Part 4 (1/2)

There is an immense moral difference between praying for forgiveness and confessing our sins, whether we look at it in reference to the character of G.o.d, the sacrifice of Christ, or the condition of the soul. It is quite possible that a person's prayer may involve the confession of his sin, whatever it may happen to be, and thus come to the same thing; but then it is always well to keep close to Scripture in what we think and say and do. It must be evident that when the Holy Ghost speaks of _confession_, He does not mean _praying_; and it is equally evident that He knows there are moral elements in, and practical results flowing out of, confession, which do not belong to prayer. In point of fact, one has often found that a habit of importuning G.o.d for the forgiveness of sins displayed ignorance as to the way in which G.o.d has revealed Himself in the Person and work of Christ, as to the relation in which the sacrifice of Christ has set the believer, and as to the divine mode of getting the conscience relieved from the burden and purified from the soil of sin.

G.o.d has been perfectly satisfied as to all the believer's sins in the cross of Christ. On that cross, a full atonement was presented for every jot and t.i.ttle of sin in the believer's nature and on his conscience. Hence, therefore, G.o.d does not need any further propitiation. He does not need aught to draw His heart toward the believer. We do not require to supplicate Him to be ”faithful and just,” when His faithfulness and justice have been so gloriously displayed, vindicated, and answered in the death of Christ. Our sins can never come into G.o.d's presence, inasmuch as Christ, who bore them all and put them away, is there instead. But if we sin, conscience will feel it--must feel it,--yea, the Holy Ghost will make us feel it.

He cannot allow so much as a single light thought to pa.s.s unjudged.

What then? Has our sin made its way into the presence of G.o.d? Has it found its place in the unsullied light of the inner sanctuary? G.o.d forbid! The ”Advocate” is there--”Jesus Christ the righteous,” to maintain, in unbroken integrity, the relations.h.i.+p in which we stand.

But though sin cannot affect G.o.d's thoughts in reference to us, it can and does affect our thoughts in reference to Him;[8] though it cannot make its way into His presence, it can make its way into ours, in a most distressing and humiliating manner; though it cannot hide the Advocate from G.o.d's view, it can hide Him from ours. It gathers, like a thick, dark cloud, on our spiritual horizon, so that our souls cannot bask in the blessed beams of our Father's countenance. It cannot affect our relations.h.i.+p with G.o.d, but it can very seriously affect our enjoyment thereof. What, therefore, are we to do? The Word answers, ”If we confess our sins, He is faithful and just to forgive us our sins, and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.” By confession, we get our conscience cleared, the sweet sense of relations.h.i.+p restored, the dark cloud dispersed, the chilling, withering influence removed, our thoughts of G.o.d set straight. Such is the divine method; and we may truly say that the heart that knows what it is to have ever been in the place of confession, will feel the divine power of the apostle's words--”My little children, these things write I unto you, THAT YE SIN NOT.” (1 John ii. 1.)

[8] The reader will bear in mind that the subject treated of in the text leaves wholly untouched the important and most practical truth taught in John xiv. 21-23, namely, the peculiar love of the Father for an obedient child, and the special communion of such a child with the Father and the Son. May this truth be written on all our hearts, by the pen of G.o.d the Holy Ghost!

Then, again, there is a style of praying for forgiveness which involves a losing sight of the perfect ground of forgiveness which has been laid in the sacrifice of the cross. If G.o.d forgives sins, He must be ”faithful and just” in so doing; but it is quite clear that our prayers, be they ever so sincere and earnest, could not form the basis of G.o.d's faithfulness and justice in forgiving us our sins. Naught save the work of the cross could do this. There, the faithfulness and justice of G.o.d have had their fullest establishment, and that, too, in immediate reference to our actual sins, as well as to the root thereof in our nature. G.o.d has already judged our sins in the Person of our Subst.i.tute ”on the tree;” and, in the act of confession, we judge ourselves. This is essential to divine forgiveness and restoration. The very smallest unconfessed, unjudged sin on the conscience will entirely mar our communion with G.o.d. Sin _in_ us need not do this; but if we suffer sin to remain _on_ us, we cannot have fellows.h.i.+p with G.o.d. He has put away our sins in such a manner as that He can have us in His presence; and so long as we abide in His presence, sin does not trouble us; but if we get out of His presence, and commit sin, even in thought, our communion must, of necessity, be suspended, until, by confession, we have got rid of the sin. All this, I need hardly add, is founded exclusively upon the perfect sacrifice and righteous advocacy of the Lord Jesus Christ.

