5. But if it be prudence, as to keep the commandments of God, so to keep them in the very best manner we can, what shall we think of those who serve God by halves, who halt between two masters, the almost Christians? Because this is so common a case, it may be proper to bestow some reflections upon it. I shall therefore consider more at large,
First, what it is that hinders their rising any higher than to be almost Christians. And
Secondly, The imprudence of this lame way of serving God, of being Christians by halves.
*6. First, The general hindrance to our being more than almost Christians, is the corrupt perverseness of human nature: this it was that made the fair inclinations of King Agrippa proceed no farther than they did: than to extort from him that ingenuous confession, Almost thou persuadest me to be a Christian. Then, it seems, he was not absolutely persuaded, tho’ he was inclining toward it. Poor Agrippa! He had heard St. Paul giving an account of his manner of life from his youth, and of his miraculous conversion to Christianity, with great plainness, modesty and simplicity, and was not a little affected with the discourse; especially with the conclusion, King Agrippa, believest thou the prophets? I know that thou believest. This nearly touched him, and left a very sensible impression upon his heart.
And yet there was something more prevalent within him, that would not suffer him quite to yield. He had a good mind to be a Christian, but fear, interest and prejudice outweighed that inclination, and after some uncertain suspenses, the scale turned on the other side. And this is the case of too many: they have several good thoughts and purposes: but their thoughts and purposes are too much like the endeavours of those that are trying to wake out of a deep sleep, into which they sink back again, overcome by the dead weight that hangs upon them. There is a weight, an impediment in their will, that stops the wheels of virtuous action, so that there can be no motion, tho’ the springs of religion bear ever so hard upon them. Sometimes indeed conscience works so strongly, that she wants but little of gaining her point. But even that little, it seems, is too much; she is like a bowl thrown up against a steep bank, which it nimbly climbs, till it is just about to lodge and settle at the top: but wanting some degrees of force to overcome the resistance, it cannot reach it, and rolls back again.
7. Thou art not far from the kingdom of God, was just such a cast as this: and yet lackest thou one thing, was such another. These men’s religion had carried them a good way, and they were well onward in their journey to heaven; but it tired, and grew faint in the latter stages of the road, which was found either too narrow or too long, and so they stopped short, and made an eternal halt, when a little more resolution would have carried them through. The same thing we now see every day; there are many who have a liking to religion, who have had a good natural disposition, assisted by a religious education. Nor are they only inclined to religion, but partly practise it; they do many things, and forbear others. All goes on hopefully toward a thorough conversion; they are already past the most painful part of it, and are now upon the critical point; so that a grain or two more would turn the scale; insomuch, that there begins to be joy in heaven, and the angels are tuning their harps: yet there wants a little more weight on the side of religion, for want of which the counter-weight prevails against it; against reason, religion and divine grace together. They have indeed the workings of religion upon them; they feel several pangs of the new-birth; but after all, they want strength to bring forth.
8. The imprudence of this lame way of serving God (which I was to shew in the second place) appears first from this, that it is insufficient. Such a half religion can never hold weight in the balance of the sanctuary. Such men, ’tis true, are almost good; but almost to hit the mark is really to miss it. For religion consists in an entire love of God, and an effectual resolution to obey him. Even a bad man may love what is good in some degree, but not with an effectual, prevailing love. This therefore is what denominates a man good, when religion is the commanding [♦]bias of his soul. And none but those who are thus thoroughly good, are so good as to be fit for happiness. To make us capable of that, there must be a peculiar frame of mind, to affect which in us is the one business of religion. And if it does this only almost, and by halves, as it can never bring us to heaven, so neither if it could, would it be able to make us happy there.
[♦] “biass” replaced with “bias”
*9. This imperfect piety is farther condemned by Christian prudence as very absurd. If we did not intend to go through, why did we set out? If we did, why do we stop? If we think there is no reason in religion, why do we any thing? But if we think there is, why don’t we do enough? For the same reason that we do so much, why don’t we do more? For either religion has truth on its side, or not. If not, why do we take so much labour needlesly? But if it has, why do we take so much labour in vain? ’Tis, I own, a strange piece of even brutal indifference, to do nothing in order to our eternal happiness: and, yet, methinks, to do a part only, has something in it more extravagant than the other. He that does nothing, whatever he loses besides, has yet no labour to lose. But to labour by halves, is to lose the same good, and all that we do in order to it. The atheist and libertine have something to pretend; but the half-religious has no excuse; since that very religion he has will condemn him, as an inconsistent, unprincipled fool.
10. The last censure of Christian prudence upon the half-way state of piety, is, that it is very unhappy, I mean even in this world. The almost Christian is the double-minded man St. James speaks of, who has two wills, one for God and another for the world, between which he variously fluctuates. Such an one is unstable in all his ways: he is a mixed, doubtful, unsettled, wavering creature, never out of perplexities and intanglements, always disconformable to himself, doing what he would not, and not doing what he would and should, never long satisfied with himself. He has indeed a kindness for religion, but he has a greater kindness for something else; so that his religion just serves to disturb the enjoyment of his lusts, as his lusts to deprive him of the comfort of his religion. Nor can he be perfectly at peace with himself, but by being thoroughly wicked or thoroughly good. So wicked as to have his conscience sear’d with a hot iron, or so good as to act up to his principles. He must be of a single mind, one way or the other, before he can be at rest. And yet this double-mindedness is the state in which most men chuse to live and die, having religion enough to disturb them in their sins, but not enough to engage them to part with them.