↩︎
    2. Paraphrasing Ezekiel 33:11, 19. ↩︎
    3. Paraphrasing Lamentations 3:33 and Hebrews 12:10. ↩︎
    4. Another reference to Chap. II. “The Divine Sonship” in Erskine’s The Spiritual Order and Other Papers. ↩︎

  • Salvation

    The essay Thomas Erskine titled “Salvation” was written in 1816 but not published until 1825 when it appeared as the Introductory Essay to Letters of the Samuel Rutherford: Late Professor of Divinity at St. Andrews.

    Abstract:

    Thomas Erskine’s essay “Salvation” argues that true salvation is not merely pardon from guilt but the healing and restoration of the soul into likeness with God. Drawing an analogy from bodily danger and disease, Erskine distinguishes between external deliverance (judicial acquittal) and internal renewal (spiritual health), insisting that the latter is God’s ultimate aim. He contends that the gospel reveals God’s character—justice and mercy united in Christ’s atoning work—in such a way that faith awakens love for God, and this love alone restores the soul’s health. Salvation, therefore, is the transformation of character produced by believing contemplation of God as revealed in Christ, with pardon serving as a means toward this deeper end rather than the end itself.

    To understand the doctrines of the Bible aright, it is of the greatest importance to form just ideas of what is meant by the word “salvation,” as many of the practical errors into which men have fallen on the subject of Christianity have arisen from a misconception of this term: some supposing it to refer merely to the pardon of sin and others to an undefined happiness in a future state.

    To assist our inquiries into this most interesting subject, it is of importance to examine the different passages of Scripture in which this term is used and to compare it with other terms which are frequently employed as synonymous with it.

    In Scripture, the term salvation, with its grammatical branches, is applied to the bodies as well as to the souls of men. When applied to the body, it varies in its meaning according to the state or condition of those who are the subjects of it. These conditions are chiefly two, namely, first, a state of danger arising from causes external to the body such as shipwreck, war, or famine; and, secondly, a state of danger arising from disease within the body.

    First, when the term salvation is applied to persons in a state of danger from external causes, it means an external act, corresponding to the nature of the danger by which the cause of the danger is removed and security restored. Thus, in the description of the shipwreck given in the 27th chapter of the Acts, the word sōzō is used to signify deliverance from the danger of the sea: “And when neither sun nor stars in many days appeared, and no small tempest lay on us, all hope that we should be saved was then taken away.”— “Paul said to the centurion and to the soldiers, Except these abide in the ship, ye cannot be saved.” And in the following chapter, verse 1st, the word translated escaped is derived from the same root. In the Septuagint the same word is applied to those who have escaped from battle. When our Lord, in the agony of his soul, prays that the bitter cup of suffering might pass from him, he uses the same word: “Now is my soul troubled; and what shall I say? Father, save me from this hour: but for this cause came I unto this hour.” Jude applies it to the deliverance from the land of Egypt: “I will therefore put you in remembrance, though ye once knew this, how that the Lord, having saved the people out of the land of Egypt, afterward destroyed them that believed not.” In these cases, salvation means simply such a change upon the external circumstances in which the body is placed that danger is removed and safety recovered. No change is produced on the body itself, but only on its situation with regard to other things.

    Secondly, when this term is applied to the case of persons laboring under disease, it signifies an internal operation suited also to the evil which it remedies by which the inward principle of the malady is counteracted and the bodily organs restored to healthful exercise. This is the most common use of the word in the New Testament when it refers to the body. In this sense it occurs in most of the narratives of our Lord’s miraculous cures and is rendered in our translation by various English phrases such as “made whole”— “For she said within herself, If I may but touch his garment, I shall be whole. But Jesus turned him about; and when he saw her, he said, Daughter, be of good comfort; thy faith hath made thee whole. And the woman was made whole from that hour.” “And whithersoever he entered, into villages, or cities, or country, they laid the sick in the streets, and be sought him that they might touch if it were but the border of his garment: and as many as touched him were made whole.”— “Healed”— “They also which saw it told them by what means he that was possessed of the devils was healed.”— “He shall do well” “Then said his disciples, Lord, if he sleep, he shall do well.” In these cases salvation does not mean a change upon circumstances external to the body but upon the internal condition of the body itself. The distinction between these two classes of cases is obvious. In both, an external agent is supposed to apply the remedy but the operation of this agent differs according to the nature of the evil. In the first class, it is directed to the external circumstances in which the body is placed—in the second, it is directed to the body itself.

    We frequently see these two kinds of salvation conjoined—thus, a man is imprisoned on suspicion of a crime and in consequence of the unhealthiness of the place, is seized with the jail fever—at last he is acquitted, and his liberation is followed by restored health. Here the one salvation is the effect of the other and is indeed the only thing which could make the other valuable. Take another instance: A man loses his health from the use of improper food—a benevolent person, by supplying him with proper food, restores his health. Here, the external evil is unwholesome food, and the internal is disease. There are also two kinds of salvation corresponding to these two evils, the one of which, however, is entirely subservient to the other. The change of food is made simply for the purpose of restoring health, and if this effect does not follow nothing has been accomplished which can properly be called salvation; the whole plan has failed. Salvation then properly refers to the ultimate object in the series. If a man is simply in danger of being lost by shipwreck, his ultimate object is to be safe on dry land, but if the fear of this danger has deprived him of his reason, then the recovery of his mental health becomes the ultimate object and the salvation from shipwreck becomes merely a step to the salvation of his reason. So, if a man has the disease of cancer, he may be delivered from the cancer by the knife, but then the salvation from the cancer is subservient to the salvation of his health, and unless this consequence follows, the object has failed.

    The minuteness of these observations may seem tedious, but we have been led to them from the persuasion that a greater attention to the analogy, which subsists between the treatment of the body under danger or disease and the gospel scheme of salvation, would very much increase the accuracy of our ideas on religious subjects. Salvation from bodily disease is frequently expressed by the word “life:” “Jesus saith unto him, Go thy way; thy son liveth. And the man believed the word that Jesus had spoken unto him, and he went his way.”— “And he besought him greatly, saying, My little daughter lieth at the point of death: I pray thee, come and lay thy hands on her, that she may be healed; and she shall live.” In which last instance, “she shall live,” is used as explanatory of “that she may be healed.” Life in these cases evidently signifies the full exercise of the animal faculties and when it follows sickness, is synonymous with a confirmed cure. This same salvation is also expressed by the term “loosing,” or freeing from the bondage of pain: “And ought not this woman, being a daughter of Abraham, whom Satan hath bound, lo, these eighteen years, be loosed from this bond on the sabbath-day?”

    We now proceed to consider the import of the term salvation when applied to the soul. Salvation, when applied to the soul, refers also to two kinds of evils, which, though different in their nature, are yet always conjoined—the one being external to the soul, the other internal—the first consisting in the sentence of God against the soul on account of disobedience, the second consisting in the diseased and depraved state of the soul itself. The first of these evils, namely, the sentence of God against the soul on account of disobedience, consists in an eternal exclusion from the family and favor of God. The second evil, namely, the diseased state of the soul itself, consists in that disposition which leads to disobedience. Salvation from the first of these evils may be termed a judicial acquittal. Salvation from the second, a recovery of spiritual health.

    In order to understand and adore the wisdom of God in redemption, it is necessary to understand the way in which these two kinds of salvation are connected for they are never disjoined. Now there are two ways in which things may be conjoined, namely, by arbitrary connection, and by natural connection. As an instance of the first, we may take the obligation under which a man lies to take certain oaths when he is entrusted with certain offices under government. There is no natural or necessary connection between these two things, the connection arises out of law or usage: the man may take the oaths without getting the office. As instances of the second, we may take the connection which subsists between a man’s being a father and having a kindness for his children, or between a man’s receiving a favor and feeling gratitude.

    It may here be argued with justice that, as God is the God of nature, every connection which he appoints becomes a natural connection. This is not denied, and all that is meant here by natural connection is such a relation between two things that to our minds the existence of the one appears indispensable to the existence of the other, or at least that the existence of the one appears to us in the ordinary course of things to lead to the existence of the other.

    Let us now take a short view of the gospel system that we may perceive how the two kinds of salvation therein revealed are connected, that is, how pardon through a Saviour is connected with the recovery of spiritual health and also that we may perceive which of the two is the ultimate object in God’s dealings with men. The Bible informs us that man has fallen from God’s favor and from his own natural happiness by having a will different from God’s will and by acquiring a character and pursuing a conduct opposite to God’s character and conduct. Mere pardon, to a creature in this situation, would be comparatively of small consequence because his unhappiness arose necessarily out of his character, and, therefore, unless his character were changed, his unhappiness remained the same. The enjoyments of God’s family were things contrary to his corrupted taste and choice, and, therefore, his free admission into them could be no blessing to him. In order to his happiness, the restoration of his lost privileges must be accompanied by a restoration of the capacity to enjoy them. For this reason, when God invited his rebellious creatures to return to his favor and family, he did it in such a way that the soul which truly accepted of the invitation imbibed at the same time the principles of a new character.

    There is a difference between the body and the mind which should here be taken notice of. The body may be perfectly capable of enjoyment and yet at the same time perfectly miserable in consequence of being precluded from the means of enjoyment. Thus, a man in a perfect state of health may be made unhappy by being fettered in a noisome dungeon where he is debarred from the exercise of those animal faculties the gratification of which constitutes animal enjoyment. But we cannot apply this reasoning to the mind. A perfectly healthful state of mind, according to the appointment of him who changes not, is inseparably connected with mental enjoyment. The happiness of God arises necessarily out of his character, and the mental health of intelligent creatures, which is in fact nothing more nor less than a resemblance to the character of God, must also be inseparably connected with happiness. So that perfect mental health is not simply the capacity for enjoyment, it may perhaps more properly be said to constitute enjoyment itself. The same or similar causes must produce the same or similar effects, and if the character of God is the cause of his happiness, a similar character (with reverence be it spoken) must produce a similar happiness. And this happiness can be produced by no other character for that would be to suppose that opposite causes could produce the same effects.

    If this be so, it follows that a restoration to spiritual health or conformity to the divine character is the ultimate object of God in his dealings with the children of men. Whatever else God hath done with regard to men has been subsidiary and with a view to this; even the unspeakable work of Christ and pardon freely offered through his cross have been but means to a farther end, and that end is that the adopted children of the family of God might be conformed to the likeness of their elder brother—that they might resemble him in character and thus enter into his joy. This is spiritual health, and it is acquired by the blessing of God upon the reception and faithful use of the means which he hath appointed and made known to us in the history of his mercy through a Savior. Free offer of pardon through the Son of God is termed salvation just in the same way that a medicine is, in common language, called a cure; that is, they do not strictly constitute salvation—they only produce it. Before entering on the consideration of those passages which confirm this view of the subject, we shall endeavor to make our meaning more distinctly understood. It must be remembered always that the love of God with the whole heart is not only the sum of all that duty which is positively enjoined on us by the divine law under an awful penalty, but also, that it is the only principle which can produce or maintain spiritual health. Our failure, therefore, in obedience to this law of love not only exposes us to the penalty denounced against disobedience but also plants in our souls the seeds of disease.

    Let us suppose that the inhabitants of any district were liable to an epidemic disorder which from the partial derangement accompanying it naturally unfitted its victims for the exercise of civil rights and that there were in the neighborhood certain salubrious springs which had the virtue of counteracting the tendency to disease in those who used them, the waters of which were very palatable to those who were in health but very disagreeable to those who were infected. Let us suppose farther that the government, anxious for the well-being of the people, should enact a law, binding every individual to drink these waters at fixed periods under the penalty of forfeiting all civil rights and immunities in case of disobedience; thus adding the sanction of law to the constitution of nature. In these circumstances, it is evident that disobedience would be attended by two distinct consequences: first, by disqualification for holding any office in the state as the legal penalty of disobedience, and, secondly, by a disease (from not using the antidote) which would of itself naturally unfit the subject of it from holding any office even were he not excluded by law and which would also oppose its own cure by producing a strong repugnance to the only medicine which could remove it. Their natural repugnance to the waters would also be strengthened by irritation against the government under whose condemnation they lay and by the persuasion that obedience could now be of no use because the penalty was already incurred. In this supposed case, we see obedience, health, and the enjoyment of civil privileges united both by law and nature on the one side and disobedience, civil disqualifications, and disease as closely united on the other. We see also that this disease can only be removed by a return to obedience and that this obedience can only be produced by some motive powerful enough to overcome the distaste for the remedy. As health and the enjoyment of civil privileges were from the outset inseparably connected in the mind of the government and as the law was made simply for the purpose of giving an additional motive for using the necessary means of preserving health, so if the malady should become generally prevalent (the original connection between health and civil privileges still subsisting and being itself the real ground of the present disqualifications) the views of government would become primarily directed to those means by which the people might be induced to return to the use of that remedy which could alone restore health and fit them for the exercise of those privileges for which they had disqualified themselves both by law and nature. The reason of this is obvious because the removal of the legal disqualifications could be of no possible use whilst the disease continued except in so far as it acted as a motive with the diseased outlaws for applying the remedy both by showing them that the road to preferment was now set open if they were only fit for it and also by manifesting the kindly disposition of government and thus exciting them to gratitude and obedience.

    Although it is perhaps impossible to make out a perfect analogy between the things of the visible and invisible worlds, yet there appear to us to be some circumstances in this case which bear very much on the relation which, according to the Bible, subsists between God and man.

    The rights and immunities of God’s family consist in possessing the favor of God, in approaching to him at all times as our Father, in enjoying what he enjoys, in rejoicing to see his will accomplished through the wide range of his dominions, and in being ourselves made instruments in accomplishing it.

    The only character which is capable of enjoying these privileges or indeed of considering them in the light of privileges must be one which is in some measure conformed to God’s character. This then is spiritual health, which evidently can only be de rived from or maintained by a love, a predominant love to God in his true character. But as man from the constitution of his nature was liable to choose differently from God’s choice and thus to fall into spiritual disease, it pleased the divine wisdom to point out in the form of an express law the only source of spiritual health saying, “Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thine heart” and to sanction it by the penalty of exclusion in case of disobedience and the promise of divine privileges in case of obedience. Thus, we see here also obedience, spiritual health, and heavenly immunities united by nature as well as by positive law on the one side, and disobedience, spiritual disease, and forfeiture on the other. Man disobeyed the commandment, he loved other things better than God, and thus subjected himself to the legal penalty and at the same time, was affected with that spiritual disease which disqualified him for being a member of God’s family even supposing that there had been no legal exclusion whatever.

    When the mercy of God purposed to deliver man from this state of misery into which he had precipitated himself, it became his object to bring him back to spiritual health and thus to make him partake of heavenly happiness. But the source of health still continued the same; an intelligent being could only become like God by loving God in his true character. It became necessary then that some manifestation of the divine holiness and justice should be made so interwoven with motives to gratitude that he who believed the history of it should be constrained to love not only the mercy of God but even that awful and pure sanctity which cannot look upon iniquity.

    We naturally esteem and even love perfect justice except in those cases where its condemning sentence falls upon ourselves. At the same time, if justice is compromised even in our own favor our gratitude is necessarily mingled with a degree of contempt or disesteem, so that it is the union of kindness and justice in their highest degrees which alone can attract perfect reverential love.

    Now, supposing that such a manifestation of the character of God had been made as that his mercy had seemed to overlook sanctity and throw it into the shade by affixing no stigma to transgression, our love could not have been accompanied by perfect reverence, and moreover, what is principally to be attended to, this love could not have the effect of healing our spiritual disease because not being attracted by the full and true character of God it could not produce in us a resemblance to that true character which is the main object to be accomplished. This supposition is, of course, merely made for the sake of the argument for it is absurd to suppose that God should manifest himself otherwise than in his true character.

    A manifestation of unmixed justice in the Divine character must have been still more inefficacious. It could have attracted no love and, of course, no resemblance. It could only have confirmed the sentence of condemnation and thus have strengthened our enmity and despair even whilst it might have compelled our respect.

    In order to produce real spiritual health, the Divine manifestation must be such as to excite within our hearts a perfect complacency in all and each of the perfections of God. It must lead us to adopt his loves and hatreds so to speak. It must exhibit sin to us not only as fearful from its consequences but as hateful in itself and revolting to every feeling of affection and gratitude. This manifestation of himself God has made in the gospel of his Son. In that gospel, he makes the fullest and freest offers of pardon and favor, but it is through the blood of atonement. God became man and dwelt amongst us: he took upon himself our nature and the judicial sentence under which we lay on account of transgression. He showed the evil of sin and the power of justice by suffering, the just for the unjust. The infinity of Godhead gave weight and dignity unspeakable to the sacrifice. He showed a love unmeasured in that when the authority of the divine law required full satisfaction, he hesitated not to give himself a ransom for sinners. In this wondrous work, justice magnifies mercy, and mercy magnifies justice. The greatness of the sacrifice demonstrates the extent both of the divine abhorrence for sin and of the divine love for sinners. When we sin against this Savior or forget him, we must feel that it is the basest ingratitude. It is trampling on that blood that was shed for us. The gospel farther assures us that this same God is ever present with these same feelings towards us, with these same feelings towards sin—that he orders every event and appoints every duty—that he offers us his listening ear and his enabling Spirit in all difficulties—and that he points us to a rest beyond the grave where our resemblance to him shall be completed and his joy shall be ours.

    In this manifestation of the divine character, the attributes of justice and mercy form a combination so amiable and so resplendent that whilst our affections and esteem are chained to it, our very conception faints under it. We can here love perfect justice because we are not under its condemnation. We can here adore perfect mercy because it is unmixed with weakness or partiality. Sin, even in the abstract, is associated in our minds with sentiments of abhorrence as well as fear and holiness with sentiments of affection as well as hope.

    A growing resemblance to the character thus gloriously manifested is the necessary consequence of our love for it. This is a law of our nature. The leading objects of our thoughts and affections constitute the molds, as it were, into which our minds are cast and from which they derive their form and character. This fact ought to make us most watchful over the motions of our hearts for it is only by a constant contemplation of the true character of God and by cherishing and exercising those affections and desires which arise out of this contemplation that the divine image is renewed in our souls. We are not to expect any mechanical or extraneous impression separate from that which the truth makes for it is by the truth alone, known and believed, that the Holy Spirit operates in accomplishing that sanctifying work which is itself salvation. When the soul, therefore, leaving God chooses created things for its chief objects, these things become the molds which impart to it their own fleeting character and imprint on it their own superscription of vanity and death.

    When this connection between loving an object and resembling it is considered, we can have no difficulty in discerning why faith in the gospel history is required in order to salvation. We cannot love that which we do not believe, and we cannot resemble that which we do not love. Hence it is that faith becomes a matter of such vital consequence. It is the very foundation of the whole Christian character, the very root of the tree. If salvation had consisted simply in the removal of the judicial penalty denounced against sin—if this had been the sole scope of the work of Christ, it would have been unnecessary to have revealed the gospel history to men or to have required their belief of it because the atonement being made, their belief could neither add to it nor take from it. But when salvation is considered to express the renewed health of the soul and when heaven and hell are considered as the names of opposite characters necessarily connected by the very nature of things with certain happy or miserable consequences, and thus, when the revealed law of God is considered as explaining and declaring the particulars of a constitution which was originally mixed up with the elements of our being rather than as enacting a new one, then we see the importance of faith because it is the only medium through which the perfections of the divine character can possibly make any impression on our minds, and unless our minds be so impressed as to excite our love, we cannot become like God or, in other words, our spiritual health cannot be restored nor improved. We are not called upon to believe anything for the mere sake of believing it any more than we are called on to take a medicine for the mere sake of taking it. We are called on to believe the truth on account of the healing influence that it has upon the mind as we are called on to take a medicine on account of its influence on our bodily health.

    It follows from this that what is called doctrinal instruction when properly applied is really the most practical. No one would be considered as a practical physician who merely recommended his patients to be in good health and painted the advantages of a good appetite, of bodily ease and vigor, whilst at the same time he did not apply the remedies which might lead to these effects. So likewise, he is not a practical teacher of religion who contents himself with exhorting his hearers to be in spiritual health and to exhibit in their lives and conversations those Christian virtues which are the symptoms of spiritual health whilst he does not anxiously and constantly at the same time inculcate upon them that view of the divine character in Jesus Christ which contains in itself means of powerful operation to renew and purify the mind and which God himself has revealed as the appointed medicine for healing the diseases of the soul and restoring it to health and vigor. It is possible that a physician, either of souls or of bodies, may be so engrossed with the beauty of his theory that he may forget that application of it from which it derives its sole importance, but this error is not greater than the error of those who should dream of restoring health without the application of any means or by such as are contrary to the obvious principles of the science which they profess.