Finally, as to the difference between prayer and confession, as respects the condition of the heart before G.o.d, and its moral sense of the hatefulness of sin, it cannot possibly be over-estimated. It is a much easier thing to ask, in a general way, for the forgiveness of our sins than to confess those sins. Confession involves _self-judgment_; asking for forgiveness may not, and, in itself, does not. This alone would be sufficient to point out the difference. Self-judgment is one of the most valuable and healthful exercises of the Christian life, and therefore any thing which produces it must be highly esteemed by every earnest Christian.

The difference between asking for pardon and confessing the sin is continually exemplified in dealing with children. If a child has done any thing wrong, he finds much less difficulty in asking his father to forgive him than in openly and unreservedly confessing the wrong. In asking for forgiveness, the child may have in his mind a number of things which tend to lessen the sense of the evil,--he may be secretly thinking that he was not so much to blame after all, though, to be sure, it is only proper to ask his father to forgive him; whereas, in confessing the wrong, there is just the one thing, and that is, self-judgment. Further, in asking for forgiveness, the child may be influenced mainly by a desire to escape the consequences of his wrong; whereas, a judicious parent will seek to produce a just sense of its moral evil, which can only exist in connection with the full confession of the fault--in connection with self-judgment.

Thus it is, in reference to G.o.d's dealings with His children when they do wrong. He must have the whole thing brought out and thoroughly judged. He will make us not only dread the consequences of sin (which are unutterable), but hate the thing itself, because of its hatefulness in His sight. Were it possible for us, when we commit sin, to be forgiven merely for the asking, our sense of sin and our shrinking from it would not be nearly so intense, and, as a consequence, our estimate of the fellows.h.i.+p with which we are blessed would not be nearly so high. The moral effect of all this upon the general tone of our spiritual const.i.tution, and also upon our whole character and practical career, must be obvious to every experienced Christian.[9]

[9] The case of Simon Magus, in Acts viii, may present a difficulty to the reader. But of him, it is sufficient to say that one ”in the gall of bitterness and in the bond of iniquity” could never be set forth as a model for G.o.d's dear children. His case in no wise interferes with the doctrine of 1 John i. 9. He was not in the relations.h.i.+p of a child, and, as a consequence, not a subject of the advocacy. I would further add, that the subject of the Lord's prayer is by no means involved in what is stated above. I wish to confine myself to the immediate pa.s.sage under consideration. We must ever avoid laying down iron rules. A soul may cry to G.o.d under any circ.u.mstances, and ask for what it needs: He is ever ready to hear and answer.

This entire train of thought is intimately connected with, and fully borne out by, two leading principles laid down in ”the law of the peace-offering.”

In verse 13 of the seventh of Leviticus we read, ”He shall offer for his offering _leavened_ bread;” and yet at verse 20 we read, ”But the soul that eateth of the flesh of the sacrifice of peace-offerings, that pertain unto the Lord, having his uncleanness _upon_ him, even that soul shall be cut off from his people.” Here, we have the two things clearly set before us, namely, sin _in_ us and sin _on_ us.

”Leaven” was permitted, because there was sin in the wors.h.i.+per's nature: ”uncleanness” was forbidden, because there should be no sin on the wors.h.i.+per's conscience. If sin be in question, communion must be out of the question. G.o.d has met and provided for the sin, which He knows to be in us, by the blood of atonement; and hence, of the leavened bread in the peace-offering, we read, ”Of it he shall offer one out of the whole oblation for a heave offering unto the Lord, and it shall be _the priest's that sprinkleth the blood of the peace-offerings_.” (Ver. 14.) In other words, the ”leaven” in the wors.h.i.+per's nature was perfectly met by the ”blood” of the sacrifice.

The priest who gets the leavened bread must be the sprinkler of the blood. G.o.d has put our sin out of His sight forever. Though it be in us, it is not the object on which His eye rests. He sees only the blood, and therefore He can go on with us, and allow us the most unhindered fellows.h.i.+p with Him. But if we allow the ”_sin_” which is in us to develop itself in the shape of ”_sins_,” there must be confession, forgiveness, and cleansing ere we can again eat of the flesh of the Peace-offering. The cutting off of the wors.h.i.+per because of ceremonial uncleanness, answers to the suspension of the believer's communion now because of unconfessed sin. To attempt to have fellows.h.i.+p with G.o.d in our sins would involve the blasphemous insinuation that He could walk in companions.h.i.+p with sin. ”If we say that we have fellows.h.i.+p with Him, and walk in darkness, we lie, and do not the truth.” (1 John i. 6.)

