IV. The Divine Application.
To many this is the most difficult of the four points mentioned at the outset. They are perfectly satisfied as to the divine Saviour, the divine salvation, and the divine revelation in the Word of God, but have found no little difficulty in the application of it to themselves. They can see the chain with its three links hanging down from heaven over their heads, but it is just out of their own reach, and as a poor dying sailor once said to me, “I see the rope, but I cannot get hold of it.” So they see the salvation, but cannot get hold of it as their own. If there are any anxious on the subject, and earnestly desiring “to get hold” on the great salvation, let them remember that what they really want is for the Saviour to lay hold on them, and this is what He practically does by the power of the Holy Ghost. It is the peculiar office of the Holy Ghost to take of the things of the Lord Jesus Christ and apply them unto us, and without that act of His we may struggle in vain to reach the blessing. It is not enough for us to be told that God has provided a perfect Saviour, that that Saviour has made a perfect propitiation, and that by virtue of that propitiation the great salvation is offered to us as a gift. We may be assured of all that and yet live on without it, for we want in addition that which the human heart cannot find in itself, the power to receive the gift and, receiving it, to live. It is by this mighty power that those who sleep are awakened; those far off are brought nigh; the bondsmen are set free; the dead made alive, and those who are strangers and outcasts are made heirs of God through the blood of Christ.
There is no case too hopeless for the Lord’s salvation. There are many who have been so utterly unsuccessful in their efforts to rise that they begin to think there is something peculiar in themselves which makes them an exception to the general offer of life and pardon. And there are others who are longing for the salvation of some stubborn, unbroken heart, but who have sought so long and so hopelessly that they almost begin to despair. Now whether your anxiety be for yourself or others, remember the divinity of the great salvation. If the whole is divine, why should it not be sufficient? You say you are dead, but cannot the divine power raise the dead? You say your sins are too great for pardon, but is not the divine propitiation sufficient for them all? You say you cannot produce even a good prayer, but does not the divine revelation assure you that the salvation is a free gift even for those who have nothing?
Give up, then, all thought of working yourself up to salvation, for that is a mere human process, and is certain to fail, but throw yourself before you are saved right away on the Saviour for His great gift of salvation. Remember that the whole thing from first to last is divine, and, because it is divine, as a little child trust it without the slightest qualification, trust the promise, accept the gift, and may God grant that you may be able to use as your own the words of the text, “According as His divine power hath given unto me all things that pertain unto life and godliness, through the knowledge of Him who hath called me to glory and virtue.”
FEELINGS
“Love, joy, peace.”—Gal. v. 22.
Feelings clearly have their place in the things of God. Our Christianity is based on principles, but still it calls forth the feelings. Now there are two great extremes into which we are apt to fall with reference to Christian feeling.
There are some whose religion seems to consist in feeling only. They look for warm, bright emotions, they bring everything to the standard of their feelings, and if they feel as they wish to do they are satisfied. Their hearts are warmed by the things of God, and many a cold, phlegmatic theologian would be a different being if he could but catch something of their feeling.
But still we must put in a caution, for feelings, however bright, are not to be trusted unless they rise out of principle and end in practice. If you have feeling only—a feeling not based on solid acquaintance with Scriptural truth, it will rise like a bubble, and look as beautiful in its colours, but it will burst as easily as the bubble does, and even at its best estate can never bear the slightest pressure. Here, then, is one extreme—the religion of feeling, of emotion, of impression, taking the place of the religion of conviction, of principle, of faith.
But there is another extreme: I mean the religion without feeling. Some seem to think all emotion, or warmth, or fervour is enthusiasm, and settle down satisfied with a cold reception of Christian truth. They may be quite correct in their creed, and may really believe all the great truths of the Gospel, but their system is to give no expression to Christian emotion, and this has a wonderful power of chilling all around them.
We must not rest satisfied with an unfeeling consent to Christian truth. We want to feel as well as to know, and to have the heart really warmed by the tender love of our gracious Saviour. But here I suspect that I shall be met by a great difficulty on the part of many of you, for this feeling is exactly that which many cannot find. You can understand, but you cannot feel. Your great trouble is, that there is such a dreadful apathy over your whole soul that nothing seems to rouse it. If this is the case consider—