    Besides, although we can form a very accurate notion of what bodily health is, it is impossible for us to do this with regard to spiritual health without comprehending according to the measure of our capacities the state and character of that Eternal Mind who is the pattern as he is the source of all spiritual perfection. And this view cannot be taken without entering into and understanding the dealings of God with men in the mission of Jesus Christ which is represented in the Bible as by far the most striking and important manifestation of the divine character with which the world has been favored. So that it is a delusion to call upon men or direct them to acquire spiritual health unless at the same time the nature of this health is shown to them by delineating the purposes of the life and death of Him in whom alone we can find the brightness of the Father’s glory and the express image of his person.

    Neither mental nor bodily health can be gained without the use of the appropriate means. The means of bodily health are to be discovered by human experiment and science, but the means of spiritual health are contained in the gospel. Thus, the mercy of God in Christ and his holy abhorrence of sin manifested in perfect concord with mercy constitute the spiritual medicine, and the object and result of its application is salvation or healing.

    But, although this renewal of spiritual health in man be the great object of the gospel, yet in itself it affords no ground of confidence before God; that is, it is no foundation on which we can rest our hope for pardon or acceptance with him both because it is imperfect in itself and because, even if it were perfect, it could not atone for past transgression. The only confidence which it is calculated to give is analogous to that confidence which a man feels when he finds his bodily health improving by the use of a particular regimen: he is satisfied of the advantage of the system, and he perseveres in it with alacrity. The ground of our hope before God continues the same, and this ground is the sacrifice of Christ for the sins of the world. The mercy and the justice manifested in this fact are and continue forever to be the only food which can confirm and increase that spiritual health which they first gave. The moment that the soul begins to feed on any other food than this, the moment that it takes anything else for its chief joy, or hope, or confidence—that very moment the health of the soul declines, the disease of sin gathers strength, and disorders the whole frame of the soul; withdraws the affections and faculties from the pursuit of those things which are eternal and points them to passing shadows; relaxes all the energies of the spiritual life; displaces true joy, and hope, and peace, and substitutes in their room a joy that inebriates, and a hope that dies, and a peace that blindfolds, whilst it conducts to ruin. He who withdraws from the sacrifice of Christ and places confidence in the spiritual health to which he has already attained is like the man who would refuse his necessary food and dream of supporting his life out of that stock of life which he had already enjoyed.

    “My beloved brethren,” says the Apostle, “be ye steadfast, immoveable, always abounding in the work of the Lord, forasmuch as ye know, that your labour in the Lord is not in vain.” This work consists in living under an ever-present sense of what God hath done for sinners in the sacrifice of Jesus Christ. Faith means the conviction of the reality of things which we do not see. Now, in order that this conviction be of any use to us, it must be present with us. A man cannot be said to be under a conviction unless it is upon his mind. If a man is convinced that particular precautions are necessary for his health, he will take these precautions, but as soon as he forgets the necessity, his precautions vanish. Thus, forgetfulness comes often to the same thing as an opposite conviction. The belief of the morning, if it be confined to the morning, will do us no good through the day. He that believes is saved, not he who has believed. The sole object of Christian belief is to produce the Christian character, and unless this is done, nothing is done. Good bodily health has a value in itself independently of the good digestion and good nourishment which produced it; so also, spiritual health has a value in itself independently of the correct belief which produced it. In both cases, the effects are the objects of ultimate importance, but then they cannot exist without their causes, and when the causes cease to operate, the effects must also cease. To resemble God is the great matter, but we cannot resemble him without loving him, and we cannot love him in his true character without believing in his true character.

    T. E.

    Edinburgh, January 1825.

  • “I cannot believe that any human being can be beyond the reach of God’s grace and the sanctifying power of His Spirit”

    Note: This letter is also included in the “Additional Readings from Thomas Erskine” section of The Unconditional Freeness of the Gospel: In Three Essays. Annotated Edition.

    Undated letter to J. Craig, author of the pamphlet “The Final Salvation of All Men from Sin”

    Dear Sir,

    Your epistle on the “Final Salvation of All Men from Sin” has been put into my hands by a friend who knew that the principles contained in it are those with which I have long concurred and sympathized, and having read it, I cannot help reaching out to you a brotherly hand, and saying, God speed you! The title of your pamphlet has been, I think, well chosen. It is not a deliverance from punishment, but a deliverance from sin that you desire or expect. All punishment appointed by God, whether it be the natural result of sin or any superadded chastisement, is intended by Him “for our profit, that we may be partakers of His holiness”,1 so that a deliverance from punishment, instead of being a thing to be desired, would, in fact, be equivalent to the deliverance of a sick man from the necessary and wise prescription of a skillful physician. This is the revealed purpose of punishment—a purpose agreeing with the character of God and with the relation in which He stands to men. He is the “righteous Father”2— “the Father of the spirits of all flesh,”3 “who willeth not the death of a sinner, but that all should come to repentance.”4 Let uphold fast the purpose of God in all punishment,5 and remember that as it is the purpose of Him who changes not, but who is the same yesterday, to-day, and forever, it cannot be a purpose confined to any one stage of our being, but must extend over all the stages, and the whole duration of our being. It is surely most unreasonable to suppose that God should change His manner of dealing with us, as soon as we quit this world, and that if we have resisted up to that moment His gracious endeavors to teach us righteousness, He should at once abandon the purpose for which He created us and redeemed us, and give us over to the everlasting bondage of sin. Do we not feel that such a supposition is too horrible—that it is most dishonoring to Him who has said, “I will never leave thee, nor forsake thee,”6 and, “The mountains shall depart, and the hills be removed, but my kindness shall not depart from thee, neither shall the covenant of my peace be removed, saith the Lord that hath mercy on thee”?7

    This reasoning agrees with the argument presented to us in the 5th chapter of the Epistle to the Romans where the Apostle, in setting forth the fulness of the redemption by Christ, declares that the benefit through Him is in extent, parallel to the evil introduced by Adam, that is, that as the evil affects all without exception, so the blessing embraces all without exception. Let anyone read the 12th and 18th verses of that chapter as if in juxtaposition,8 which they really are by construction, and he will find himself constrained to admit that this and nothing less could have been the meaning of the writer. Indeed, through the whole chapter there is a preponderating advantage thrown into the scale of the redemption to the effect that not only were the evils of the fall met by the salvation of Christ, but that the gain far surpassed the loss, so that it is really contrary to sound criticism to hold that in that most marked and most remarkable passage where the comparative results of the fall and the restoration are expressly considered, any ground is allowed or given for a doubt as to the final salvation of the whole human race. The 11th chapter of that Epistle is pervaded by the same doctrine being a declaration that God’s election does not affect the truth and certainty of the final salvation of men but relates to the temporary use that He makes of individuals or nations to accomplish the ends of His government. I know well that most people in this country feel that all such arguments and expositions are met and overturned by the solemn words of our Lord in the 25th chapter Matthew, and by other passages of a like import. I feel, on the contrary, that the passages which I have quoted from the Epistle to the Romans ought really to be considered as the ruling passages on the question, and that those from St. Matthew and others of the same class should be explained by them and in accordance with them because in them the fall and the restoration are expressly compared with each other in their whole results, and the entire superiority claimed for the restoration in amount of benefit and entire equality in point of extent, all which would seem to me to be utterly nullified by the fact of a single human spirit being abandoned and consigned to a permanent state of sin and misery. I therefore understand that awful scene represented in St. Matthew as declaring the certainty of the connection between sin and misery, but not as a finality. I do not believe that anionios, the Greek word rendered “eternal” and “everlasting” by our translators, really has that meaning. I believe that it refers to man’s essential or spiritual state, and not to time, either finite or infinite. Eternal life is living in the love of God; eternal death is living in self, so that a man may be in eternal life or in eternal death for ten minutes as he changes from the one state to the other.

    There is no lack of arguments for the general view that I have taken of this subject drawn either from conscience or the Scriptures or both. There is one which cannot but have great weight with all who fairly consider it. Throughout even the Old Testament, God is more constantly presented to us as a Father than in any other character, and in the New, our Lord speaks of it as the chief purpose of His appearance in this world to reveal His Father as the Father of the whole human race. In both, frequent appeals are made to our sense of the love and desires and obligations of an earthly parent towards his children in order to impress on us the nature of the relation in which God stands to each one of us; and very frequently, these appeals are accompanied with the assurance that the love of the human parent is but a faint reflection of the love of the Heavenly Father. What can be more touching than the appeal in the prophet Isaiah? “Can a woman forget her sucking child, that she should not have compassion on the son of her womb? yea, they may forget, yet will not I forget thee.”9 The parallel passage in the New Testament is this: “If ye then, being evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Heavenly Father give!”10[2] But we all feel that the first and ever-during duty of a father is to endeavor to make his child righteous. A righteous father must always do this. The moment he ceases to do this, he ceases to be a righteous father. However, the son transgresses, we never feel that the father’s obligation to try to bring him back can be dissolved. And the righteous father’s heart goes along with his obligation. He could not give up his son although the whole world agreed that he had done all that could be done for him, and that it was useless to try any more. And shall we not reason confidently that the righteous Heavenly Father will do exceedingly abundantly above all that the righteous earthly father can either desire or effect? But does this desire for the righteousness of his child in the heart of the earthly father terminate with the child’s life? Although he is only the father of his body, does he not yearn after the soul of his son, who has been, perhaps, cut off suddenly in the midst of sin and thoughtlessness? He does indeed yearn after his soul and carries it on his heart a heavy burden mourning all his life long and wavering between hope and fear as to what his everlasting lot may be. The righteous earthly father being only the father of the child’s body feels thus and acts thus, and can we suppose that the Father of the spirits of all flesh will throw off His care for the souls of His children when they leave this world, because they have, during their stay here, resisted His efforts to make them righteous? The supposition seems monstrous and incredible, and in truth could not be acquiesced in by any human being were it not for certain false ideas concerning the justice or righteousness of God.

    I believe that love and righteousness and justice in God mean exactly the same thing, namely, a desire to bring His whole moral creation into a participation of His own character and His own blessedness. He has made us capable of this, and He will not cease from using the best means for accomplishing it in us all. When I think of God making a creature of such capacities, it seems to me almost blasphemous to suppose that He will throw it from Him into everlasting darkness because it has resisted His gracious purposes towards it for the natural period of human life. No; He who waited so long for the formation of a piece of old red sandstone will surely wait with much long-suffering for the perfecting of a human spirit. I have found myself helped in taking hold of this hope by understanding that God really made man that He might educate Him, not that He might try him. If we suppose man to be merely on his trial here, we more readily adopt the idea of a final judgment coming after the day of trial is over. But if we suppose man to be created, not to be tried, but to be educated, we cannot believe that the education is to terminate with this life, considering that there is so large a proportion of the human race who die in infancy, and that of those who survive that period there are so many who can scarcely be said to receive any education at all, and that so few— not one in a million—appear to benefit by their education. That, as there are great judgment days in this world, so there will be great judgment days in the other world, I have no doubt, but I believe that they are all subservient to the grand purpose of spiritual education. We are judged in order to be thereby educated. We are not educated that we may be judged. I believe that each individual human being has been created to fill a particular place in the great body of Jesus Christ, and that a special education is needed to fit each one for his place. Whilst we are ignorant of the destined place of each, it must of course be impossible for us to understand the wonderful variety of treatment through which the great Teacher is conducting all by a right way to the right end. But He knows and does what is best and wisest, and may there not be a necessity in some cases for treatment which can only be had on the other side of the grave? And shall we in our short-sightedness consider Him debarred from any such treatment?

    I cannot believe that any human being can be beyond the reach of God’s grace and the sanctifying power of His Spirit. And if all are within His reach, is it possible to suppose that He will allow any to remain unsanctified? Is not the love revealed in Jesus Christ a love unlimited, unbounded, which will not leave undone anything that love could desire? It was surely nothing other than the complete and universal triumph of that love that Paul was contemplating when he cried out, “Oh the depth of the riches both of the wisdom and knowledge of God!” (Romans 11:33.) Let me conclude now by saying that I am persuaded that this doctrine that you advocate is the only sufficient ground for an entire confidence in God, which shall at the same time be a righteous confidence. According to it, God created man that he might be a partaker in His own holiness as the only right and blessed state possible for him. If I truly apprehend this—if I truly apprehend that righteousness and blessedness are one and the same thing, and just the very thing I most need—I shall rejoice to know that God desires my righteousness, and if I further know that He will never cease to desire it and to insist upon it, and that all His dealings with me are for this one end, then I can have an entire confidence in Him as desiring for me the very thing I desire for myself. I shall feel that I am perfectly safe in His hand, that I could not be so safe in any other hand for that, as He desires the best thing for me, so He alone knows and can use the best means of accomplishing it in me. Thus, I can actually adopt the sentiment of the Psalmist, and say, “Thou art my strong habitation, whereunto I may continually resort. Thou hast given commandment to save me, for Thou art my rock and fortress.”11 And I can adopt these words without any feeling of self-trust, because my confidence has no back look to myself, but rests simply on God. The greatest sinner upon earth might at once adopt those words, if he only saw that righteousness was his true and only possible blessedness, and that God would never cease desiring this righteousness for him. I am fully persuaded that the real meaning of believing in Jesus Christ is believing in this eternal purpose of God, the purpose of making us living members of the body of His Son. And as this blessed faith helps me to love God and trust Him for myself, so it helps me to love my fellow creatures because it assures me that however debased and unlovable they may be at present, yet the time is coming when they shall all be living members of Christ’s body, partakers in the holiness and beauty and blessedness of their Lord.

    —I remain, dear sir, Yours truly, T. Erskine12


    1. Heb 12:10. ↩︎
    2. John 17:25. ↩︎
    3. Num 16:22; 27:16. ↩︎
    4. 2 Pet 3:9. ↩︎
    5. Even as a young Calvinist, Erskine did not see retributive justice as a necessary attribute of God. Shortly before he died, he wrote in a letter to John Young that the first text to set him on the road to this conclusion was Psalm 25:8. The Message captures what Erskine saw in this verse. Because “God is fair and just; He corrects the misdirected, Sends them in the right direction.” In Psalm 107, Erskine saw corroborating evidence that God only punishes out of love with the goal of restoring sinners to a right relationship with himself. ↩︎
    6. Heb 13:5. ↩︎
    7. Isa 54:10. ↩︎
    8. Romans 5:12— “Therefore, just as sin came into the world through one man, and death came through sin, and so death spread to all because all have sinned….” Verse 18 “Therefore just as one man’s trespass led to condemnation for all, so one man’s act of righteousness leads to justification and life for all” (NRSV). ↩︎
    9. Isa 49:15. ↩︎
    10. Matt 7:11. ↩︎
    11. Ps 73:1. ↩︎
    12. Hanna, Letters, 422–429. ↩︎
  • Introductory Essay to Richard Baxter’s 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘚𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘴’ 𝘌𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘙𝘦𝘴𝘵

    The Saints’ Everlasting Rest (1650) is a Puritan devotional classic that has gone through many printings over the years. Thomas Erskine was asked to write the introductory essay for the 1824 edition published as part of The Select Chrisian Authors series.

    Abstract:

    Thomas Erskine’s introductory essay to The Saints’ Everlasting Rest presents Richard Baxter as one of the great Puritan reformers whose deep seriousness, lived experience, and unwavering devotion shaped both his ministry and his writing. Erskine praises Baxter’s spiritual vigor while critiquing two tendencies: his overly detailed depictions of eternal punishment and his occasional blurring of the distinction between God’s free pardon and the believer’s subsequent pursuit of holiness. The essay unfolds into a wide theological meditation on the nature of divine law, the inwardness of true obedience, the fall of humanity, the necessity of God’s forgiving love to restore the heart, and the Christian life as continual dependence on God. Erskine concludes by emphasizing the believer’s longing for the final “rest” that perfects the partial joys of this life, urging readers to meditate on heaven as both a duty and a means of spiritual growth.

    We do not arrogate to ourselves so much as to suppose that our commendation can add anything to the authority of such a name as that of Richard Baxter. It is not to commend him, but to render our own series of practical divinity more complete that we introduce his Saints’ Everlasting Rest to our readers. He belonged to a class of men whose characters and genius, now universally venerated, seem to have been most peculiarly adapted by Divine Providence to the circumstances of their age and country. We do not speak only of those who partook in Baxter’s views of ecclesiastical polity, but of those who, under any name, maintained the cause of truth and liberty during the eventful period of the seventeenth century. They were made of the same firm stuff with the Wickliffs and the Luthers and the Knoxes and the Cranmers and the Latimers of a former age. They formed a distinguished division of the same glorious army of reformation. They encountered similar obstacles, and they were directed and supported and animated by the same spirit. They were the true and enlightened crusaders who with all the zeal and courage which conducted their chivalrous ancestors to the earthly Jerusalem fought their way to the heavenly city and rescuing by their sufferings and by their labors the key of knowledge from the unworthy hands in which it had long lain rusted and misused, generously left it as a rich inheritance to all coming generations. They speak with the solemn dignity of martyrs. They seem to feel the importance of their theme and the perpetual presence of Him who is the great subject of it. There are only two things which they seem to consider as realities—the favor of God and the enmity of God, and only two parties in the universe to choose between—the party of God and the party of his adversaries. Hence that heroic and noble tone which marks their lives and their writings. They had chosen their side, and they knew that it was worthy of all they could do or suffer for it.

    They were born in the midst of conflicts, civil and religious, and as they grew up, their ears heard no other sounds than those of defiance and controversy. Thus, life was to them in fact and reality that warfare, which is to many of us only its rhetorical emblem. To this is to be attributed that severity of rebuke and sternness of denunciation which we are sometimes almost sorry to meet within their expostulations. But they were obliged to speak loud in order to be heard in those troublous days. They were trained in the language of strife as their mother tongue, and they used that language even in delivering the message of peace. But they did deliver the message of peace. They declared the way of salvation, and they were highly honored and in vincibly supported by Him who sent them.

    The agitated state of surrounding circumstances gave them continual proof of the instability of all things temporal and inculcated on them the necessity of seeking a happiness which might be independent of external things. They thus practically learned the vanity and nothingness of life except in its relation to eternity, and they declared to their fellow creatures the mysteries of the kingdom of God with the tone of men who knew that the lightest word which they spoke outweighed in the balance of reason as well as of the sanctuary the value of all earth’s plans and politics and interests. They were upon high and firm ground. They stood in the midst of that tempestuous ocean secure on the Rock of Ages, and as they uttered to those around them their invitations or remonstrances or consolations, they thought not of the tastes but of the necessities of men—they thought only of the difference between being lost and being saved, and they cried aloud and spared not.

    There is no doubt a great variety of thought and feeling and expression to be met with in the theological writers of that class, but deep and solemn seriousness is the common character of them all. They seem to have felt much. Religion was not allowed to remain as an unused theory in their heads. They were forced to live on it as their food and to have recourse to it as their only strength and comfort. Hence their thoughts are never given as abstract views. They are always deeply impregnated with sentiment. Their style reminds us of the light which streams through the stained and storied windows of an ancient cathedral. It is not light merely, but light modified by the rich hues and the quaint forms and the various incidents of the pictured medium through which it passes. So, these venerable worthies do not give us merely ideas, but ideas colored by the deep affections of their own hearts. They do not merely give us truth, but truth in its historical application to the various struggles and difficulties and dejections of their strangely checkered lives. This gives a great interest to their writings. They are real men and not books that we are conversing with. And the peace and the strength and the hope which they describe are not the fictions of fancy but the positive and substantial effects of the knowledge of God on their own minds. They are thus not merely waymarks to direct our journeyings; they seem themselves pilgrims traveling on the same road and encouraging us to keep pace with them. In their books, they seem thus still to journey, still to combat, but O let us think of the bright reality—their contests are past, their labors are over; they have fought the good fight, and they are now at rest made perfect in Christ Jesus. They are joined to that cloud of witnesses of whom the world was not worthy, and their names are inscribed in the rolls of heaven, yet not for their own glory but for the glory of him who washed them from their sins in his own blood and whose strength was made perfect in their weakness.

    These were the great men of England, and to them under God is England indebted for much of that which is valuable in her public institutions and in the character of her people. They were, indeed, a noble army. They were born from above to be the combatants for truth. They were placed in the gap, and they held their ground or fell at their posts.