In the light of the foregoing line of truth, we may easily see how much we err when we imagine it to be a mark of spirituality to be occupied with our sins. Could sin or sins ever be the ground or material of our communion with G.o.d? a.s.suredly not. We have just seen that, so long as sin is the object before us, communion must be interrupted. Fellows.h.i.+p can only be ”in the light;” and, undoubtedly, there is no sin in the light. There is naught to be seen there save the blood which has put our sins away and brought us nigh, and the Advocate which keeps us nigh. Sin has been forever obliterated from that platform on which G.o.d and the wors.h.i.+per stand in hallowed fellows.h.i.+p. What was it which const.i.tuted the material of communion between the father and the prodigal? Was it the rags of the latter?

Was it the husks of ”the far country”? By no means. It was not any thing that the prodigal brought with him: it was the rich provision of the father's love--”the fatted calf.” Thus it is with G.o.d and every true wors.h.i.+per. They feed together, in holy and elevated communion, upon Him whose precious blood has brought them into everlasting a.s.sociation, in that light to which no sin can ever approach.

Nor need we, for an instant, suppose that true humility is either evidenced or promoted by looking at or dwelling upon our sins. An unhallowed and melancholy mopishness may thus be superinduced; but the deepest humility springs from a totally different source. Whether was the prodigal a humbler man ”when he came to himself” in the far country, or when he came to the father's bosom and the father's house?

Is it not evident that the grace which elevates us to the loftiest heights of fellows.h.i.+p with G.o.d is that alone which leads us into the most profound depths of a genuine humility? Unquestionably. The humility which springs from the removal of our sins must ever be deeper than that which springs from the discovery of them. The former connects us with G.o.d: the latter has to do with self. The way to be truly humble is to walk with G.o.d in the intelligence and power of the relations.h.i.+p in which He has set us. He has made us His children; and if only we walk as such, we shall be humble.

Ere leaving this part of our subject, I would offer a remark as to the Lord's Supper, which, as being a prominent act of the Church's communion, may, with strict propriety, be looked at in connection with the doctrine of the peace-offering. The intelligent celebration of the Lord's Supper must ever depend upon the recognition of its purely eucharistic or thanksgiving character. It is very especially a feast of thanksgiving--thanksgiving for an accomplished redemption. ”The cup of blessing which we bless, is it not the communion of the blood of Christ? The bread which we break, is it not the communion of the body of Christ?” (1 Cor. x. 16.) Hence, a soul bowed down under the heavy burden of sin cannot, with spiritual intelligence, eat the Lord's Supper, inasmuch as that feast is expressive of the complete removal of sin by the death of Christ.--”Ye do show the Lord's death till He come.” (1 Cor. xi.) In the death of Christ, faith sees the end of every thing that pertained to our old-creation standing; and seeing that the Lord's Supper ”shows forth” that death, it is to be viewed as the memento of the glorious fact that the believer's burden of sin was borne by One who put it away forever. It declares that the chain of our sins, which once tied and bound us, has been eternally snapped by the death of Christ, and can never tie and bind us again. We gather round the Lord's table in all the joy of conquerors. We look back to the cross, where the battle was fought and won; and we look forward to the glory, where we shall enter into the full and eternal results of the victory.

True, we have ”leaven” _in_ us; but we have no ”uncleanness” _on_ us.

We are not to gaze upon our sins, but upon Him who bore them on the cross and put them away forever. We are not to ”deceive ourselves” by the vain notion ”that we have no sin” in us; nor are we to deny the truth of G.o.d's Word, and the efficacy of Christ's blood, by refusing to rejoice in the precious truth that we have no sin on us, for ”the blood of Jesus Christ His Son cleanseth us from all sin.” It is truly deplorable to observe the heavy cloud that gathers round the Supper of the Lord, in the judgment of so many professing Christians. It tends, as much as any thing else, to reveal the immense amount of misapprehension which obtains in reference to the very elementary truths of the gospel. In fact, we know that when the Lord's Supper is resorted to on any ground save that of known salvation--enjoyed forgiveness--conscious deliverance, the soul becomes wrapped up in thicker and darker mists than ever. That which is only a memorial of Christ is used to displace Him,--that which celebrates an accomplished redemption is used as a stepping-stone thereto. It is thus that the ordinances are abused, and souls plunged in darkness, confusion, and error.

How different from this is the beautiful ordinance of the peace-offering! In this latter, looked at in its typical import, we see that the moment the blood was shed, G.o.d and the wors.h.i.+per could feed in happy, peaceful fellows.h.i.+p. Nothing more was needed. Peace was established by the blood, and on that ground the communion proceeded.