    In this army, Richard Baxter was a standard-bearer. He labored much as well in preaching as in writing and with an abundant blessing on both. He had all the high mental qualities of his class in perfection. His mind is inexhaustible and vigorous and vivacious to an extraordinary degree. He seizes irresistibly on the attention and carries it along with him, and we assuredly do not know any author who can be compared with him for the power with which he brings his reader directly face to face with death and judgment and eternity and compels him to look upon them and converse with them. He is himself most deeply serious, and the holy solemnity of his own soul seems to envelop the reader as with the air of a temple. But on such a subject, praise is superfluous as it is easy, and we shall rather beg the attention of our readers to some observations on his manner of stating divine truth and on the interesting subject of the work before us.

    In the first place, then, there is, perhaps, too little appearance of compassion and too much detail in his descriptions of the punishments after death. The general idea is all that is given in Scripture and even that is rarely insisted on except by our Lord himself as if such a fearful denunciation could only have its right effect when pronounced by the lips of him who is love itself. It is not to the statement of the doctrine that we object to but to the manner of doing it. Whatever men may think or feel on the subject, there can be no doubt that the doctrine does stand in Scripture, and assuredly it does not stand there in vain. We must leave the difficulties with God. The light of the last day will dispel all darkness. In the meantime, it must be stated but let it be stated in Scripture language. Let not man use his own words and far less his own fancy in describing the future punishments of the impenitent, and above all, let him not speak of them as one at ease, and let him not describe God as taking pleasure in the infliction. There can be no real advantage gained by agitating the imagination on such a subject. Even fear, to be useful, ought to have some calmness in it. And it ought to be remembered that men are not made Christians by terror but by love. It is the genial ray of the Sun of Righteousness and not the storm of the divine wrath which compels the sinner to lay down the weapons of his rebellion. The steady conviction that misery intolerable must be forever connected with rejecting the offered mercy of God is the true impression produced by the declarations of the Bible on this matter, and this is a much more efficient and practically useful principle than the terrors of an imagination worked up by a picture of the secrets of that prison house. Our gracious Master who suffered in our stead and whose deep and solemn and tender interests in our welfare could not be doubted, did, indeed, in his discourses always set before men life and death as the solemn alternatives of their choice; but in his mouth, it is still the language of affectionate, though urgent, persuasion, and he does not lift the veil except in the parable of the rich man and Lazarus nor terrify the fancy nor represent God as taking pleasure in the misery of his creatures. He does not even represent this punishment so much under the form of a positive infliction as of the natural result of the operation of evil principles on the soul. “Their worm dieth not, their fire is not quenched.” Whose? Their own—the worm and fire within them. Thus also, in other parts of Scripture, the state of the wicked is represented as the reaping of what they had sown, as eating of the fruit of their own way and being filled with their own devices (Gal. 6:7, 8; Prov. 3:31). And in Psalm 81 punishment is described thus, “Не gave them up to their own hearts’ lusts.” The compassion of God for the miseries which sinners bring upon themselves is also often strongly marked by the Bible. For example, in the tears shed by our Lord over the bloody city, in the divine tenderness exhibited through the whole course of that remarkable history contained in the book of Jonah, and in the duties of a watchman described in Ezekiel 33. “I have no pleasure, saith the Lord, in the death of him that dieth; wherefore turn ye and live.”1 The threatenings of God are all expressions of love. They are the descriptions of the misery of being strangers to God given for this very purpose that we may be persuaded to come into his family and to become fellow citizens with the saints and members of the household of faith. God seemed to say in these threatenings, “I cannot bear to lose you or that you should lose such happiness. Behold and see what you are rushing into—a soul at enmity with me must be miserable. Come then and be my friend, and my child.” Detailed and prolonged descriptions of future misery seem calculated to injure our view of the Divine character or to agitate the imagination or, like violent stimulants to the bodily constitution, to lose their effect and to deaden the sensibilities to calmer exhibitions of the truth.

    But there is another and a more important charge which has been brought against the writings of this great and good man. It is alleged that he does not always mark with sufficient clearness the distinction between the work of God and the work of man and that he even sometimes gives the idea that we are called on to work out our own pardon as well as our own salvation or spiritual healing. The close appeals which he so frequently makes to the consciences of his readers may perhaps in some degree have given rise to this accusation. A writer who presses so strongly as Baxter does the necessity of a change of heart and character in the Christian needs great caution and accuracy of language in order to avoid expressions which may seem to attribute too much in the work of salvation to human effort. Just as a writer whose great theme is the free grace of the gospel would need to be very much on his guard if he would avoid the charge of Antinomianism. The nature of the subject treated on in the book before us may also have assisted in giving this tone to his instructions. He connects pardon and everlasting rest so much together that he sees them and speaks of them as if they were one and the same thing. Now, though in truth they are parts of the same grand plan, yet the one is the commencement and the other is the consummation of the plan, and the language which is suited to the one is not always suited to the other. Pardon is the starting point of the Christian course. The saints’ rest is the goal. Pardon precedes the race; the saints’ rest crowns it. The pardon is universally and freely proclaimed to all without money and without price, without respect to character or condition as the recompense of the atoning sacrifice of Christ. To this pardon, man cannot add and from it he cannot detract, though he may bar himself from the benefit of it by refusing it admission into his heart. Whereas the saints’ rest is entirely dependent on character. It is, in fact, only another name for a character conformed to the will of God. It is, in a sense, the natural reward of diligence in the cultivation of those principles which are implanted by a belief of the pardon. Diligence, therefore, and exertion ought to be strenuously insisted on in pursuit of the saints’ rest; but we must beware of thinking such thoughts or using such language with regard to the pardon. By doing so, we shall obscure our views both of the love of God and of the evil of sin. Pardon is the medicine; the saints’ rest is the cure accomplished. It is salvation perfected. It is spiritual health. We ought not then to think of laboring for pardon for it is proclaimed as a thing already past and recorded in heaven, but we ought to labor for the saints’ rest for it is a thing future and depends on the perfection of principles which are perfected by labor. We ought not to labor for pardon for it is a medicine already prepared and freely bestowed by the great physician of souls, but we ought to labor for spiritual health in which the saints’ rest consists by continual application to the medicine and by using the Spirit and the strength which it supplies to support us amidst the events which befall us and the duties which we are called to fulfill.

    Now, though we are well persuaded that all the parts of divine truth are so linked together that if one part is taught to the soul by the Spirit of God, all the other parts will certainly follow and that, therefore, a partial obscurity or indistinctness of statement in the midst of much surrounding light and perspicuity and power may not materially impede the progress of a heart towards God, yet we do regret that a greater prominence is not given in Baxter’s Works to the doctrine of justification by faith because the peace of the mind and the stability of its hopes and the ardor and confidence of its love must depend on the degree of fulness with which it can look on God as a Father who has forgiven all its iniquities on a ground altogether independent of its own deserving.

    This doctrine is in truth the great center of the Christian system which gives to all the other parts their symmetry and just proportion. It, in fact, contains all the rest, and we only know them truly when we know them in relation to it. This doctrine it is which constitutes the grand difference between the religion of God and all the religions invented by men. Human systems always place pardon or the divine favor at the end of the race. They would remove condemnation by just making men cease from sinning. Whereas God makes men cease from sinning by first removing the condemnation. This is a stumbling-block to the world and its philosophers. They argue that as sin is the root from which the condemnation sprung, it would be more reasonable to lay the axe to it than merely to lop the bitter fruit that has sprung from it—and that it is unwise to enfeeble the motives of exertion by giving that in possession which ought to be reserved as the excitement and reward of diligence and obedience.

    But the difficulty lies not in the thing itself but in their ignorance of the signification of the terms employed. They do not know the meaning of sin or punishment or obedience or reward. They consider them merely as external things. If we wish a porter to go a mile for us, we make much surer of his going by promising him half a crown on his return than by paying him beforehand. But if we wish to gain the confidence and affection of a man who has prejudices against us, we must begin by substantially proving to him that he may rely on our friendship and services. Now God desires and requires our confidence and affection. Nothing short of this can satisfy Him. It is His great commandment that we should love him with all the faculties of our being, and without this love, the most punctual external conformity to His external commandments is a mere mockery and delusion. He is not obeyed by our going the mile but by our going it out of love to Him. He, therefore, begins not merely by holding out to us a future happiness, though he does that too, but by proving himself worthy of all our confidence and all our affection. Obedience then consists in active love. And this love can only proceed from a sense of God’s excellence and amiableness in general and of his favor in relation to ourselves. Without this belief in a higher or lower degree of his favorable regard towards ourselves, there may be a solemn and distant respect, but there can be no filial love and, therefore, no full obedience.

    We are persuaded that an erroneous view of the object of the ten commandments has misled many as to the nature and extent of religious duty in this respect particularly. It is true that the ten commandments were given by God’s voice from heaven, and it is also true that in the last of them, the Legislator claims to himself the sovereignty over the thoughts and intents of the heart as well as over the act of the hand or the word of the lip, but yet it is no less true that they contain rather a list of prohibitions and of the most prominent and overt acts of disobedience to the will of God than a declaration of what that will absolutely is. In human governments laws are considered as restraints upon natural liberty, and therefore, everything which is not forbidden by them is permitted. Thus, a man may, without being amenable to the law, hate the king as much as he pleases if he only avoids the commission of any of those acts which are by statute construed into high treason. It is certain that the ten commandments are very often interpreted in the same way. They are often supposed to permit that which they do not expressly prohibit. And on this subject, we are disposed to think that the error does not so much consist in the misinterpretation of the commandments as in mistaking the purpose for which they were given and in supposing that they were ever intended to convey a full and spiritual view of the duty of man to God. For it ought to be remembered that the ten commandments, besides being a religious rule, formed also a part of a code of civil jurisprudence. Jehovah was not only the God of Israel as well as of all the universe, he was also the political King of Israel, and the law of Moses not only gives a view of the Divine character but also contains the statutes of the state according to which property was determined, and offences were judged and punished. Religion binds the mind. The law of the land binds the body. God is the only judge of faithfulness or rebellion in the first. Man can judge of obedience or disobedience to the second. In the Jewish government these two principles were united—the spirit of religion breathes through the law and yet the acts prohibited are, with the single exception of the injunctions of the tenth commandment, such as the eye of man could judge of and such as required to be proved or disproved before their courts by the testimony of human witnesses. This union, however, did not change or materialize the essence of religion. An Israelite who kept the ten commandments to the letter was innocent and righteous in the eye of the law and of God considered as the political king of the nation, but he might keep them most strictly to the letter and yet stand under a heavy charge of guiltiness before God as the spiritual judge of man. This important distinction between the spiritual religion and the material letter of their law appears, however, to have been very generally overlooked by the Jews—they learned to limit their idea of sin to the mere perpetration of the prohibited overt acts of disobedience—they looked to God only as their temporal king, and they became blind to the embracing universality of his claims upon them as their Creator and Spiritual Judge. And the same error is often committed amongst ourselves without the same apology as the Jews had. There were positive miraculous blessings connected with external obedience under the theocracy which might naturally lead them to lay great stress on this outside righteousness. And God appeared to them as their national lawgiver and judge requiring this external obedience and expressing his approbation of it. But the temporal theocracy is no more. God reveals himself in the Gospel solely in his spiritual relation. And when we think of satisfying him by an external obedience, we do him dishonor, and we degrade his law down to a level with our own Acts of Parliament. The offences prohibited in the ten commandments may be considered as the top branches of that tree of revolt which grows naturally in the heart and brings forth corresponding fruit more or less in the life of every man unrenewed by the Spirit of God. But these branches may be lopped or checked and yet the strength of the poison may remain undiminished in the root and in the trunk. The true and full law of God is not only directed against this pernicious tree in its root as well as its branches, but it also requires that the soil should be occupied by another plant which may bring forth fruit to the glory of God. “Thou shalt love the Lord thy God, with all thy heart, and mind, and soul, and strength.”2 This is the universal and spiritual law of God, and it was given to the Jews, though it does not make a part of their judicial code. It is contained in that solemn and touching recapitulation of mercies and judgments and obligations and duties which Moses makes to the generation which had been either born or brought up in the wilderness a short time before his own death and their entrance into the land promised to their fathers. In this address, the spirit of the future dispensation breaks forth more distinctly than in that part which was strictly speaking their law.

    Judaism was throughout a type of Christianity. The wonderous history of the chosen people—their deliverance from Egypt—their wanderings through the desert—their miraculous support during their long pilgrimage—their separation from other nations—their settlement in Canaan—their visible theocracy were all material emblems of the spiritual kingdom of Christ and of the spiritual history of the children of God in their journey from this vale of sin and sorrow to the rest prepared for them. Even so, their law in all its parts, not merely in its ceremonial but even in its moral precepts, though it embraced and illustrated the principles of the succeeding dispensation, yet was in itself to a great degree, literal and material and external, and the law of the ten commandments bore to the spiritual law of love a relation somewhat analogous to that which the sacrifices of the tabernacle bore to the perfect atonement of Christ. Those who saw in the sacrifices no more than a ceremonial purification from external pollutions or a mode of deliverance from external evils would see no more in the ten commandments than a rule of external obedience. Whilst those who saw under that veil of rites a manifestation of the combined mercy and holiness which constitute the spiritual character of God in relation to sinners—those who saw under it the type of that great atonement on the ground of which the divine justice is even glorified in the pardon of the offenders, such Israelites would also discover the spiritual law of love under the ten commandments and would feel their hearts drawn to its observance. And, in like manner, those who had found out that heart love was the obedience which God required would not rest satisfied until they had also discovered the true meaning of the sacrifices. They would feel assured, that the same principle in the mind of God which prompted him to demand the hearts of his creatures would prompt him also to make such a discovery of his own character as would draw their hearts and make obedience easy and delightful. They would look for something else than mere authority to enforce such a command, and they would find it in the spiritual antitype of all these ceremonies. Christ came not to destroy the law and the prophets, but to fill them out. They were but sketches and cartoons. He came to fill up their shadowy outlines with all the substance of real action and all the rich coloring of spiritual affections. The ten commandments, taking into account the Christian modification of the fourth, are as binding now as ever they were because the duties contained in them spring out of the eternal relation between God and man, but the most exact adherence to their letter will not defend us from the charge of spiritual delinquency before the searcher of hearts.

    When the law of God comes to a man only in the shape of prohibitions, he is apt to consider it as a hard and severe thing and to count his own uneasy submission to it an act of price and merit. He has unwillingly abstained from some indulgence, and he lays up this price of self-denial in his treasury as something on which he may afterwards found a hope or a claim before God. But when the law makes a demand upon our heart, the matter is changed entirely. In the first place, it is evident that he who makes the demand is himself full of affection towards us for what but love could make him desire possession of our hearts? And, in the next place, the idea of merit is altogether thrown out because who is it that can say that he has loved with all his heart? And besides, the very thought of forming to ourselves a claim destroys the fulness of the obedience as it taints the freedom and generosity of love.

    A prohibitory law allows a man to think that he has fulfilled duty and even that he has done certain things beyond the requirements of duty or, in other words, supererogatory. But the law of love sets duty, like the horizon, always before us at the utmost extent of vision for love urges to do all that we can do and then thinks all too little.

    If the law of God could be truly obeyed by mere self-denial and exertion, then pardon or the expression of divine favor might properly have been reserved and held out as the ultimate reward of diligence. But if the heart is positively required, and if love be the obedience demanded as well as the heaven promised by the Bible, then we must have something to enforce it more cogent than either a command or the expectation of a reward. And this we have in the gift of Christ, which is both the pledge of pardon and the proof of love.

    It may appear to some that the argument which has been stated is not of much importance in these Christian days as they are called. But the error which it combats is not confined to any country or to any age. Men still desire to change the spiritual heart-searching God into a temporal king who judges only by the outward act and who is satisfied with pious forms and social integrity. It is this error which has to a great degree unchristianized even the form and profession of the Church of Rome and which, more or less, unchristianizes the religion of Protestants. We may call it Judaism, or we may call it popery, but it is the error of the human heart more openly professed indeed by some than others but prevalent universally under various shapes and names until rooted out by the Spirit of the living God.

    It is the knowledge of duty which gives us the knowledge of sin. And a knowledge of the true nature of these two things makes the gospel absolutely necessary to the heart. Sin is the transgression of the first and great commandment—it is a departure of the heart from God. And why does the heart depart from God? Is he not good; is he not gracious; is he not worthy of our highest love and gratitude and confidence? Yes, no one denies this. How then does it come to pass that the heart departs from God? The explanation is that our affections are bound to God only whilst the view of his love and his excellency is present to the mind. Had the tempter dared to assail Adam whilst he was walking with God in the garden and drinking in life and light from his communion with him can we doubt what the result would have been? God is light and walks in light—a light pure and unapproachable by evil, and when Adam walked with him, he also was surrounded by that light and was defended by it as by a shield. It is in the absence of the sun that the glow worm and the ignis fatuus are seen, and it is in the absence of the light of the divine presence that the things of sense and of time assume a false splendor and like the wandering fires of nature lure men to destruction. He who walks in the day stumbles not for he has the light of this world. He sees things as they are. He is not exposed to the delusion of false appearances. He can distinguish between the beaten road and the morays. He walks confidently and safely for it is light which leads him. It is the property of light to make manifest, and the more elevated the kind and the degree of the light is, the greater will be the perfection and the truth of the manifestation. What then must the perfection and truth of that manifestation be which is made by the spiritual presence of the Father of lights, and how great must be the security and confidence of those who walk in it.

    In this light Adam walked during the happy days of innocence. And whilst he thus looked on the excellence and the beauty of God, he was irresistibly attracted to him, and he could not sin for the law of love was written on his heart.

    The presence of God was thus the source and the security as well as the reward of his continued love and obedience. But he went out from the presence of God—he ceased to contemplate God—and the light of the divine perfections faded from his spiritual vision. In this season of absence or forgetfulness, love abated (for love lives by contemplating what is excellent), the tempter came and Adam fell. Ah! wherefore did he leave that blessed light which was a glory and a defense—which would have scared away the powers of darkness, and guided his steps and kept him from falling? Verily, it is an evil and bitter thing to depart from God. What was his condition now? Alas, how changed! Instead of walking with God as a friend, he dreaded and shunned him as an enemy. His backslidings reproved him, and his own conscience became the dreadful executioner of that sentence which excluded him from the family and favor of God. As he had refused to walk in the light, he was shutout from the light—he had chosen a lie, and he received it for his portion—he had disregarded the smile of Jehovah, and now he could think only of his frown.

    Thus, not only did sin become its own punishment, but this punishment became a fruitful source of further sin. It was the contemplation of the excellency and a sense of the paternal favor of God which produced and expanded the principles of holy love and obedience in the heart of Adam. The cessation of this contemplation and the forgetfulness of this paternal favor were the very causes of his fall, and now these causes are fixed upon him—they become the very circumstances of his existence. He cannot contemplate God for he feels himself banished from His presence—he cannot enjoy the sense of his paternal favor for condemnation has been pronounced against him.

    Adam’s perfection had flowed from and consisted in this that his affections were powerfully and permanently attracted by the contemplation of the holy love and kindness of God. When this attraction ceased, his perfections ceased. What then must the consequence have been when the divine love and favor were changed into displeasure? Evidently repulsion instead of attraction. It is the smile and not the frown—it is the favor and not the condemnation of God which shows forth love, but it is only His frown and His condemnation which the convicted and unpardoned rebel contemplates—and thus the estrangement of his heart becomes more and more confirmed—darkness is his guide, and it leads him to thoughts and deeds of darkness. These thoughts and deeds he feels call for a further condemnation, and the fear of this removes him still farther from God. There is no limit to this tremendous series but in the riches of divine grace. Perhaps the most overwhelming circumstance in the miserable condition supposed is that even the remaining good of the heart opposes our return to God. All our remaining sense of the excellency of holiness and all the loathing and condemnation of our own pollution which we may yet feel makes us shun the divine presence. The knowledge and approbation of what is right without some view of forgiving love can do little more in the heart of a weak and sinful creature than record and repeat the sentence of condemnation against itself and teach it that any misery is to be preferred to that of looking in the face of an offended God.

    Is there not then a true philosophy in that system which would make men cease from sinning by removing the condemnation of sin? Is there not a true wisdom in that religion which would draw men from works of darkness by surrounding them again with heavenly light? And is there not a divine glory in that plan which would overcome evil by good—which would annihilate distance by annihilating fear—and which would expel enmity from the soul by satisfying it with the abundance of grace?

    The perfection of a creature does not consist in its own self-possessed powers but in the maintenance of its proper place in relation to its Creator, and the name of that place is Constant Dependence. This place can be held only by affectionate confidence, and this requires a constant sense of the favorable presence and protection of God. Men sometimes puzzle themselves by contrasting the moral strength attributed to Adam with the facility of his fall. But Adam’s strength is only another name for his love to God and that love depended entirely on the view which he took of His character in general and of His relation to himself in particular. Whilst he viewed Him as his omnipresent and ever-gracious Friend, he loved Him or, in other words, he was strong. When he lost this view from any cause, there would be a proportional diminution of his strength. And after his offence, when he viewed Him as his condemning Judge, his love would be changed into fear and estrangement, that is to say, his strength would become weakness.

    It must be so—it cannot be otherwise in the nature of things. Love is the obedience of the heart and that is the obedience which God requires. And this love in the heart of a hitherto sinless creature can only proceed from or be maintained by a sense and a continued sense of the holy complacency of God and in the heart of a sinful creature by a sense and a continued sense of the holy compassion of God. This going forth of the heart and the thought towards God is to the spiritual man what his locks were to the unshaven champion of Israel. It is the channel through which the omnipotent God communicates himself to his children. Whilst this channel continues unbroken and uninterrupted, all is safe. But when a created thing is permitted to interpose itself between the soul and the face of God, the charm is broken—the divine current ceases to flow in—he who before was strong becomes weak and those Philistines who had often fled before him now put out his eyes and make him grind in their prison.

    “Abide in me” says the Head of the redeemed family, “and I will abide in you.” Thus, shall ye bring forth much fruit and thus shall ye “ask what ye will, and it shall be done unto you.” To this object, therefore, ought Christian effort mainly to be directed for here the Christian’s strength lies and here only. Here only he finds an object which will satisfy and sanctify every faculty of his being. His moral sense, his affections, and his desire of happiness are here filled and captivated. How different this from the effort of the world’s morality! The world’s morality, even in its highest strain, is mere self-denial and a painful struggle against nature. It is, however, a noble struggle. And, assuredly, when we look at those who unaided by the light of revelation have trod this uphill path and who by the strong effort of an upright will have quelled the passions and feelings which rebel against truth and reason, we cannot but admire them and little do we envy those who can refuse them this tribute. But though it is a noble spectacle, it is yet a melancholy one. It is an unequal warfare. The citadel is betrayed; the heart is in the hands of the enemy. The conqueror is unhappy even in his victory for what has he achieved? He has not really overcome his antagonists. He has only prevented their eruption. He has imprisoned them in their own favorite residence—his inmost heart where they feed on his very vitals. On the Christian system, the case begins at the heart, and the moral progress is a healthy progress of the whole man and not a temporary submission of one part of the mind to another.

    There is no self-denial in the character of God. It is his delight to do that which is good. Neither would there be any self-denial in our virtue if we perfectly loved God because that love would find its highest gratification in a conformity to the will of God. But how are we to grow in this love? How is our holiness to be purged from self-denial? No otherwise than by abiding in the view of God as revealed in Jesus Christ. This rule differs only in words from the apostolic precept, “Pray without ceasing.” It embraces the whole armor of God and gives peace as well as security. The heart must be directed towards God, the Father of mercies, and then, even in this prison, although we may still feel our fetters, our locks will begin to grow like Samson’s and however we may groan under the burden of life and remaining corruption, yet shall we like him also triumph at our death and be made more than conquerors through him that loved us.

    For it is not till after death that we are to expect unmixed happiness. Our moralists need not be apprehensive that Christianity, by the greatness of his present gifts, extinguishes hope for the future. There is something kept in reserve to animate exertion and to reward perseverance. The gospel does not expend all its treasures in this life. Great indeed, and unspeakable are the blessings which it bestows even here, but they are not given without alloy—they serve but as foretastes to excite our longings for the joy set before us. The Gospel teaches us to deny ungodliness and worldly lusts. And it teaches this only by directing our thoughts not only back to the cross  and to the pardon which was there sealed and around us to that mercy which continually embraces those who trust in the cross, but also forwards to the blessed hope of the Savior’s appearing and to the rest which remains for the people of God. Yes, every sin is full of sorrow and every day on earth is full of sin. Man also “is born to trouble, as the sparks fly upward.”3 And although the believer does feed on angels’ food, and although the blessed Spirit does comfort his heart by the disclosures of that love which passes understanding, yet is he often made to feel the length of the way and the barrenness of the land. And often does his evil heart of unbelief grieve that Comforter and tempt him to depart. He feels that he daily wounds the love that bled for him and that is bitter even in the midst of forgiveness. He also sees God dishonored and his law trampled on by is fellow creatures. And thus, he is taught that this is not his rest and that he has no abiding city here. These things made the Psalmist say, “Oh that I had wings like a dove, for then would I flee away and be at rest,”4 They drew from Jeremiah that plaintive cry, “Oh that I had, in the wilderness a lodging place of wayfaring men; that I might leave my people and go from them.”5 And they even forced Elijah, a man destined to enter heaven by another gate than that of death to request for himself that he might die. Now all these men had much enjoyment of God in this world as we read in other parts of their history, but the vast disproportion between their enjoyment of Him here and their expected enjoyment of Him in the other world made them as well as the saints under a clearer dispensation feel and confess that presence in the body is absence from the Lord.

    And yet future glory is not desired by a Christian as an entirely new and hitherto unknown thing but as the full accomplishment of a blessedness already begun though too much impeded here by corruption within and sorrow without. Christianity was not an entirely new thing to pious Jews, but yet its light so far excelled that of their introductory dispensation as to make it appear but darkness in the comparison. They saw it afar off, but the prospect was so dim that Isaiah calls it, “that which eye had not seen nor ear heard, nor the heart of man conceived”.6 Even so we may say of Christian joy as we must confess of Christian character in this life that it has no glory by reason of the glory that excels. We can place no limits to that future glory but in the will of Him whose goodness and power are equally unlimited.

    That family which God hath adopted in Christ Jesus for their spiritual good He has subjected in this world as He did the Captain of their salvation to affliction. They are, however, supported under it by the assurance that as they are joint heirs with Christ in suffering, they shall be so also with him in glory. The anticipation of that glory is a characteristic feature of the family. Whilst they remain on earth, their eyes are fixed on it, and their earnest expectation waits for its perfect development in the full manifestation of their privileges as the sons of God. As the Gospel was the same in kind from the first promise of the woman’s seed in Eden until the day of Christ’s ascension from mount Olivet and only varied in the degree and clearness of its revelation, so also the character and joy formed upon it and by it must be the same in kind forever and will only vary in the degree of its development. This accounts for the same name being sometimes given to different stages in the process. Thus, in one place we are told that believers have already received the charter of adoption in that revelation which addresses them as children and authorizes them to speak of God as their Father. And, at the distance of a few verses, these same believers are described as waiting for the adoption, viz. the redemption of their body. The resurrection is here called the adoption because it is the concluding step in the process of adoption; it is that act of omnipotent mercy by which the last trace of condemnation shall be obliterated—by which this mortal shall be clothed with immortality and this corruptible with incorruption. There is but one joy and one adoption, but they contain the principle of infinite expansion and enlargement. The light of revelation enables us to trace their progress till the morning of the resurrection when the risen saints shall sit down with Christ upon his throne, and there it leaves them, hid in the future eternity.

    Then their joy shall be full, they shall ever be with the Lord—they shall be made pillars in His temple and go no more out. But still the principle of progress will be in action. The joy which fills them will expand their capacity of enjoyment, and their increasing capacity will be filled with an increasing joy. Their joy will increase because their powers and capacities of comprehending and loving God will increase, but still the great object itself, the source of all their joy, remains eternally the same the character of God revealed in Christ Jesus.

    It is sweet to look forward to the restitution of all things—to think of a world where God is entirely glorified and entirely loved and entirely obeyed—where sin and sorrow are no more—where severed friends shall meet never again to part—where the body shall not weigh down the spirit but shall be its fit medium of communication with all the glorious inhabitants and scenery of heaven—where no discordant tones or jarring feelings shall interrupt or mar the harmony of that universal song which shall burst from every heart and every tongue to Him who sitteth upon the throne and to the Lamb. And it is not only sweet but most profitable to meditate on these prospects. It is a most healthful exercise. It brings the soul into contact with that society to which it properly belongs and for which it was created.

    The world thinks that these heavenly musings must unqualify the mind for present exertion. But this is a mistake arising from an ignorance of the nature of heaven. The happiness of heaven consists in the perfection of those principles which lead to the discharge of duty, and therefore, the contemplation of it must increase our sense of the importance of duty. That happiness as has been already observed is not entirely a future thing but rather the completion of a present process in which every duty bears an important part. The character and the happiness of heaven, like the light and heat of the sun beams, are so connected that it is impossible to separate them, and the natural and instinctive desire of the one is thus necessarily linked to the desire of the other. Full of peace as the prospect of heaven is, there is no indolent relinquishment of duty connected with the contemplation of it for heaven is full of action. Its repose is like the repose of nature—the repose of planets in their orbits. It is a rest from all controversy with God—from all opposition to his will. His servants serve Him. Farewell, vain world! no rest hast thou to offer which can compare with this. The night is far spent; soon will that day dawn, and the shadows flee away.

    The Saints’ Everlasting Rest was written on a bed of sickness. It contains those thoughts and feelings which occupied and fortified and animated the author as he stood on the brink of eternity. The examples of heavenly meditation which he gives really breathe of heaven, and the importance of such meditation as a duty and as a means of spiritual growth is admirably set forth and most powerfully enforced. And is it not a most pernicious madness and stupidity to neglect this duty? Is it not strange that such prospects should excite so little interest? Is it not strange that the uncertainty of the duration of life, and the certainty of its sorrows do not compel men to seek refuge in that inheritance which is incorruptible, undefiled, and which fads not away? Is it not strange that the offers of friendship and intimate relationship which God is continually holding out to us should be slighted, even in competition with the society of those whom we cannot but despise and reprobate? Is it not strange that we should, day after day, allow ourselves to be duped by the same false promises of happiness which have disappointed us just as often as they have been trusted? O let us be persuaded that there is no rest in created things. No; there is no rest, except in Him who made us. Who is the man that can say he has found rest elsewhere? No man says it. May God open our hearts as well as our understandings to see the that we may practically know the insufficiency and hollowness and insecurity of all earthly hopes and that we may be led in simplicity and earnestness to seek and so to find our rest in Himself.

    T E.

    Edinburgh. February 1824


    1. Ezek 33:11. ↩︎
    2. Mark 12:30. ↩︎
    3. Job 5:7. ↩︎
    4. Psa 55:6. ↩︎
    5. Jer 9:2. ↩︎
    6. Isa 64:4; 1 Cor 2:9. ↩︎
  • Introductory Essay to 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘞𝘰𝘳𝘬𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘙𝘦𝘷. 𝘑𝘰𝘩𝘯 𝘎𝘢𝘮𝘣𝘰𝘭𝘥 (1822)

    Abstract:

    Thomas Erskine’s introductory essay to the works of John Gambold argues that true moral and spiritual transformation arises not from exhortation or self‑effort but from the “circumstances” God reveals in the gospel—namely, the free, unconditional joy of reconciliation with God through Christ. Erskine contrasts human inability to control the circumstances that shape character with God’s unique power to alter the deepest “relation” of a person—their standing before their Creator—and insists that only the joy of believing in God’s pardoning love can produce willing obedience and holiness. He presents Gambold as a vivid example: a man who abandoned fruitless moral striving when he discovered the Moravian message of Christ as complete wisdom, righteousness, and sanctification, and whose writings radiate the childlike joy and spiritual realism that flow from this faith. The essay ultimately commends Gambold’s works not for literary merit alone but for their capacity to bring eternal realities into living contact with the soul and to awaken the joy that renews character.

    It has long been received as a maxim amongst those who have studied politics in connection with the philosophy of human nature that the surest and shortest way of making men good subjects and good citizens is to make them happy subjects and happy citizens. When we say that a man is happy as a subject, or as a citizen, or as a member of any society, we feel that we are just saying, in other words, that he is attached to the government, or state, or society under or in which he lives, and that he is, of course, disposed to fulfil the duties connected with these relations. It is a maxim founded on the instincts of man, and however it may be neglected in practice, it has too much obvious truth in it to be often controverted in the abstract. Some speculative philanthropists have given this maxim a more splendid and imposing form. They say, “Surround a man with circumstances and you make of him what you please. Command his circumstances, and you command his character.” This proposition has not met with so favorable a reception as the other, although it is probably intended to convey precisely the same idea, namely, that a man’s character depends on or is molded by events and facts external to himself. Indeed, it is impossible to make a man happy in any relation without commanding his circumstances in some degree—and so those who admit the first proposition are bound in reason to admit the second. Perhaps the equivocal use of the word circumstances may have occasioned some part of the coldness with which it has been received. But certainly, the chief part is to be ascribed to the unmasked openness with which it comes forward. It assumes a postulate which can never be granted, namely, that it is in the power of man to command circumstances to an indefinite extent. Men may flatter themselves that they can make each other happy in general, but when they are brought to particulars, they know and acknowledge that their power is very limited, that they cannot a vert pain, or death, or remorse. We are in the habit of calling a man’s visible relations, and especially his fortune, health, and family circle exclusively his circumstances and as we have many proofs that these circumstances in their most prosperous state cannot ensure happiness, we think ourselves entitled to deny it of all circumstances. But everything which comes in contact with a man’s feeling or thought, everything which occasions joy or sorrow, hope or fear, love or hate may come properly under the denomination of circumstances. In truth, every feeling arises from some circumstance or cause in contact with us and yet external to us, and we know neither happiness nor misery except from circumstances. It is no exaggeration then to say that if we could command the circumstances of a man, we could also command his happiness and his character. But of whom can it be said without exaggeration that he really can command the circumstances of any sensitive and intelligent and immortal being? The relations of human existence are numerous and to each of these relations belong its peculiar circumstances. Men are fathers, brothers, husbands, sons, friends, masters, servants, rulers and subjects. They are connected by blood, by business, and by mutual interest and there are many supposable circumstances in these relations capable of producing much joy or much sorrow. Who can command these circumstances? Moreover, men are creatures accountable to their Creator. This is the grand and permanent relation. All other relations cease with our life and even with the lives of others. A man ceases to be a father when he dies himself or when all his children are dead—he ceases to be a husband when his wife is dead—but he cannot cease to be a creature whilst his existence continues in any mode or form whatever. Who can command the circumstances of this relation? Who is it that can surround the spirit of a man with the light of the divine countenance? and make this light an abiding and a continual circumstance accompanying him through life and bringing into near and distinct vision the undisturbed, unfading, and increasing glories of eternity? Who is he that can remove from a mind convinced of its rebellion against God and of the justice and awfulness of his displeasure who can remove from such a mind the fearful looking for of judgment? Besides, this great relation is not only permanent, it is also the root and the regulator of all the rest. Who placed us in these various passing relations? Our Creator. And our relation to him it is which binds us to fulfil the duties of these relations faithfully.

    Of these inferior relations, some are more important to our happiness than others. Thus, a man’s peace is not so much destroyed by having a worthless servant or by meeting with a reverse of fortune as by having a wicked son or a false friend. Whilst the circumstances belonging to the more important relations of life continue favorable, adverse ones in the less important can be easily supported. But one unfavorable circumstance in the closer and nearer relations will often cast its own dark shadow over a uniform prosperity in all the lower relations. We find that this is the case in the temporary relations of this world, and it is so also in the first and highest relation. A man can generally escape from what is painful in this world’s relations. He can leave his country and whatever it contains if he does not like it, or if he cannot do this, he knows that a few years must free him from oppressive rule, from bad health, from unkind friends, and from all other evils peculiar to this life. The thought of a near deliverance is a powerful mitigator of affliction. There are many hours too, in which he may withdraw himself from his circumstances of sorrow, and then he may have some repose. But if the circumstances of his chief relation, his state before God, be favorable, then, even in the midst of the most overwhelming of this world’s calamities, he is an enviable man. There may be and will be, in spite of occasional eclipses, a deep substantial peace within him, the reflected image of the Sun of Righteousness. He does not look on passing events as the channels of joy or sorrow but as the indications of his gracious Father’s will calling him to the exercise of faith and love, those holy principles in the perfection of which consists the perfection of happiness, he hath a refuge which the world sees not and into it he flees and is safe. He can even rejoice in tribulations whilst he thinks of “the man of sorrows” and of the exceeding and eternal weight of glory, which is wrought out by these light afflictions, which are but for a moment, he looks forward to the glorious morning of the eternal sabbath, and he feels that he is free and happy forever.

    But if the circumstances of this highest relation be wrong, all is wrong. They may be wrong and often are without being felt to be so. There are many who have not set down their relation to God in the list of their relations, who have never regarded his favor or displeasure as circumstances of their condition and who have never looked into eternity as their own vast, untried dwelling-place, destined to be either their heaven or their hell. And yet this is the chief relation and these are the chief circumstances of their being. The very root of the moral existence of such persons is dead. Their circumstances are, in truth, most deplorable and their insensibility to pain from them arises from palsy, not from health. But in some, just so much animation remains that these mighty circumstances are felt to be unfavorable, and then they blacken existence and convert it into anguish. They poison every other relation and paralyze action in every other duty. Escape is impracticable. The only remedy lies in having these circumstances altered. But who can command these circumstances? Can man command them? A man who is happy as a father, or a friend, or a citizen will be found to fulfil the duties of those relations better than another equally conscientious who is unhappy in these relations—because the one will act cheerfully and from the heart, whilst the other acts from the less lively principle of a sense of propriety. And where there is no conscientiousness on either side, the man who is happy in those relations will fulfil the duties arising out of them, naturally so to speak, whilst the unhappy man will as naturally neglect them. Happiness in one leading relation will often cast its own cheerful glow on the less pleasing circumstances of lower relations and fill out the concomitant duties with its own life and vigor.

    Of what immense moment then must it be to have the circumstances of our highest relation, that in which we stand to our Creator favorable and happy! This would be purifying the fountain and all the streams would be pure. This would be healing the root and all the branches would be good fruit. But we must again return to that most important and critical interrogation, who can command these circumstances? Who can give a man happiness in the full view of all his relations?

    There is nothing absurd in saying, “Command the circumstances of a man, and you command his character,” but there is a strange absurdity in supposing that any power short of omnipotence can command these circumstances because the chief of our relations is that in which we stand towards him who is omnipotent. God alone can command these circumstances: no one but God has authority to say that our offences and failures in that relation are forgiven—that a full satisfaction has been made on our behalf to the broken laws of the universal government—that the gates of the family of God are thrown open to us and that we are invited every moment to speak to him as to a Father and lean upon him as on an almighty and faithful and tender friend—and that the unending duration to which we are advancing is safe and peaceful, full of bliss and full of glory. The circumstances of that highest relation have been most particularly and fully made known to us in the Bible that we might have happiness, even the joy of the Lord, which, if really attained by us, will supply strength for the cheerful, and affectionate and diligent performance of every duty springing from every relation in life and will be our comfort and hiding place in every sorrow.