A single question as to the establishment of peace must be the death-blow to communion. If we are to be occupied with the vain attempt to make peace with G.o.d, we must be total strangers to either communion or wors.h.i.+p. If the blood of the peace-offering has not been shed, it is impossible that we can feed upon ”the wave breast” or ”the heave shoulder.” But if, on the other hand, the blood has been shed, then peace is made already. G.o.d Himself has made it, and this is enough for faith; and therefore, by faith, we have fellows.h.i.+p with G.o.d, in the intelligence and joy of accomplished redemption. We taste the freshness of G.o.d's own joy in that which He has wrought. We feed upon Christ in all the fullness and blessedness of G.o.d's presence.

This latter point is connected with and based upon another leading truth laid down in ”the law of the peace-offering.”--”And the flesh of the sacrifice of his peace-offerings for thanksgiving shall be eaten the same day that it is offered: he shall not leave any of it until the morning.” That is to say, the communion of the wors.h.i.+per must never be separated from the sacrifice on which that communion is founded. So long as one has spiritual energy to maintain the connection, the wors.h.i.+p and communion are also maintained, in freshness and acceptableness; but no longer. _We must keep close to the Sacrifice_, in the spirit of our minds, the affections of our hearts, and the experience of our souls. This will impart power and permanency to our wors.h.i.+p. We may commence some act or expression of wors.h.i.+p with our hearts in immediate occupation with Christ, and ere we reach the close we may become occupied with what we are doing or saying, or with the persons who are listening to us, and, in this way, fall into what may be termed ”iniquity in our holy things.” This is deeply solemn, and should make us very watchful. We may begin our wors.h.i.+p in the Spirit and end in the flesh. Our care should ever be, not to suffer ourselves to proceed for a single moment beyond the energy of the Spirit, at the time; for the Spirit will always keep us occupied directly with Christ. If the Holy Ghost produces ”five words”

of wors.h.i.+p or thanksgiving, let us utter the five and have done. If we proceed further, we are eating the flesh of our sacrifice beyond the time; and, so far from its being ”accepted,” it is really ”an abomination.” Let us remember this, and be watchful. It need not alarm us. G.o.d would have us led by the Spirit, and so filled with Christ in all our wors.h.i.+p. He can only accept of that which is divine, and therefore He would have us presenting that only which is divine.

”But if the sacrifice of his offering be a vow or a voluntary-offering, it shall be eaten the same day that he offereth his sacrifice: and _on the morrow also the remainder of it shall be eaten_.” (Chap. vii. 16.) When the soul goes forth to G.o.d in a voluntary act of wors.h.i.+p, such wors.h.i.+p will be the result of a larger measure of spiritual energy than where it merely springs from some special mercy experienced at the time. If one had been visited with some marked favor from the Lord's own hand, the soul at once ascends in thanksgiving. In this case, the wors.h.i.+p is awakened by and connected with that favor or mercy, whatever it may happen to be, and there it ends; but where the heart is led forth by the Holy Ghost in some voluntary or deliberate expression of praise, it will be of a more enduring character. But spiritual wors.h.i.+p will always connect itself with the precious sacrifice of Christ.

”The remainder of the flesh of the sacrifice, on the third day, shall be burnt with fire. And if any of the flesh of the sacrifice of his peace-offerings be eaten at all on the third day, it shall not be accepted, neither shall it be imputed unto him that offereth it: it shall be an abomination, and the soul that eateth of it shall bear his iniquity.” Nothing is of any value, in the judgment of G.o.d, which is not immediately connected with Christ. There may be a great deal of what looks like wors.h.i.+p, which is, after all, the mere excitement and outgoing of natural feeling; there may be much apparent devotion, which is merely fleshly pietism. Nature may be acted upon, in a religious way, by a variety of things, such as pomp, ceremony, and parade, tones and att.i.tudes, robes and vestments, an eloquent liturgy, all the varied attractions of a splendid ritualism, while there may be a total absence of spiritual wors.h.i.+p. Yea, it not unfrequently happens that the very same tastes and tendencies which are called forth and gratified by the splendid appliances of so-called religious wors.h.i.+p, would find most suited aliment at the opera or in the concert-room.

All this has to be watched against by those who desire to remember that ”G.o.d is a spirit, and they that wors.h.i.+p Him must wors.h.i.+p Him in spirit and in truth.” (John iv.) Religion, so called, is, at this moment, decking herself with her most powerful charms. Casting off the grossness of the middle ages, she is calling to her aid all the resources of refined taste, and of a cultivated and enlightened age.