    It has often struck us as a very remarkable fact that principles which are generally recognized as most reasonable and true when applied to the affairs of this life should be instantly rejected as unreasonable and contemptible when applied to the great concerns of eternity. We can easily suppose the smile of scorn with which a political philosopher would look upon us if in reply to his question, “What is the best way of leading back a nation of rebels to obedience to lawful authority and of engaging them again in the peaceful duties of civil life?” We should return this answer, “Why, the best way is to inculcate upon them the duty of submission, to explain to them the particulars in which that duty consists, and to enforce upon their minds the guilt and the danger of revolt.” He would probably give us to understand that we knew nothing about the matter, and he would have very good reason to do so. But is it not strange that if we asked him, “What is the best way of making careless sinful men good subjects of the King of heaven?” he should almost to a certainty give us an answer if he thought the question deserved one at all in all respects similar to that very reply which he had so deservedly scouted when made by us to his political problem. He would tell us, “Oh you must explain their duties to them and press them on their observance.” Suppose then that we were just to turn the tables on him and ask him to answer his own question and to allow us to answer ours. The answers would be very much alike except in so far as the revolt against human authority had arisen from misgovernment. He would say, “All unnecessary causes of irritation must be removed, a full and unconditional amnesty must be proclaimed, pledges must be given which may destroy all possible suspicion of the sincerity of the government, perfect security and safety must be immediately guaranteed, and subsequent promotion in the state ascertained to them in proportion to their qualifications.” We might then say to him, “Take away the first clause of your answer, (for there is no unnecessary cause of irritation under God’s government), and the remainder may stand for ours. We could particularize, if you wished it, the nature of that amnesty which God has proclaimed, and we could tell of the unutterable pledge of his sincerity which he has given, even the Son of his love, but your political scheme contains the outline of the Christian dispensation, and your rejection of the latter, whilst you defend and preach the former, ought at least to make you suspect that you are not quite so candid a philosopher as you think yourself or that at least you have made a wrong comparative estimate of the importance of the different relations in which you are placed, having excluded that one from the contemplation of your reason which certainly claimed more than all others the fulness of its powers.” It is most probable too that the free and unconditional, and all-including amnesty which he considers the wisest, and best, and most unassailable position in his political scheme becomes the marked object of his severe moral censure when it meets him in the Christian plan under the name of free grace. In the real business of life (as he would term it), he fully and intelligently recognizes the principle that the character of a man is molded by his circumstances, and, therefore, when he designs to affect the character, he turns his skill and his power towards the circumstances which may influence it. He sees plainly within this field that the true and right fulfillment of the duties belonging to any relation in life is best secured by happiness in that relation. But as soon as his mind is called to another field of contemplation—as soon as eternity is substituted for time and the divine authority for this world’s rulers, although human beings still continue the subjects to be influenced and operated on—his wisdom seems to forsake him, he rejects measures which in all analogous cases he admires and proposes expedients which he would blush to mention in any other case. There is evidently a most undeniable truth in what the Bible says of the disinclination of the natural man to receive the things of the spirit. There is nothing astonishing in his rejecting the humiliating fact that he is deservedly under a sentence of condemnation which would forever exclude him from the light and favor of heaven—nor can we wonder that he should hesitate about receiving the fully developed history of that love which surpasses knowledge—but we may well wonder that he does not perceive that it is happiness and happiness derived from known circumstances in this highest relation as in all other relations which can alone produce a full and cheerful performance of the duties arising out of it—we may well wonder that he who apprehends so thoroughly the uselessness and inefficiency of mere precepts and delineations of duty in the political, and civil, and social relations of life when unsupported by circumstances in those relations, understood and felt as constraining motives of action should yet exclude from his religious system everything living and moving and exciting, all circumstances in the relation of the creature to the Creator which might lead to happiness and so animate performance whilst he retains only the moral aphorisms and exhortations which are chiefly intended as the descriptions of the feelings and character which a belief of the revealed circumstances would produce and which can never by any process of inculcation reproduce themselves in minds constructed like ours.

    The cheerful and willing obedience which flows from an affectionate heart is the only service acceptable to him whose name is love and whose law is the law of liberty. And can this be without joy? What draws the affection of the heart? Something amiable, something which pleases and produces delight. So, joy is at the very spring of love and alacrity and without joy there is nothing graceful, or noble, or free in action.

    Do we wish, then, to perform fully the duties belonging to our various relations? Then joy must be infused into the circumstances of those relations. But how is this to be done? Who can command the gifts of fortune or nature? Who can stay the approach of sickness or death? Aye, and what are we to do for the other world? Will the joy of these temporary relations, supposing that we obtain it, carry us forward in healthy and cheerful action through another state of being? Let us be wise in this inquiry and beware of wasting our time and our strength in vain attempts. Joy, infused into the circumstances of any passing relation, perishes when that relation perishes. But there is a permanent relation, and it also is the root from which all other relations grow. Oh, how desirable to have joy infused here that it might, like living sap, circulate through the whole tree of human relations and bring forth much fruit on every branch! And praised be our God who hath shed forth joy abundantly on the circumstances of this relation, even joy unutterable and full of glory. He hath drawn aside the veil and hath let in upon us the light of his own eternal blessedness. He hath done more. He hath said, “Come up hither.” He hath changed our scene and our circumstances from earth to heaven—he hath given us a place in the upper sanctuary—he hath surrounded us with the privileges of his children—he hath joined us to the general assembly and church of the first born whose names fill the bright and happy rolls of heaven, yea he hath united us to himself.

    But it may be said, “Are the circumstances of this high relation contained in a revelation made to sinners in general or to certain individuals in particular for surely there are but few who seem to be happy with God?” The revelation is to sinners in general, but the things contained in it are the circumstances of those only who believe in it. You do not command the circumstances of a blind man when you surround him with visible objects. They are not his circumstances for they do not come in contact with his thought or feeling. In like manner, the blessings of the gospel are not the circumstances of a man who does not believe the gospel—for they do not come in contact with his thought or feeling. No man can rejoice in that which he does not believe, and it is by peace and joy in believing that the character is purified and sanctified and made meet for the inheritance of the saints in light.

    God has, in his revealed word surrounded us with circumstances of peace and glory when we deserved to be surrounded with circumstances of terror and despair. Our hearts have departed from God and chosen things which he abhors. We think little of him and feel little about him and regard not his honor and desire none of his ways. And yet we are his creatures and, as such, are bound to obey him at the peril of our happiness forever. He hath pronounced a sentence of condemnation against every sin—every departure of the will or of the affections from him. Who is there that has not incurred this sentence? And yet, oh! who could bear its infliction? None need bear it but those who refuse the message of mercy. “God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish but have everlasting life.” The divine and human natures were united in the person of Christ—he became our representative—he suffered the sentence which had been pronounced against us—Jehovah was well pleased for his righteousness’ sake, for thus the law was magnified and made honorable. The work of atonement was declared complete by the resurrection of the surety, and pardon and acceptance and eternal life were proclaimed to be the free gift of God through the Saviour’s name to the chief of sinners. Joy must be the immediate result of believing that guilt and danger and condemnation are done away, that eternity is secure and happy and that the almighty master of our destiny, the Judge whom we have offended is our gracious father and our kind and compassionate friend. Hath God then revealed to us circumstances of joy in our eternal relation with himself and shall we refuse to drink, yea, to drink abundantly of these waters of gladness that our hearts may be refreshed and filled with a holy alacrity to run in the way of all his commandments? Somewho profess to believe the gospel do yet refuse to drink of these waters because, alas! they have hewn out to themselves in the passing relations of life cisterns which one day they will find to be broken cisterns that can hold no water.

    But some there are of spiritual minds and humble hearts who refuse to drink because they think themselves unworthy. “Let the advanced Christian rejoice” say they, “but it would be presumptuous in such polluted sinners as we are to rejoice.” Ought not a polluted sinner to rejoice that he is forgiven? and farther, it is this holy grateful joy which God has appointed as the means of cleansing and renewing your nature. “Incline your ear and come unto me,” saith the Lord, “hear and your soul shall live: and I will make an everlasting covenant with you, even the sure mercies of David” “Happy are the people that know the joyful sound.” If you were called on to rejoice in yourselves, you might wait till you were better, and long you would have to wait, but when you are called on to rejoice in Christ, why should you wait? He and his salvation continue always the same, and the greater sinner you are, so much the greater and the more joyful is your deliverance. What made the shepherds rejoice? What made the Ethiopian eunuch and the Philippian jailor rejoice? Nothing in themselves, surely. No, it was the exhilarating intelligence that sin was pardoned, that peace was restored between the Holy One who sitteth on the throne of heaven, and the rebellious outcasts of this earth. This is the joy which must lead the way if we hope to make advances in the Christian course. There is another joy to be sure, but it never leads the way it is not called the joy of the Lord—it consists in the consciousness that the work of God’s Spirit is going on in our souls and that our hearts have, amidst many sins, been faithful to him who loved us. The way to obtain this latter joy is to abound in the former.

    We know no author who has illustrated the origin and tendency of the joy of the Lord so simply, so beautifully, or so strikingly as John Gambold, the author of the following productions. His mind was evidently of a very fine order. In his youth, he had mixed philosophical mysticism and theology together. He had formed an elevated and pure and holy idea of perfect goodness he felt his obligation to attain to it—he attempted it long—and at last sunk under the mortifying and heart chilling conviction that he was only adding sin to sin without advancing a single step towards his high object. Whilst he was in this melancholy condition, it pleased God that he should meet with one of the Moravian brethren who declared to him the simple gospel “that Christ is made of God unto us wisdom, and justification, and sanctification, and redemption,” that the only atonement that ever could be made for sin was already made and accepted, that we neither could take away our guilt by any scheme of our own nor was it necessary for Christ’s blood had done it and that now we are called on and invited as blood-bought and well-beloved children to follow him who had so loved us, to keep near to him as the fountain of our life and happiness, and to testify our gratitude to him by obeying his commandments.

    Pardon is proclaimed through the blood of Christ and sanctification is the fruit of faith in that pardon. Mr. Gambold gave up his laborious and unsuccessful efforts, and he walked by faith, in humble and peaceful holiness, rejoicing in him who is the strength of his people. The simple, child-like joy for sin blotted out did for his soul what all his efforts, and sincere efforts they were, could never accomplish. This joy is his great theme. But we cannot rejoice by endeavoring to rejoice, any more than we can love by endeavoring to love. It is by keeping the glorious and blessed circumstances of our relation to God before our mind that we shall feel and continue to feel a natural and unforced joy which will produce a natural and unforced walk in the way of God’s commandments.

    But what is the guard against the abuse of this doctrine? Let us look for it in the nature of Christian joy and in its object. Christian joy is not a mere joy for deliverance from misery. It is joy for a deliverance effected by the atonement of Jesus Christ. This joy, therefore, has respect to the procuring cause of the deliverance as well as to the deliverance itself. In the work of redemption are embodied all the divine attributes in perfect harmony. Joy becomes thus associated in the mind of the believer with each of these attributes, and it is this same joy which transcribes them on his heart. The object of the gospel and of the joy arising from a faith in the gospel is to conform us to the will and likeness of God. The law is thus the guard against the abuse or misinterpretation of the gospel. The law represents the character of God and of perfect happiness. and the gospel was given to associate that character with joy and thus to write the law upon our hearts. If, then, we believe and rejoice and yet do not grow in obedience to the law of God, we may be assured that it is not the true gospel which we are believing nor true Christian joy which we are feeling. We must turn to the cross and to the word which reveals the cross and to the Spirit who alone can shine upon the word. Let us not be jealous of joy but only let us be careful that it is “joy in the Lord.” Joy is the first fruit of the gospel of Christ and if we believe and yet do not rejoice, we may be assured that we have either added to the gospel or taken something from it—it is not the very gospel of Christ that we believe. This joy may consist with much sorrow as it did in the case of those first teachers who were sorrowful yet always rejoicing. It takes away the poison from sorrow and leaves only its tenderness. The exhortation to rejoice in the Lord was not so often repeated without good cause. If this glorious joy once filled our hearts, it would leave no room for sorrow or for those poor joys which, in their fading produce sorrow or for the base and turbulent and perplexing anxieties, passions, and appetites which for the most part fill up the life of man. If the soul saw itself ever surrounded by the light of that love which shone so bright on Calvary—if it saw every event and duty in life illuminated by that love—if the eternal world were ever present to it as its own home and as the place where redeeming love is the very element of life, where unmixed blessedness reigns, where the tie which unites the Father of spirits to his children is felt in all its ecstatic endearment, and where the whole happy family are continually advancing in their Father’s likewise without fear of change and without the possibility of falling—0 how buoyant would its spirits be! How freely, how boldly, how nobly, and yet how humbly and tenderly would it pass along the course of its existence! In every action it would feel itself a commissioned agent of heaven; it would know that it is called to fulfill purposes which it will require an eternity to unfold; it would have no will of its own but would act or suffer according to the will of God, looking up to his Fatherly face and rejoicing in his benignant smile.

    The mind of Mr. Gambold was evidently deeply affected with these views. The first of the two Sermons which are contained in this volume was preached at a time when the free grace of the gospel was not much known in England and never did any uninspired Sermon give a plainer or a sweeter exhibition of it. The Drama describes Christianity during the first ages. The Author’s familiar acquaintance with the fathers enabled him to put much life and truth into the picture. Did we consider it our business to speak of the merits of this Drama as a poetical work, we could praise it highly. The reader of taste and discernment will discover much in it which proves the very uncommon powers of the Author, and which would not have disgraced the first writers in our language. I may instance the last speeches in the dialogue between the two Deacons in the opening scene—the exhortations of Ignatius before leaving Antioch—and the whole concluding scene of the Drama. There are, perhaps, other parts which may strike Christians more as, for example, the scene in which the conversion of the Soldier is described, and beautiful most assuredly it is. We remember at present only one passage in Shakespeare which is directly and unequivocally Christian and that occurs in Measure for Measure in the scene between Isabella and Angelo. She is persuading him to pardon her brother, and she says,

    All the souls that were, were forfeit once;

    And He that might the vantage best have took,

    Found out the remedy: How would you be,

    If He, which is the top of judgment, should

    But judge you as you are? O think on that;

    And mercy then will breathe within your lips,

    Like man new made.

    This is certainly in the good, though not in the highest style of the first genius that probably the world has ever seen, and yet there are many passages in Ignatius not inferior to it. There is to be sure a degree of stiffness and formality about the piece, but all of that which is disagreeable wears off upon acquaintance, and what remains rather accords with the unworldly character of the persons represented and so adds to the general truth and interest. His second Sermon, on “Religious Reverence,” though not equal throughout, contains some striking thoughts couched in most powerful phraseology. There is a remarkable expression of devotedness in his first Hymn and a most sweet and refined loveliness in the poem entitled “The Mystery of Life.”

    It is impossible to read his works without being convinced that he enjoyed much communion with God and was much conversant with heavenly things and that hence he had imbibed much of the spirit and caught much of the tone of the glorified church above. There is a strong reality in his writings, and, oh, it is the great matter after all to have the things of eternity brought into sensible contact with our minds as present substantial circumstances producing immediate feeling and action and not allowed most fatally and foolishly to be mere subjects for conversation or texts for speculative discussion. If these things be present with us as real circumstances, they will be the sources of real joy, of real confidence for eternity, and of real consistency of conduct whilst we are in this world. Plain unsophisticated minds are the fittest recipients of Christian truth. They have been accustomed to dealing with realities, and thus the facts of revelation, when admitted, naturally come to them and operate on them as realities. On the other hand, metaphysicians and poets are very apt to convert the gospel into an ingenious argument and a beautiful dream. We must become as little children and learn Christianity not as judges but as those who are to be judged by it. Let us follow this servant of God as he followed Christ. He was long bewildered in his search after happiness and holiness; at last, he found them in the cross. Leaning on this, he walked in peace and godliness whilst here and departed hence in the sure hope of glory. His mind was evidently of a high order—his turn of thought is powerful and original—his imagination is of a fine ethereal quality—and his expression vigorous and striking. But our business is not with human genius, but with Christian doctrine. We do not recommend this book for the passing pleasure which it may afford but for the permanent profit, which by the divine blessing may be derived from it. We recommend it as a perspicuous and serious illustration of divine truth, and our prayer is that the eyes of our minds and of the minds of all who read it may be opened by the Spirit of God to discern more and more our need of salvation and the fulness and preciousness of that salvation which is in Christ Jesus. “Now unto Him that is able to keep us from falling, and to present us faultless before the presence of his glory with exceeding joy, to the only wise God our Saviour, be glory and majesty, dominion and power, both now and ever. Amen”

    Τ. Ε.

    Edinburgh, July 1822

  • True and False Religion

    “True and False Religion” (1874) was originally published in 1830 as “An Introductory Essay” for the book Extracts of Letters to a Christian Friend by a Lady.

    Abstract:

    Thomas Erskine’s “True and False Religion” argues that the dominant form of religion—whether Protestant, Catholic, or non‑Christian—is essentially a refined selfishness in which people seek God only to secure pardon and safety, not because they love His character. Erskine contends that any religion that makes forgiveness conditional on faith, repentance, or moral effort inevitably drives the soul inward, producing fear, self‑righteousness, and rebellion rather than love. True religion, he insists, begins with the proclamation that God has already forgiven and reconciled the world through Christ, a finished act revealed in the cross and resurrection. Only when a person believes this personal, unconditional forgiveness does love for God arise, and only this love fulfills the law and transforms character. The essay therefore contrasts a false gospel that bases confidence on human qualities with the true gospel that rests entirely on God’s revealed character of holy love.

    The general idea that men have with regard to religion is that it consists in their believing something or doing something in order to obtain from God forgiveness of their sins and the enjoyment of security under his protection. They think that there is a forgiveness in God but that it comes forth only upon those who have a certain character, i.e. those who believe or do some particular things. The things to be believed or to be done may vary somewhat in the different modes and forms of religion, but this idea runs through them all that the object to be attained is a deliverance from penalties and an assurance of safety—and that the way of attaining it is by believing something or doing something. Now it is obvious that this is a system of pure selfishness and that the man who acts under its influence must in everything that he thinks or does be serving himself and seeking his own interest and that God is considered in it merely as a being whose power makes it a matter of primary importance to appease His resentment and obtain His favor. According to this religion, God is sought not for Himself but for His gifts—not because He is the God of holy love and therefore the fountain of life but because He is the dispenser of rewards and punishments. But the man who acts in a particular way in order to obtain heaven or to avoid hell is as thoroughly selfish (only on a larger scale) as the man who acts in a particular way to obtain a thousand pounds or to avoid the gallows. The one glorifies God just as much as the other—they are both evidently following their own interests. And as we should never dream of saying that he who was seeking to gain the thousand pounds or to avoid the gallows was acting for the sake of the person from whom he expected to get the money or of the judge who pronounced the sentence of the law, so it would be equally absurd to say that he who was seeking to obtain a pardon or to escape from hell was acting for the sake of God.

    He is not acting from love to God or from a desire to glorify God—he is seeking his own safety. It is not what God is but what he may get from God that he cares for. This is the religion of every natural man whether he be called a Protestant, or a Papist, or a Hindoo, or a Mahometan. It is man’s religion, and it is in fact nothing else than his natural selfishness acting in relation to the things of eternity, just as his principle of worldly conduct is selfishness acting in relation to the things of time. So long as the things of this world appear to be enough for happiness, he occupies himself in forming plans to secure his comfort in this world, and when he is constrained to think of the world beyond the tomb, and when he cannot shake from him the thoughts of death and the charges of conscience, he transfers his selfishness from time to eternity and forms his plans to secure, if possible, his safety and comfort in that untried and unending duration.

    His seriousness and earnestness in this religion do not change its character at all, it is a pure system of selfishness, and every step that he takes in it is just a further training and hardening in selfishness. His earnestness in it is the earnestness of a disinherited son who fawns upon his father for the sake of his estate. Selfishness is very earnest and very serious. A condemned criminal is very serious in using means to obtain a pardon. And when a man has at all realized that he is a sinner against that omnipotent Being in whose hand he is and from whose grasp he can never extricate himself and who, as he has brought him into existence, can sustain him in existence and uphold him even against his will in the capacity of endurance that he may suffer all that He pleases to inflict—when a man has at all realized such a situation as this, he cannot but be very earnest and serious in his endeavors to alter his circumstances and to appease the anger and obtain the favor of that powerful Being. But his earnestness is entirely selfish—he is not earnest in serving God but in averting a danger from himself—he is not earnest in glorifying God but in providing for his own interest. And in point of principle, although his thoughts may now be entirely occupied with God and eternity, there is in reality as little of true love to God and devotedness to His service, as little of the disinterested desire to please Him in his heart as there was when, as an avowed worldling, he thought of nothing but the gratification of his appetites or his ambition or his vanity. Every human being sees and feels the truth of this reasoning when applied to the case of the disinherited son fawning on his father for his estate—and the only reason why its truth is not equally acknowledged in its application to religion is just because this is the universal religion, and if a man were to admit that this religion is false, he would have to admit to himself that he has no true hope before God at all.

    But it is evident that until a man knows that God loves him and has forgiven him his sins, this must be his religion if he has any religion at all. For whilst he does not know himself actually to be forgiven, he must, in order to have any comfort of mind, either forget God altogether or he must be occupied with endeavors to obtain forgiveness. In the first case, there is an atheistical selfishness—and in the second, there is a religious selfishness. The second of these is certainly the preferable state of the two, but its superiority does not arise so much from what it is in itself as from its giving hope that the man once awakened will not rest there. For if his religion continues to be just an endeavor to obtain forgiveness, the selfishness of his heart must remain as unsubdued as in the state of the most confirmed worldliness. And if his religion continues to be of this kind, it really makes little difference what it is that he does in order to obtain forgiveness. One may build an hospital, another may undergo a penance, another may lead a sober and upright life, another may endeavor to do what he calls believing in Jesus Christ, but whilst the object is to obtain forgiveness, the whole acting of the man is a continued self-seeking—he is fawning on his father for his estate. He cannot love God—he cannot serve God for God’s sake but for his own private ends.

    And this selfishness is not a merely negative offense, it is a direct rebellion. For so long as a man is not sure that God loves him and has forgiven him, he cannot he satisfied with God as He is—he cannot but wish that he could change God and control His will—he would think himself safer in his own hands than in God’s. Now what is all this but wishing that he himself were God? What does it mean but that if he had power according to his will, he would wrest the scepter out of the hand of God? Thus, must be the state of every man until he knows that God loves him and has forgiven him. He cannot but wish that he had the choosing of his own lot for time and for eternity until he knows that he is in the hands of one who regards his interests at least as tenderly as he does himself. And he cannot in reason or in possibility believe this of God until he knows that his righteous condemnation is removed off from him and that He loves him freely. And thus, until he knows this, he is necessarily in heart a rebel against God, and the history of his existence is just a history of plans and arrangements to secure a happiness to himself independent of God and to guard himself from evils which he apprehends from God’s plan. He plans for his comfort in this world and for his safety in the next world as if he were in the hand of an unfriendly power.

    No one can doubt that it would be welcomed as good news by almost the whole human race if they were told, “that they might choose their own lot for time and for eternity.” And why would it be welcomed as good news but because they feel that they would be safer in their own hands than in God’s? Every man who feels in this way would be God if he could—and every man who does not know that his sins are forgiven must feel in this way; he must feel that he would be safer in his own hands than in God’s—and therefore he is in heart a rebel. There are probably very few who would directly avow such a wish as to usurp the throne of God or to control his will—there are probably very few who even in the secret of their own hearts are conscious of such a wish—for they know the fruitlessness of such a wish, and they fear the power of Him who searches the hearts, but it cannot be denied that every man who would feel himself to be safer in his own hands than in God’s must have the wish that he were in his own hands—and this is just wishing that he himself were God. And is it possible for a man who feels himself to be walking on the verge of eternity and who has apprehensions that this eternity may be an eternity of misery to him in consequence of the condemnation of God resting upon him, is it possible for him in such circumstances not to wish that he were in his own hands? He may know that he ought not to wish it, and he may make this answer, but it is not an answer to my question. There is a prodigious delusion contained in the answer, “we ought to submit to the will of God.” A man thinks that by acknowledging this to be a duty he has actually done the duty. But this is nothing—a religion which only teaches man his duty is of no value to man—the religion which he needs is one which contains a provision for converting the knowledge of duty into the acting of the will. A religion which does not provide for this is absolutely useless—and such is every religion which requires the submission of the heart without declaring that sin is forgiven. The duty may be admitted, but it is absolutely impossible that it can be complied with. For a man cannot submit in heart to God until he knows himself to be safe in God’s hands—and he cannot know himself to be safe in God’s hands until he knows himself to be forgiven.

    Thus it appears that every movement of man’s mind until he knows himself to be forgiven is in reality a movement of selfishness and rebellion—and therefore it necessarily follows that no religion can save a man from sin or put him in a condition to love God and serve God from love except a religion which reveals to him God’s love already bestowed and God’s forgiveness already past as the objects of his faith—and that every religion which does not declare forgiveness to be already past but teaches that it is to be attained by faith or prayer or repentance and which thus makes it an object of hope and not of faith—that every such religion must in the nature of things be false because its necessary tendency is not to produce love but selfishness and to train the mind in the very element of rebellion.

    There is another obvious effect of this false scheme of religion yet to be mentioned—and that is the self-righteousness which is necessarily connected with it. So long as it is received as truth that God’s forgiveness is bestowed only on those who possess some particular quality such as faith or repentance or sincerity—so long are men necessarily compelled to regard their possession of these qualities as the ground of their confidence before God. They may conceive that there is forgiveness in God through Jesus Christ sufficient for all men, and they may hold that there is no confidence to be placed in anything else, but whilst they believe that this forgiveness does not actually come out to any man until he possesses this quality of faith or repentance, they must necessarily have hope or fear before God just according as they consider themselves possessed of these qualities or not. It is easy to vary phrases, and it is easy for ingenious minds to deceive themselves by the use of phrases, but it is absolutely impossible in point of fact for anyone to believe that God’s condemnation rests upon all men until they have faith in the gospel and that that condemnation is removed as soon as they have faith in the gospel without at the same time regarding faith as the ground of his confidence before God. He is thus necessarily led to look inward for the ground of his confidence. His belief is that, if he can acquire faith, he will be pardoned —and thus his endeavor is to acquire faith and to ascertain that he has acquired it. He has not a very definite idea of what faith is, but he believes it to be a particular quality or character of the mind, which will prove its own existence by a certain course of conduct. In addition, therefore, to the endeavor to acquire faith, he also endeavors to follow this course of conduct that he may have an evidence that he possesses faith. In this way his thoughts are entirely drawn aside from the contemplation of God’s character as the foundation of his confidence and directed to his own character. It is not what God is but what he is himself that is of importance to him. For he must acquire faith, and he must ascertain that he has faith before he has confidence in God’s forgiveness —for none, according to this scheme, are forgiven except those who have faith. Many suppose that they escape from this error by representing the gospel as an offer of pardon to all men and by teaching that those who believe in the offer or who close with the offer receive the pardon. But this statement really denies that a man is pardoned until he believes. And thus, it throws his whole confidence on his having believed or his having closed with the offer. The offer of the gospel does not refer to the pardon but to the enjoyment of the pardon. This is an important distinction, A friend leaves me a legacy of a thousand pounds; if I believe the information, I have the enjoyment of it; if I do not believe it, I have not the enjoyment of it, but the fact remains unaffected by my belief or unbelief. If I am told “you are offered a legacy and you shall have it if you believe in it.” I should ask “what is it that I am to believe? Am I to make a fact by believing it? or am I to get the legacy as a reward for believing what is not true for it is not supposed to be mine until I believe in it.” There is a different form of words under which this same error appears, viz. the statement that there is in Christ a sufficiency of pardon and every good gift for all who believe and that all are commanded to trust in Christ in order that they may become partakers of that sufficiency. But if we are not already pardoned, our pardon must be conditional on our undergoing some change—and that change, whatever it may be, must, whilst unattained, be the object of our desire and when attained be the ground of our confidence. And thus, we are not resting on God’s character but on our own—we are leaving the fountain of living waters and hewing out broken cisterns which can hold no water.

    It is said of God in the Bible— “they that know thy name or character, will put their trust in thee.”1 That is to say, there is something in God which cannot be known without inspiring confidence. There is a ground of confidence in His very nature, which requires only to be known in order to give peace. The gospel is just a declaration of that something in God’s character or, in other words, it is a manifestation of that name of God which calls forth the confidence of the sinner for God’s name is his character. No man hath seen God at any time. No man could look into his heart to see a ground of confidence there. —But the only begotten Son, which was in the bosom of the Father, He hath declared Him. The bosom of God opened and the Son came forth to show us what the heart of the Father was. And what did he do? He made propitiation for the sins of the whole world; he tasted death for every man—he was made under the law and thus he put himself under the obligation of loving every man as he did himself—and had he failed in this, he would have been a breaker of the law—but he failed not—he loved every man and thus he proved that the Father loved every man for he declared the name or character of God in his whole being. And is it not a name to love? A name to trust in? Now the gospel is just the name of God as declared by Christ, and it is this, “God was in Christ reconciling the world unto himself, not imputing their trespasses unto them,” and they who know it cannot but trust in it without going farther. But according to man’s religion, God’s name is— “God is in Christ forgiving those who believe,” and they who know this name must know themselves to be believers before they can trust in it. It is not God’s name, but their own name of believers that they trust in. They are cast on themselves for confidence.

    This religion which regards pardon not as a thing already bestowed from which we are to advance to the service and the enjoyment of God but as an ultimate object in itself to be attained by faith, or prayer, or holiness, this is man’s religion whatever name it may take, and it rises out of the primary and radical sin of man’s nature. For man’s sin is that he has become his own center—that he seeks his own gratification as his chief object—that his thoughts meet in self and radiate from self—and therefore it is no wonder that when he frames to himself a religion, it should be such a one as consecrates this grand sin. And indeed, it does so for his religion is in fact just a bargain between God and man by which man seeks to secure his own interests. Man requires from God personal safety through eternity, and God requires from man certain sacrifices of inclination and restraints on the actings of his will along with certain observances and submissions as the price of his safety. And in this bargain, it is taken for granted that nothing could keep man to the fulfilment of his part of the agreement but the apprehension that the neglect of it might be attended with fatal consequences to his eternal well-being.

    My dear reader, I pray you to consider this seriously. Don’t you see that according to the religion which I have described as man’s religion, there is absolutely no provision made for a love towards God on the part of man at all? For whilst assurance of the pardon which it holds out is yet unattained, man necessarily strives to obtain it in the spirit of selfishness and rebellion—and when it is attained, which however is a very rare thing, it just becomes an object of selfish enjoyment for which the appointed price has been paid. Man never, according to this plan, can have any confidence in God—any confidence that he has, is in himself, because it arises from a consciousness that he has performed his part of the agreement, because it arises from a conviction that he has done that thing which draws forgiveness out of God and has thus made that forgiveness his own. And thus, man’s religion dishonors God, both in the attainment of its object and in the means which it employs for attaining it. It considers God merely as a power that can inflict injuries and bestow benefits. It does not consider him as in himself the Fountain of living waters. It does not make God’s character to be a matter of any importance. It does not consider him as a Father. It denies both his love and his holiness. —It tramples underfoot the Son of God, and all that is contained in his incarnation, and death, and resurrection. This I say is man’s religion, whether it assumes the name and uses the phrases of that religion which God has revealed, or takes any other name and uses any other phrases. And this I believe to be the prevalent religion of our land—taught from the pulpits and received by the people. I don’t speak of the worldly people but of the religious people. This may appear a harsh and presumptuous saying, but I feel it to be the kindest thing that I can say because I am persuaded that it is the truth.

    Is it not true that men are taught that God’s love and forgiveness and an interest in Christ are bestowed only on those who have a true faith and that a true faith must be evidenced by its fruits? And is it not the universal consequence of this that people are set to the business of acquiring a true faith, and what they conceive to be the fruits of faith, viz. repentance and holiness in order to obtain forgiveness? Is not this the business of the great mass of religious people in the land? Are they not just engaged in this business of seeking a pardon? And are they not encouraged in it and comforted in -it by being assured that they are in a right and safe state whilst so engaged? Now this is just that religion which I have been describing as man’s religion. The great body of the religious world are seeking a pardon and an interest in Christ as if Christ had left the work of redemption for them to finish and as if he had not put away condemnation by bearing it himself. —They are seeking a personal safety and not the glory of God—they are seeking a selfish object by self-righteous means—they are denying that Christ’s blood has put away sin, and they are endeavoring to put it away themselves by faith and prayers and fears and doubts—they are just saying who shall ascend for us into heaven to bring down the Saviour—or who shall descend into the deep to bring him up from the dead or how may we do it for ourselves?

    Alas! my fellow countrymen and my fellow sinners, you need not weary yourselves for very vanity. The Lamb of God hath taken away the sin of the world. He was delivered for our offences, i.e. because we had offended, and he was raised again for our justification, i.e, because we were pardoned.

    That I have given a faithful description of the general religion of the country, I am confident few who are acquainted with the religious people in it will deny. If you ask a serious man what his hope is before God, he will very probably answer, “I hope that there is a work of the Spirit in my heart—I hope that I am a believer, and if you then ask him, what it is that he believes, he will answer that Jesus Christ died for all that should believe in him.—If you say this is good news indeed for those who know themselves to be believers—are you sure that you are one? He will answer, I hope that I am a believer—ask him again, and what do you believe? He will answer as before that Christ died for believers—and so on in the circle. —And thus, it appears that the man’s hope is really founded on nothing at all but what he conceives to be the favorable state of his own mind. He has little or no confidence at all—and all that he has is in himself-in his own faith.

    This is the leprosy which has overspread the land. And whence does it proceed? It proceeds from the voice of the shepherds who tell the people that although the gospel is a proclamation of God’s love and of forgiveness of sins through Christ—yet that those only are loved and those only are forgiven who have faith in the gospel. I do not speak of the authorized standards of any church; I speak of the religion taught to the people. This is the fountainhead of the leprosy—and let the shepherds look to it and let the flocks look to it. This doctrine is the standing doctrine of the land, and it is nothing else than making the cross of Christ of none effect. It is a false gospel, which places the ground of confidence not in God but in the creature. It is a false gospel which mocks man with a semblance of good but gives him nothing. It makes the whole matter a peradventure. It takes the name of good news, yet it tells nothing which can give peace to a soul. I may believe it all and yet remain without peace. I may believe that Christ hath put away the sins of those who shall believe in him, but unless I know myself to be a believer, this can give me no peace. I may believe that there is an offer made to me of pardon, but unless I know that I have closed with that offer, I have no peace. I may believe that God loves and forgives the elect, but unless I know myself to be one of the elect, this belief can give me no peace. This false gospel promises me forgiveness if I believe in Christ. And if I ask, what is it to believe in Christ? I receive for answer, that it is to believe that Christ died for those who should believe in him. Why is not this moving in a circle? Is it not absolutely nothing? —Is it not a shifting sand which affords no rest to the wearied soul? Well, but they say that after we have believed this general truth, we have a right to assume our own interest in it. And why not at first? What is the use of making two steps instead of one? Just that man may have confidence in his own faith and thus may have all the glory—and that God may be robbed of his glory. Let the shepherds look to it—let them look to the state of their flocks, and whilst they do so, let them ponder that word, “If they had stood in my counsel, and caused my people to hear my words, then they should have turned them from their evil way, and from the evil of their doings” Jer. 23:22. And there is a word in that same chapter for the flocks which they also would do well to mark. They must judge of the doctrine which they hear by the standard of the word of God. It is no excuse for their receiving false doctrine, that they have heard it from their teachers—they are called on to “try the spirits, whether they be of God.”2 They will be judged by the Bible—and God says of the truth that it is easily discernible from falsehood for, “What is the chaff to the wheat, saith the Lord; is not my word like as a fire, saith the Lord, and like a hammer that breaketh the rock in pieces?”3 And let all look to that word-“Cursed is the man that trusteth in man, and whose heart departeth from the Lord.”4

    Now, just compare this false gospel with the true gospel. The true gospel is proclaimed in various forms through the Bible, thus— “All we like sheep had gone astray, we had turned every one to his own way, and the Lord hath laid on him the iniquity of us all.” Isaiah 53:6. And again, “he is the propitiation for the sins of the whole world.” I John 2:2. And again, “behold the Lamb of God, that taketh away the sin of the world.”5 And again, “God was in Christ, reconciling the world unto himself, not imputing unto them their trespasses.”6 The God of the Bible is a God who by the sacrifice of Christ has put away the sin of the world, of every individual in the world. This is the true God, and every other god is an idol. And, therefore, the gospel is the declaration to every creature that God loves him and has washed away his sins in the blood of the Lamb. Here is something for a man’s foot to stand on—it is not a message which applies to him on the condition of his being the possessor of any particular quality—it applies to him whatever quality he may have or whatever quality he may lack—it comes to him as a sinful child of Adam, and it comes to him as a truth from the God of truth—it declares to him something in God, which if it be true, is an immovable ground of confidence and rejoicing. This is the beginning of his confidence, and this it is which he is exhorted to hold steadfast unto the end. This is a confidence which gives all glory to God. It is a confidence which sets its seal to the last words of Jesus, “It is finished,”7 —and to the record of the Father— “that he hath given us eternal life in His Son.”8 It is a confidence which agrees with that word— “This is life eternal to know thee, the only true God, and Jesus Christ whom thou hast sent.”9 It is, moreover, a confidence which cannot be enjoyed away from God—for it is not founded on a mere declaration of pardon. It is a confidence resting on an act which declares the character of God and thus it cannot be enjoyed except in the contemplation of that character. It rests on an act by which God has condemned sin in the flesh, and, therefore, it cannot be enjoyed except in the recognition that sin is that evil thing which God hates and for which Christ died. It is thus a holy confidence—and through this confidence it is, that man glorifies God by entering into the conformity and enjoyment of His character.

    The questions at issue are nothing less than these—whether the true ground of a sinner’s confidence be in himself or in God. And whether the service to which God calls man be the loving and willing service of the heart or a mere external doing. And whether the true God be really that God who was in Christ, reconciling the world unto Himself, not imputing their trespasses unto them—or whether He be a God who either loves the elect alone or who is still imputing trespasses unto men until they believe in Jesus.

    I am anxious to press this because I am aware that many persons think that this controversy is a mere dispute about words, or at most, a contending for the superiority of one statement of truth over another. But this is a great mistake—it is not a dispute about words, nor about different views of the same truth—it is a dispute between two distinct and opposed religions, one of which must of course be false and must be holding forth as the object of worship an idol instead of the true God.

    A religion which does not declare sin already forgiven but which promises pardon as the consequence of believing something, or doing something or closing with an offer certainly places the ground of the sinner’s confidence in himself and not in God. And therefore, any confidence which can he attained under such a religion, must be a confidence in self and not in God. But confidence naturally gravitates to its own center, and it naturally clings to that and glories in that and seeks enjoyment in that on which it is founded—and so the soul which has confidence in self will cling to self, and glory in self and seek its enjoyment from self, and the soul which has confidence in God will cling to God, glory in God and seek its enjoyment from God. Now, as the only purpose of the pardon is just to put the sinful creature in the condition of clinging to God and glorifying and enjoying Him in His true character—so this its only purpose would be defeated if it depended on anything in the creature and if it did not exclusively and solely rise out of the character of God. If a soul does not know itself to be pardoned, it cannot look upon God’s character without distrust—and if, when it believes itself to be pardoned, it can trace its pardon to anything else than God’s character, it will not look into God’s character for its enjoyment—it will not regard God as the fountain of life.

    And therefore the pardon of the gospel arises simply out of the character of God as revealed in Christ, and it is declared to all without exception and independent altogether of their own characters that all men may be in a condition to regard God without distrust—and that all men may be shut in to glory in God alone and to seek their enjoyment in Him alone. If the pardon were not to all but were directed to any class or to the possessors of any quality, then God’s character could not be the source of man’s glorying nor joy. I know that those who have confidence because they have faith will defend themselves from the charge of trusting in anything of their own by saying that faith is the gift of God and the work of the Spirit, but this is no defense for, whatever faith may be, it is assuredly not God’s character and unless that character be the one ground of our confidence, we can never glory in it alone nor enjoy it alone. And therefore, Christ’s work is the only true ground of confidence because therein only the character of God is fully revealed.

    The whole of man’s character depends on what is the ground of his confidence. And therefore, it is that the establishment of the true ground of confidence is the great object of the true religion.

    The basis or very first principle of the character which Christianity requires is a confidence that we are personally interested10 in the love of God which gave Christ to the world, and in the sacrifice which Christ offered up for the sins of the world, and in the forgiveness which was manifested by the resurrection of Christ. And this confidence is founded on the fact that God has declared this as a truth to every human being. This is personal assurance, and I mean to say that the Christian character can be built on no other foundation than this personal assurance and that no man can obey the least of God’s commandments without it. Because the law is love—and we can only love by knowing ourselves loved and forgiven. The character which is produced by the hope of obtaining a forgiveness is quite different from the character which is produced by the knowledge of an undeserved forgiveness already past—for the one, character is selfishness and the other is love. And the religion which inculcates the one character is quite different from the religion which inculcates the other. And the God who requires the one character is quite different from the God who requires the other.

    If an external conduct were all that the law of God required, then a principle of selfishness might obey it, and a hope of obtaining pardon and of avoiding punishment might be a sufficient motive to operate on that selfishness: but if the law really requires love, then nothing short of a personal assurance of being loved and forgiven can be a sufficient motive for it is absolutely certain that no man can love God or look upon him otherwise than as an enemy until he knows that He has forgiven him his sins and loves him as a father for “we love God, because He first loved us.”11 Why then is the necessity of personal assurance so generally denied amongst us? Just because the general religion of our land is that the gospel does not tell any man that his sins are forgiven. Now if this be so, a man may believe the gospel without knowing that his sins are forgiven him; that is, without personal assurance, for faith cannot draw more out of the gospel than what is in it. And if he may believe the gospel without personal assurance, he may be saved without personal assurance for he that believeth the gospel is certainly saved. But if a man can be saved without a personal assurance that his sins are forgiven him, he may be saved without confidence in God, or love to God, or giving glory to God for he cannot have confidence in God, nor can he love God, nor give God glory until he knows that his sins are forgiven. Yet the very meaning of salvation is the having confidence in God, and loving God, and giving him glory for the fall of man consists in distrusting God, and being at enmity with God, and refusing Him glory.

    It may appear strange but it is nevertheless true that the carnal mind prefers this uncertain gospel which speaks only of a way of obtaining pardon to the true one which speaks of a pardon already past having been obtained through the blood of Christ. And the reason is that it does not lay such a weight of condemnation on man nor does it bring him directly face to face with God as the true gospel does. It does not charge him with the guilt of trampling on the love and blood of Christ for that love and that blood, according to it, are only set before him, they are not actually upon him—and it does not charge him with the guilt of making God a liar, although he continues to distrust God and thus to dishonor Him, for if God does not tell him that his sins are forgiven, he is not making God a liar by thinking that they are not forgiven. It tells him that God’s forgiveness is just within his reach and that he may have it by believing something (of which he has no definite idea, but which of itself can give him no comfort) and by using what are called the means of grace, that is, by praying and reading the Scriptures and repentance and amendment. And he has a sort of ease of mind in the thought that forgiveness is so near him and that as he is in the way of getting it by using the means of grace, he is doing his part and so cannot be in any great danger. And thus, he is not obliged to look for his confidence directly and solely into the mind and character of the living, and mighty, and holy God, who is ever present, but he may have a confidence out of God’s presence and thus he gains the power of enjoying self without fear of consequences. Whereas the true gospel which declares forgiveness through the sacrifice of Christ as an act already past, charges everyone who is not rejoicing in it with the guilt of making God a liar and condemns all peace which is not drawn from the perception of God’s character and thus gives no room for the enjoyment of self. For our pardon is written in the blood of Christ, and no copy can be taken of it; we must read it in the blood itself, in that very blood which condemns sin. And this characteristic of it, whilst it gives it its sanctifying virtue, makes it disquieting and burdensome to the carnal mind,

    This is of great importance. The very notion of a God as the root of all being and the source of all power involves the principle that happiness can only be enjoyed by those who are of one mind with Him. And therefore, the exhibition of His character must always be regarded as an exhibition of the only possible condition of true blessedness in the intelligent creature. And nothing surely can demonstrate so thoroughly the opposition of God’s character to all sin as this that in the very deed of pardon, in the very deed which shows the immensity of His tenderness and love towards the sinner, there should appear such an unrelenting and uncompromising abhorrence of sin. The pardon is the form in which God declares His character in relation to sinners. And that character is thus declared for the purpose of being infused into the hearts of those who hear of it and not for the purpose of leading any one to suppose such an absurdity as that he may live comfortably and safely in the very midst of a power which is the only power of the universe and the only root of being whilst he continues at direct variance with all the principles on which that power acts. The pardon of the gospel declares the bar removed which sin had reared between God and man and which prevented the previously existing love of God from flowing forth upon the creature, but no conceivable pardon could ever undo the necessary connection between misery in the creature and opposition to the will of the Creator. And besides this, there is also the condemnation at last for the rejection of the gospel and the penalty of the second death.

    But to return from this digression. It is certain that nothing stirs up the enmity of men more than the maintaining that personal assurance is necessary to salvation, and this is just because they have no personal assurance as indeed according to their religion they cannot have it, and yet they wish to think themselves safe and are irritated against any who would awaken misgivings in their minds about the state of their souls. They wish to think that there is some neutral ground on which they may stand safely between the entire ignorance that there is a Saviour at all and the knowledge that he is their Saviour who has taken away their sins. Now, they know that there is a Saviour, but they do not know that he has taken away their sins for they do not think that they have any warrant to believe this until they are conscious of possessing the fruits of the spirit. And here is their sad dilemma, for they never can possess these fruits until they have first believed that their sins are forgiven. And thus, the dislike to the doctrine of personal assurance flows necessarily from the prevalent religion of the land. Men are conscious that they do not possess the fruits of the spirit, and yet they hold that the conscious possession of these fruits is the only proper ground of personal assurance; if, therefore, they admitted that personal assurance is necessary to salvation, they would have to admit to themselves that they are not in a state of salvation. And they wish to think themselves safe, although they have not this assurance—and thus they willingly shut their eyes to their danger.

    Nevertheless, personal assurance is necessary to salvation—for personal assurance is nothing more or less than the faith of the Gospel. For the gospel is not a message which regards the mass of the world and overlooks the individuals. It does not tell of a love and a pardon which are for the whole but which yet demand an act on the part of each individual in order to warrant him in conceiving them his own. The gospel is a personal message from God to every man, for the commission was— “Go into all the world, and preach this Gospel to every creature,”12 i.e. tell each man it is for him. Whatever therefore is spoken in the gospel to the world is in fact specially addressed to every individual in the world. And thus “God’s love to the world,” and “Christ’s propitiation, for the sins of the whole world,” and God’s “not imputing their trespasses to the world,” are to be received by each individual as if they had been directly spoken to himself. In the gospel then, forgiveness of sins through Jesus Christ is declared to every man, and therefore, faith in the gospel is each man’s belief that his sins are forgiven through Jesus Christ’s finished work. He that does not believe this, does not believe the gospel—he is yet an unbeliever. And thus, personal assurance is not an advanced stage in the Christian life, it is the very first step out of unbelief. For a belief in the gospel and a belief that my sins are forgiven through Christ are one and the selfsame thing, for the gospel is that “Christ hath put away sin, by the offering of himself once for all.”13 And sin-offerings have now ceased simply because sins are remitted, for it is written, “where remission of these is, there is no more offering for sin.” Heb 10:18. If sins are not remitted, it can only be because the blood of Christ has not put away sin. But the gospel is just a declaration that the blood of Christ has put away sin, and therefore he who does not know that his sins are remitted does not believe the gospel. And a belief in Christ is just the same thing as a belief that sins are forgiven. For what is Christ? He is the gift of the Father’s love to the world, John 3:17. He is the Lamb of God that taketh away the sin of the world, John 1:29. He was a ransom for all, I Tim 2:6. Whoever therefore professes to believe in Christ and yet does not believe that his sins are forgiven is believing in a Christ different from the Christ of the Bible.

    And what is the meaning of the personal charge of guilt against every man on account of unbelief unless the gospel is a personal message of forgiveness to every man? For nothing surely can be imagined more unreasonable than to suppose that God calls on any man to believe in a message which does not relate to himself and condemns him for not believing in it.

    When the faith of individuals is spoken of in the Bible, it is spoken of as a personal thing. Thus, Paul says, “I live by the faith of the Son of God (and observe now what faith in the Son of God is) “who loved me and gave himself for me.” Then he adds, “I do not frustrate the grace of God”—evidently charging all those who do not 1ive by the faith of this same thing, with the sin of frustrating the grace of God. Faith in the Son of God, therefore, is a personal thing; it is each man’s believing that Jesus loved him and gave himself for him. No man believes in the Son of God who does not believe this; and every other form of belief frustrates the grace of God. Gal 2:20–21.

    Then again, the faith of the woman who washed the feet of Jesus in the house of Simon the leper was to this effect that “her many sins were forgiven her.” And it was this faith that saved her, Luke 7:47-50. And what was her salvation? Love—she loved much. Love is salvation, for it is the healing of the enmity of the heart—and love can be produced by nothing else than the knowledge of forgiving love in God. “Her sins which are many are forgiven, therefore (as the true meaning is), she loved much.” Her faith saved her, and no other faith could have saved her. She might have believed anything else about Jesus besides this, and she would have remained unsaved. The knowledge of the forgiveness of all the rest of the world could have done her no good—no belief but the belief of her own pardon could have saved her. Her many sins were forgiven—that was her faith. She loved much—that was her salvation.

    And the parable by which our Lord explained to Simon the reason of the warm affection with which he had been treated by the woman and of the coldness which he had experienced from himself, decidedly proves that faith in the gospel includes a belief of personal forgiveness and at the same time, proves that the gospel is the proclamation of a past forgiveness to every human being. “A certain creditor had two debtors; the one owed five hundred pence, and the other fifty; and when they had nothing to pay, he frankly forgave them both—tell me therefore, which would love him most.”14 In this parable, the woman and Simon are evidently represented by the two debtors: the one owing five hundred pence, and the other fifty. Not that the one really owed more than the other—for the terms in which our Lord speaks of the self-righteous Pharisees prove that he regarded them as on a level with the publicans and sinners; but that the one knew something of the greatness of the debt, and the other did not. In other respects, their circumstances were quite alike. They were both debtors—neither of them had anything to pay—and they were both frankly forgiven. Where then did the difference between them lie? Simply in their appreciation of the amount forgiven. Suppose that two men owed me a thousand pounds each—the one of whom knew the amount of his debt whilst the other thought that he only owed me a shilling—if upon its appearing that they had nothing to pay, I frankly forgave them both—it is quite evident that their feeling towards me would naturally be proportioned not to their real debt but to their appreciation of it. In order then to draw forth much love from a debtor to his creditor, two things are necessary, the one that he should know his debt to be great, the other that he should know that his great debt is forgiven. There can be no gratitude at all if the debt is not supposed to be forgiven—and that gratitude will be small if the debt is supposed to be small. If the creditor therefore wished to draw out the right gratitude of the debtor, he would, when he informed him that the debt was forgiven, send him along with his discharge an account of the sum discharged. Now this is just the message of the gospel; it not only declares sin forgiven, but it also declares it to be forgiven through the blood of Christ—and thus it tells at once that the debt is discharged and that the amount of that debt was so great that it required the blood of Christ to wash it away. Nothing can teach man the amount of the debt discharged except knowing the price that has been paid to discharge it, and thus, he never really knows the amount of his debt except by knowing his forgiveness, both because it is in the price paid that he sees God’s judgment of his debt and because he sees there also the greatness of that love against which he has offended.

    But the two debtors in the parable not only represent Simon and the woman, they represent also the two classes into which the whole human race is divided, those who know that they had incurred a great debt but that they were forgiven when they had nothing to pay and those who are not conscious of the amount of their debt, nor of their own bankruptcy, nor of their own forgiveness. God is the great creditor, and all men are His debtors, and when they had nothing to pay, He frankly forgave them all. So far, they are all on a footing. The difference between them arises from this that some believe what God has told them of their circumstances, and some believe not. The believers, or those who believe that their many sins are forgiven, love i.e. they are saved; the unbelievers, or those who believe not that their many sins are forgiven, do not love, i.e. they remain unsaved.

    The very essence of the truth taught in this parable is that all men are forgiven and that each man’s salvation arises out of the belief of his own personal condemnation having been removed by his own personal forgiveness, and this is taught in all its fulness by the blood of Christ, which hath both condemned sin in the flesh and put away sin.

    I do not see how any other interpretation can be given of this parable than that which I have given. It is quite evident that Jesus means by it to tell Simon that both he and the woman were equally forgiven when they had nothing to pay and that the difference of their love towards him arose from their different appreciations of their forgiveness. Now Simon was most assuredly an unbeliever—yet he was forgiven—and the woman became a believer just by believing that this Lamb of God had forgiven her sins and had come to pay his blood as their discharge.

    In Simon’s case, then, we have the proof that unbelievers are forgiven though they are not saved, and in the woman’s case, we have the proof, that forgiveness must precede belief, for it is the very thing believed and that salvation must follow belief for salvation is nothing else than the love which is produced by the knowledge of God’s forgiving love already bestowed.

    The woman’s faith was that her many sins were forgiven her, and it will not be denied that hers was saving faith. But surely it is the duty of everyone to have saving faith—that is to say, it is the duty of everyone to believe that his many sins have been washed out in the blood of the Lamb, and it could never be a duty to believe this unless it were true. And farther, no man can do the smallest act of obedience to God’s law until he believes this—for no man loves until he believes this—and whenever he forgets this, he becomes incapable of any obedience, for it is written, “He that lacks godliness, temperance, brotherly kindness, or charity—lacks them in consequence of his forgetting that he was purged from his old sins,” in consequence of his forgetting that the blood of Christ had washed away his sins, 2 Peter 1:9. These two passages in connection most distinctly teach that the only source of sanctification is the belief of personal forgiveness through the atonement of Christ. And this is in perfect accordance with the fact that sanctification is produced by the Spirit of Christ dwelling in the man—for that spirit is said to enter into the heart only after the heart is opened by this belief of Jesus. Thus: “this spake He of the Spirit, which they who believe on him should receive.” John 7:39. And again, “in whom also (i.e. in Jesus), after that ye believed, ye were sealed with that holy Spirit of promise.” Eph 1:13.

    I may add here also in confirmation of what has been said of the necessity of personal assurance that the exhortations to practical duties addressed in the epistles to Christians are all founded on their knowledge that their own sins were forgiven them; thus, “put on, therefore, as the elect of God, bowels of mercies, humbleness of mind—forbearing one another, and forgiving one another, even as Christ forgave you so also do ye.” Col 3:12, 13. And there is a similar exhortation in Eph 4:32, and 5:1, 2. It may be said but these were believers, and thus it does·not support the position that all are pardoned. But I am at present chiefly anxious to press this important truth that no man is a believer who does not know that his sins are forgiven. If this be granted—if it be granted that a belief of the gospel necessarily includes a belief that sin is forgiven, then it must be true that the gospel does tell each man that his sins are forgiven otherwise no man could know it by a belief of the gospel, for belief cannot draw more out of the gospel than is in it. If the information that my sins are forgiven me is not contained in the gospel, where am I to find it? Is it in my own character? That is the only other resource. But blessed be God, it is in the gospel—and this it is which makes the gospel indeed glad tidings, for it shows us the character of God manifested in an act which declares sin condemned and at the same time washed away. Any confidence away from this ground must arise either from a man’s conceiving himself to be possessed of some quality to which the gospel promises forgiveness—or else it must arise from his believing that a particular revelation has been made to himself. But the general gospel is a personal message to each individual. For if God so loved the world as to give His only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish but have everlasting life, then it is evident that the only reason why each individual has not everlasting life is just because each individual does not believe in this love of God in giving His Son for him. The whole world are in the condition of the two debtors—that is to say, when they had nothing to pay, they were frankly forgiven—and those who believe this love of God in giving His Son to be the propitiation for their sins have the everlasting life for that life is God’s love which enters into them by this belief—and those who do not believe it, have not life, they shut their hearts against it—so that it cannot enter in, although they are living and moving and having their being in it and although it longs to enter into them. And the condemnation at the last day will be, not for having broken the law, but for having rejected the gospel of this love of God.

    But it may be asked, what sort of a pardon is that which admits of a man’s being finally condemned? Is it consistent with justice that a man should be condemned for an offence which had been already pardoned? No, surely! What is the meaning then of a man being pardoned and yet condemned after all? The explanation is just this: he is not condemned for the offence which had been pardoned but for a new one: he is not condemned for breaking the law, but for rejecting the gospel. Whilst man was under the dispensation of the law, the condemnation was for breaking the law: and now when through the death of Christ, we are redeemed from the transgressions that were under the first covenant, and delivered from that condemnation, and are placed under the dispensation of the gospel, the condemnation is for rejecting the gospel, see John 12:48. As the dispensation of the law was universal, so the dispensation of the gospel is universal. And it is from the condemnation of the law that the pardon of the gospel delivers us. But for the better understanding of this, we must first understand the nature of the penalty denounced by law. The penalty according to the record is this: “In the day thou eatest thereof thou shalt die.”15 Men, by their traditions, have converted this penalty into a threefold death—death temporal, death spiritual, and death eternal. But death spiritual is nothing more or less than the sin itself—for sin is the shutting God out from the heart and that is shutting out spiritual life. And, therefore, if I am told that spiritual death is the punishment of sin, I might answer, then sin is the punishment of spiritual death for they are one and the same thing. And death eternal is not a punishment under the law but under the gospel. The death denounced by the law was just the separation of soul and body. This does not however make the penalty nugatory for the soul which had shut God out must have been miserable in its state of separation from the body. This was the sentence on the whole race—and whilst it remained unreversed, it must have kept every man in his grave—it must have lain upon every man like a tombstone and kept him down—no one could have risen. But if death be the penalty, resurrection is the reversal of the penalty. And what is pardon but the reversal of a penalty? It is true then of every man who is to be raised from the dead that with regard to him the sentence of the law is reversed, or, in other words, that he is pardoned. But we know that there is to be a resurrection of the whole race, both of the just and of the unjust. Every man is to be raised, the unbeliever as well as the believer. So that with regard to every man, the penalty of the law is reversed, that he is pardoned; and thus, we see the meaning of that text, “Christ hath redeemed us from the curse of the law, having been made a curse for us,” Gal 3:13; and of that other, “for which cause he is the mediator of the New Testament, that by means of death for the redemption of the transgressions which were under the first testament, they that are called might receive the promise of eternal inheritance,” Heb 9:15; and of that other, “as in Adam all die, so in Christ shall all be made alive,” I Cor 15:22; and of that other, Jesus Christ “is the Saviour of all men, especially of those who believe.” [I Tim 4:10.] And thus also we see the meaning of that passage in I Tim 2:6 where it is said, “that Christ Jesus gave himself a ransom for all to be testified in due time,” —for in the resurrection of the unbelievers a testimony will be given that Christ had died for them—for only thus could they have been delivered from the power of the grave. This also is the explanation of those passages in the 5th chapter of the Romans which assert that the redemption by the second Adam is co-extensive with the fall by the first Adam. And thus, it is that the preaching of the resurrection of Christ as the second Adam is in fact the preaching of the gospel to all men because it is the pledge of resurrection to all men, and therefore, it contains an assurance to all men that God has put away their sin and forgiven them. And it is for this reason that the resurrection of Christ as well as the resurrection of all men is so much insisted on by the Apostles, both in their sermons as appears from the Acts of the Apostles and also in the epistles.

    But is this all that we get by the gift of God’s dear Son? No surely—believers get an exceeding weight of glory by that gift—but this which I have spoken of is something which all men get whether they believe in Christ or not. And their getting this is a proof of their connection with Christ and of their deliverance from the curse of the law through Him in spite of their own unbelief. And although this is no blessing for those who disbelieve the gospel because that rejected gospel shall condemn them on the great day, yet this is their own fault, not God’s. For that work of Christ in consequence of which the curse of the law is removed is an actual putting away of sin and a manifestation of the holy love of God for the whole race and for every individual of the race. And they who believe it, receive that Holy Love into their hearts, which is the eternal life—whilst they who believe it not, shut out that Holy Love and thus shut out the eternal life. But this is not all. Those who live under the dispensation of grace and reject it, although they shall not be condemned for a broken law, shall be judged and shall be condemned for a rejected gospel. The punishment denounced against them is the second death which testifies by its very name both that the first death is passed and that it is the consequence of refusing the second life. It is written that “this is life eternal to know thee the only true God, and Jesus Christ whom thou hast sent.” [John 17:3.] And therefore, it is that men have eternal life through faith in the atonement because the only true God and Jesus Christ are therein made known; and therefore, it is also that they who disbelieve the love of God to them, manifested in the atonement, have not—the eternal life however much they may be pardoned. Sin, or spiritual death, entered into man by his admitting the desire of being as God, that is, of being independent, and by his believing the suggestion of the devil that God forbade him to eat the fruit because He grudged him the advantages which would arise from eating it. Man fell by believing that lie of the devil, “Ye shall not surely die, for God doth know that on the day ye eat thereof, ye shall be as gods,” —that is to say, —man became spiritually dead by disbelieving God’s love, and man is restored to life only by believing God’s love. In the gospel, God says to man, “did you think that I grudged you that fruit? behold I do not grudge you myself,” for he loved us and gave himself for us; — “did you think that I grudged you being as gods? 1t was the sin and the misery of the rebellious wish that I grudged you—for the Word who is God has taken on Him your nature that He might condemn sin in your nature, and thus that you might be partakers of the divine nature, and that you might enter into the Joy of your Lord.”

    Thus, God overcomes evil with good. He meets the-devil’s lie with the blessed truth; and as the devil’s lie was spiritual death to those who believed it, so the truth is spiritual life to those who believe it. And as this truth is contained in a work with which every human being is proved by the general resurrection to stand connected, whether he believes it or not, we have a substantial proof that this truth itself has also a real application to everyone, whether he believes it or not. That is to say, we have a proof that every man is loved and forgiven and has free and welcome access to the Fountain of life. But as the eternal life consists in the knowledge of God as manifested in Christ, those who have not this knowledge have not the eternal life.

    Nothing shows more strikingly both the prevalence of man’s religion in our land and that its principle and characteristic is selfishness than the apprehension that is entertained of the general proclamation of a free and full forgiveness of sin through the blood of Christ as an act already past with regard to the whole human race, irrespective altogether of their characters and of the reception which they may give the proclamation. Men immediately cry out that the whole motives for obedience and the restraints on sin are swept away at once by such a proclamation. Does not this apprehension prove that they regard selfish hope and fear as the great motives of obedience? Is it not a direct confession that love is not regarded as the principle of obedience? Does it not prove that the obedience which they dream of is quite different from the obedience which is required by that law which says, “Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart?” This is a law which cannot be obeyed upon selfish motives—for love is just the opposite of selfishness. This law can only be obeyed by those who know that God loves them and has washed out their sins in the blood of the Lamb. None else can obey it—and therefore this proclamation of full and free forgiveness, so far from removing the motives of true obedience, contains the only motives which can produce true obedience.

    Only mark the discovery which is made by this fear of the doctrine of forgiveness of sin. Man apprehends that an entire recklessness would be the consequence of a general belief that sin is forgiven, whilst God exhorts men to obedience just on this very ground, “that God in Christ hath forgiven them,” and ascribes their lack of the Christian virtues just to their forgetfulness that they had been washed from their old sins, Eph 4:32; 2 Peter 1:9. And when our Lord says to the woman taken in adultery, “Go and sin no more;” he grounds the admonition on that word of life, “neither do I condemn thee.” And lest the woman herself or any others should suppose that this word had any exclusive application to her more than to others, he immediately adds, “I am the light of the world not of this woman only, John 8:11, 12. These two verses ought not to be separated. Jesus was the light which lighteth every man, and John bare witness of that light that He was the Lamb of God that taketh away the sin of the world, John 1:9, 29. It is said in John 3:17 that God sent not His Son into the world to condemn the world, and in the 19th verse this character of Jesus is again called the light and when this Son whom the Father sent spoke to men, he just said, “neither do I condemn thee.” This was the language of the light who came to condemn sin in the flesh, and it was on this ground that he said, “Go and sin no more.” And upon the same principle, when God gave the commandments to the Israelites, He prefaced them by a type of the gospel in these words, “I am the Lord thy God, who redeemed thee out of the land of Egypt.”16 None could obey the law except those who believed the preface, that is, who believed themselves redeemed. And indeed, none except those who were redeemed are addressed. And when the Saviour came into the world, and the times of ignorance at which God winked had passed, and when He called on men everywhere to love Him with all their hearts, the preface to the law was enlarged—it was no longer a typical redemption of one nation but a real redemption of all nations—it was no longer a shadow but the very gospel of the grace of God, and it ran thus— “God so loved the world that he gave His only begotten Son for it, as a propitiation for its sins.”17 Those who believe this preface are in a condition to obey the law, and those who do not believe it cannot possibly obey the law.

    The discovery that is made by this dread which men have of the proclamation of a free and unconditional pardon already past to every man through the finished work of Christ is nothing short of this, that their religion is quite different from God’s religion. For God inculcates obedience by the very argument which they condemn as leading to disobedience. The truth is that they do not understand the nature of God’s pardon, they do not see that the sacrifice of Christ condemns sin as much as it puts away sin, and that by the manifestation which it makes of the character of God, it demonstrates that under His government sin and misery are necessarily connected, and that the blessedness which His love has planned for men is a blessedness arising from partaking in His own holiness and becoming the habitations of His own Spirit.

    I repeat it again, therefore, as a most important subject for consideration that the fear which men have that the restraints on sin and the motives for obedience are taken away by the proclamation of an unlimited and an unconditional pardon through the blood of Christ proves that the obedience of man’s religion is quite a different thing from the obedience of God’s religion. It proves that the obedience of man’s religion is a mere outside thing, paid as a price to obtain a reward or to avert a punishment. It proves that according to man’s religion, God’s government is regarded as a mere system of police for keeping the world in order by operating on their selfish feelings.

    One great mistake into which man falls in the matter of religion is that he thinks that obedience to the law is the way by which he is to arrive at a farther blessing—whereas, according to God’s religion, obedience is itself the ultimate blessing. Love, which is the only true obedience to the law, is the only right and blessed state of the creature. It is from this mistake that much error as to the nature of the gospel proceeds. Unless obedience is considered as the ultimate object, it will always be considered in some sort as a price paid for a farther blessing—and the gospel will be supposed to hold out the prospect of that blessing as a thing to be attained by paying the price. But when obedience is considered as an ultimate object and as in itself indeed the great blessing—then the gospel will be expected to contain such information as will put us in a capacity of rendering a true obedience, even the love of the heart, to Him who is alone worthy. But true obedience, which is love, is also salvation. The enmity of the natural heart is the grand evil, the grand sin, the grand misery. Deliverance from it is salvation. If the belief of the gospel, then, produces salvation, it must be because it contains information with regard to God which will destroy the enmity of the heart. And what must the information be which is capable of doing this? Nothing short of this, that God loves us and has washed away our sins in·the blood of Christ. If the gospel does not contain this information, it cannot destroy the enmity of man’s heart and so it is not worthy of the name of gospel. “We love God because He first loved us.”18 “Her sins which are many are forgiven, therefore she loved much.”19

    That the Bible does represent obedience as the ultimate blessing and not as the means of obtaining another blessing is clear throughout but I shall refer to a few passages in which this principle comes strongly out.

    In the prophecy of the new covenant by Jeremiah, 31:33, the blessing promised, is “I will put my law in their inward parts and write it in their hearts.” And look also what the instrument is —what the pen is by which the law is to be written on the heart; “for I will forgive their iniquity, and I will remember their sin no more.” But the great blessing itself is to have the law written in the heart. Now why is this a blessing? Just because the law is God’s own character. And he who has God’s law in his heart is conformed to God’s character and to Jesus who says of himself in Ps 40:8, “Thy law is within my heart.”

    And what does Jesus say of the object which He had in view with regard to men when He came to the world? “I have declared unto them thy name, and will declare it, in order that the love wherewith Thou hast loved me may be in them, and I in them.”20 The object—the ultimate blessing was that they should be filled with that love which is the fulfilling of the law and that they should be dwelt in by Him who delighted to do the Father’s will. And Jesus accomplished this object by “declaring the Father’s name.” And what is that name? The same which was proclaimed to Moses, Exodus 34:6. “The Lord God, merciful and gracious, forgiving iniquity, transgression, and sin yet by no means clearing the guilty.” This is the name of God which Jesus came to declare. It consists of two parts which appear to contradict each other: “Forgiving iniquity”—yet “not clearing the guilty.” Christ showed the harmony of these two parts of the name of God by bearing the curse himself. “The Lord hath laid on Him the iniquity of us all.”21 So that now through Christ’s work every man’s sin is forgiven and yet every man’s sin has been condemned and punished. And this name is just the gospel, “God was in Christ (in whom the guilty were not cleared) reconciling the world unto Himself and not imputing unto them their trespasses.” The expression “God was in Christ” contains the idea of “God not clearing the guilty;” for, in Jesus, God condemned sin in the flesh, and the remaining part of Paul’s word of reconciliation, viz. “reconciling the world unto Himself, not imputing their trespasses unto them” is just the first part of the name “The Lord God forgiving iniquity,” &c. and thus it appears that the gospel is just that name of God which was proclaimed to Moses, declared by Christ, 2 Cor 5:19. The name of God is just these two things in harmony, “God forgiving sin” and “God not clearing the guilty.” And the gospel is, “God forgiving every man, having already condemned the sin of every man in the sacrifice of Jesus Christ.” And it is the knowledge of this name of God, or the belief of this gospel, which writes the law upon the heart and which causes the heart to open and receive into it the love of God and the Christ of God to dwell in it.

    I may observe here that the righteousness of God is just the harmony of these two parts of the name of God, and thus, the righteousness of God is just the very substance of the gospel and the very thing which gives it its value and its power to heal the soul as Paul says in the epistle to the Romans, 1:16, 17. And the only true righteousness of man, the only righteousness which God  reckons righteousness, consists in knowing this righteousness of God. And therefore, faith in the gospel is reckoned righteousness by God because it recognizes God’s righteousness and thus puts man in his right state before God, which is the state of a sinner who knows that his sin has been condemned and yet that he has been forgiven and that he is loved with a love passing knowledge. When a man does not know this, he is in his wrong state; when he knows this, he is in his right state, i.e. the state of righteousness as God reckons it. The eye is in the right state with regard to the light when it is open for then it admits the light, and it is in the wrong state when it is shut for then it excludes it. So, the heart is in the right state when it believes God’s holy love for then it admits that holy love into it, and it is in a wrong state when it disbelieves it for then it excludes it. The believer in this love then is by God reckoned righteous, and the unbeliever is by God reckoned wicked. And thus, repentance is just faith in the gospel for when a wicked man is called on to repent the meaning is that he is called on to leave off all other expectations of happiness or pardon and to look to the great fact that God has already forgiven him his sins through the sacrifice of Christ. This was the preaching of John the Baptist— “Behold the Lamb of God, that taketh away the sin of the world,” cease from seeking a pardon, look to the Lamb who has done it for you. This view agrees with the prophetic account of his ministry contained in Luke 1:76, 77 and with Paul’s description of it, Acts 19:4. True repentance and faith are just the same thing; they both mean recognizing the true name of God as revealed in the work of Christ. The name of God and the gospel of Christ remain the same whether they are believed or not; that is, every man is forgiven and every man’s sin is condemned whether he believes it or not, but a man is not in his right state before God until he believes this. For until he believes this, he is imagining to himself another god than the God of the Bible, he is worshipping an idol.

    David had sinned against God in the matter of Uriah the Hittite, and his conscience came burdened with a sense of sin. He lost sight of God’s name and so he lost confidence in Him. He probably endeavored in vain to recover peace by the tabernacle services. At last God sent Nathan to him to repeat His name, “the Lord hath put away thy sin.” As soon as the ear of his soul heard this blessed name, he came into the right state of the creature. He had confidence in God as the God who condemned sin and yet had forgiven it. Then he wrote the 32d Psalm. Before he believed in his pardon, when he thought of God, he thought of Him as a terror, as a great prison house out of which he could not escape but as soon as he believed, “The Lord hath put away thy sin,” he said at once “Thou art my hiding place.” He then knew the blessedness of being in his right state before God. No man can know the blessedness of having sin forgiven until he believes that his sin is forgiven. And this is the message of the gospel to every man, but he only who believes it gets into his right state. This right state is just confidence in God; it is just the condition of the creature when its mouth is open to receive out of the fulness of God, to receive the love of God and the Christ of God to dwell in it,

    When Abraham believed that word of God, “So shall thy seed be,” he came into his right state, Rom 4:25. It is evident from what is written in the beginning of the 15th chap. of Genesis that in·consequence of the delay in fulfilling the promise of the seed, Abraham had lost confidence in God and was therefore in a wrong state. But when God repeated the promise in that word, “so shall thy seed be,” that is, so numerous as the stars, Abraham believed it and again recovered confidence and God testified of this state that it was the right state of the creature. God reckoned it righteousness, Rom 4:22. And then it is added that this was not written for his sake but just to bear testimony that this belief of the character of God is the right state of man and that we shall every one of us be in his right state when we believe in God as the God who delivered Jesus Christ for our offences and raised him again for our justification. Now, what is the import of the expression “raised for our justification?” Does it mean raised in order that we may be justified? It may appear at first sight to have this meaning, but it is not the true meaning as a moment’s consideration will discover. The meaning of the preposition for here must be determined by its meaning in the first clause of the sentence. The whole sentence is, “who was delivered for our offences, and was raised again for our justification.” Now when it is said that he “was delivered for our offences,” it cannot mean that he was delivered in order that we might offend; it evidently means that he was delivered because we had offended. And so, in the last clause of the sentence, the for must have the same interpretation; “he was raised again not in order that we might be justified but because we were pardoned. Jesus never could have been raised unless we had been pardoned for he was put into the prison of the grave because of our offences, and therefore, whilst those offences remained unexpiated, he must have remained still in the prison. Why is a man put in prison? Because he is an offender. Why is he let out? Because the penalty has been sustained and exhausted. And so, Christ did not come out of the prison of the grave until the penalty was exhausted. Well then, this is just the name of God, forgiving sin, without clearing the guilty. Our sins have been both condemned and expiated by Christ’s death. We are forgiven through his finished work. Now this is true whether we believe it or not, but we are then only in the right state of the creature when we believe it; we only then know God truly and it is life eternal to know Him; we only then know ourselves truly; we only then are in a condition to enter into the mind of God in his abhorrence and condemnation of our sin; and thus we only then are in a condition really to glorify God by sympathizing in His judgment concerning our own characters and to love God as the Holy One who hates iniquity. No man can possibly do this till he knows himself forgiven. And therefore, no man can be taught to cease from sin except by knowing that his sins are forgiven him.

    And this is the meaning of that passage in the Acts 3:26. “Unto you first, God having raised His Son Jesus, sent him to bless you, by turning away every one of you, from your iniquities.” The resurrection of Christ proved the forgiveness of sin, and it was by the knowledge of this forgiveness that men were to be turned away from their iniquities. The blessing then consists in being turned away from our iniquities, and the instrument of doing this is the knowledge of forgiveness through Christ.

    We have a similar view of the nature of the blessing given in Luke 1:72–75 where we find the father of the Baptist blessing God for having “raised up a horn of salvation in the house of David, to perform the mercy promised to our fathers, that He would grant unto us, that we being delivered from the hand of our enemies, might serve him without fear, in holiness and righteousness before him. all the days of our life.” This willing and holy and righteous service of God is the true blessedness of the creature, and that only is good news to us which puts us in a condition to render this service. Unless the gospel, then, contains information which removes our ground of fear and puts us in a condition to serve God in holiness and righteousness, it really is not good news to us, and it does not accomplish that for us which Zacharias here says that it has accomplished. What was the condition in which this promised mercy found man? He was under a righteous condemnation, and he feared and hated God. Now what could put a creature so situated, in a condition to serve God without fear? Evidently the removal of the condemnation and nothing else. Whilst that condemnation lasted, nothing but ignorance could preserve a man from fear. And be it remembered that the mercy here spoken of was to meet man’s needs not according to his own imperfect views of them but according to God’s view of them. Could God call on a man to serve him without fear whilst that condemnation remained unrepealed? Man’s fearlessness in such circumstances, if it did not proceed from ignorance, could be nothing but a madness, and God’s calling on him to serve Him without fear would have been nothing but a mockery.

    “My thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways, saith the Lord.”22 Man’s way is to arrive at pardon through obedience, God’s way is that he should arrive at obedience through pardon. It is not to a pardon nor to the enjoyment of a pardon that we are called. It is to glorify God and to enjoy Him forever by being temples of the Holy Ghost and habitations of God through the Spirit. Sin had raised a barrier between us and the Holy God so that His love could not flow forth upon us, and the sense of condemnation shut our hearts against Him. The atonement of Christ has removed this barrier, and God’s love now flows forth upon us in freeness. But whilst man believes not the pardon, his heart remains still shut, and although God’s love which is the water of life flows upon him and around him, not a drop enters. The belief of the pardon is just the opening of the heart to let in the fulness of God. And so, the only thing which keeps man from the enjoyment of eternal life is unbelief. Our Lord told Nicodemus that until he had this eternal life in him, until he was born from above, he could not see the kingdom of God, he could do nothing according to the mind of God, he could not glorify or enjoy God. Nicodemus asked how he could get this birth from above— “how can these things be?”’ Our Lord answers “God so loved the world, as to give His only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth on him, might not perish, but might have the eternal life,” the birth from above. God so loved the world that when the world by sin had raised a barrier to stop the flowing forth of His love which is eternal life unto them, He sent His only begotten Son to take on him the nature of man and in that nature to make propitiation for the sins of the world, and thus to put away the barrier and to become himself the channel through which the love and life of God might flow forth unto men. And now that love and life is flowing forth in fulness unto and upon men. When this love is not believed, the heart remains shut and the life cannot enter, and thus, he that believeth not the Son hath not life. But wherever this love is believed, the heart opens, and the life flows in, and thus he that believeth in the Son hath life. There is no charm which can open the heart but the voice of a believed love, and thus it is that until this voice of love and forgiveness is heard and believed, the heart never opens and the life cannot enter.

    The love of God which gave Christ is the immense ocean of the water of life, and men’s souls are as ponds dug upon the shore connected each of them in virtue of Christ’s work with that ocean by a sluice. Unbelief is the blocking up of that sluice. Belief is the allowing the water to flow in so that the pond becomes one with the ocean, and man becomes partaker of the divine nature and has one life with the Father and the Son.

    But where is the doctrine of election? What is election? Did Christ not taste death for every man? Is He not the propitiation for the sins of the whole world? Did God not so love the world as to give it His Son? It is denying the plain and obvious sense of words to deny these things. God’s love then does not flow through the channel of election, neither does the gift nor the atonement of Christ. Where, then, is election? It is here, that when this love was poured upon all, and this forgiveness sealed to all, and the power to believe it conferred upon all—and yet no man would believe it when all loved darkness rather than light because their deeds were evil; when all with one consent began to make excuses; then the electing word came forth saying, “compel some to come in.” And thus is the creature condemned throughout, and God is glorified. And he who believes, believes because he has been compelled to come in. But the fault is man’s alone.23 God loves him and has declared His love to him. God has forgiven him and hath declared that no man is common because every man has been consecrated by the shedding of that blood of the covenant which is no common thing. (Compare Acts 10:14, 15. with Heb 10:29 recollecting that the word translated common in the Acts is translated unholy in the epistle to the Hebrews.) God has thus put man in a condition to glorify and enjoy Him. His high and holy and loving purpose in all this was to train up to Himself a family from our fallen race who might be His sons and daughters and who, through their union with Christ, might reign on the earth in holiness and righteousness as kings and priests unto God. And when He calls on men to enter into this gracious purpose with regard to them, He declares that there is no hinderance to its accomplishment but their own unwillingness. “What could I have done more for my vineyard, that I have not done unto it, that when I looked that it should have brought forth grapes, it brought forth wild grapes?”24 His own Son has become the root of the vine and His own Spirit the sap and nothing but the willful resistance of the branches prevents that sap from flowing into them all. And well may He ask for grapes, and well may He complain that wild grapes are brought forth! And who is he that will say that these complaints of God are not honest? Who is he that will say to his Maker, thou hast not done all that thou mightest have done? Who is he that will say that it is because God will not, therefore man does not. Who is he? Alas! potsherd of the earth, Jesus weeps for him.


    1. Ps 9:10. ↩︎
    2. 1 John 4:1. ↩︎
    3. Jer 23:28–29. ↩︎
    4. Jer 17:5. ↩︎
    5. John 1:29. ↩︎
    6. 2 Cor 5:19. ↩︎
    7. John 19:30. ↩︎
    8. 1 John 5:11. ↩︎
    9. 1 John 5:11. ↩︎
    10. Editor: This archaic use of the word interested means “to induce or persuade to participate or engage.” ↩︎
    11. 1 John 4:19. ↩︎
    12. Mark 16:15. ↩︎
    13. Heb 9:25–26. ↩︎
    14. Luke 7:41–42. ↩︎
    15. Gen 2:17. ↩︎
    16. Deut 5:6; 15:15. ↩︎
    17. 1 John 4:10. ↩︎
    18. 1 John 4:19. ↩︎
    19. Luke 7:47. ↩︎
    20. John 17:26. ↩︎
    21. Isa 53:6. ↩︎
    22. Isa 55:8. ↩︎
    23. “The way of sinfulness into which man has turned is, in conformity with the whole language of Scripture, called his own way in opposition to God’s way. And this opposition almost all admit to be a reality. Few will venture to say, ‘It must be according to the will of God that I should be a sinner, or I could not be as I am,’ We all feel that the holy law of God testifies against this and that God is more honored by our consenting to admit the awful fact that the creature contravenes the will of the Creator than by our regarding him as consenting to the sin of the creature. Now what the law testifies concerning the sins of men in general, the gospel testifies concerning unbelief and consequent ruin. It is a thing of man’s doing contrary to the will of God. It is man’s way opposed to God’s way. —ln the case of the law, the holiness of God opposed man’s own way; in the case of the gospel, his love, his forgiving compassion. The law can have no due effect on a man till it shows him a holiness in God averse to his sin, nor the gospel till it shows him a love averse to his misery and destruction. In the one case we must tell men fearlessly here is the law proving that God would have you to be holy and regard it as no sufficient objection to be told, ‘but men are unholy.’ In the other case, we say as fearlessly to any and every man, ‘here is the gospel. God would have you blessed forever; it is no sufficient objection that men perish.’ ‘I would have gathered you, and you would not.’” —Letter to a Sick Person, Published by J. Nisbet, London. ↩︎
    24. Isa 5:4. ↩︎

    Copyright ©2026 Richard L Leimbach