Its permanency and stability.
3. I choose to express it by the name of life, first, because of its permanency and stability. Religion is not a sudden start or passion; tho’ it transport a man to extraordinary performances. There are few but have convictions of the necessity of doing something for the salvation of their souls, which may push them forwards some steps with a great deal of haste; but anon, they flag and give over; they did shoot forth, fresh and high, but are quickly withered, because they had no root in themselves. These sudden fits may be compared to the convulsive motions of bodies newly beheaded; which, however violent and impetuous, can be of no long continuance: whereas the motions of holy souls are constant and regular, proceeding from a permanent and lively principle. It is true this divine life continueth not always in the same strength and vigour, yet it is not extinguished; nor are holy men abandoned to the power of those corrupt affections, which sway the rest of the world.
Its freedom and unconstrainedness.
4. Again, religion may be termed life, because it is an inward, free, and self-moving principle; and those who have it, are not acted only by external motives, driven merely by threatnings, nor bribed by promises, nor constrained by laws; but are powerfully inclined to that which is good, and delight in the performance of it. The love which a pious man bears to God, and goodness, is not so much by virtue of a command enjoining it as by a new nature prompting him to it; nor doth he pay his devotions as a tribute, to appease the divine justice; but these religious exercises are the proper emanations of the divine life, the natural employments of a new-born soul. He prays, and gives thanks, and repents not only because these things are commanded, but because he is sensible of his wants, and of the divine goodness, and of the folly and misery of a sinful life. His charity is not forced, nor his alms extorted from him; his love makes him willing to give, and, though there were no outward obligations, his heart would devise liberal things. Injustice, or intemperance, and all other vices, are as contrary to his temper, as the basest actions to the most generous spirit: so that I may well say with St. John, Whosoever is born of God doth not commit sin: for his seed remaineth in him, and he cannot sin, because he is born of God.[¹] Though religious persons do much eye the law of God, and have a great regard unto it, yet it is not so much the sanction of the law, as its purity and goodness, which prevail with them. They account it excellent and desirable in itself; and that in keeping of it there is great reward. And that divine love wherewith they are acted, makes them become a law unto themselves.
Quis legem det amantibus?
Major est amor lex ipse sibi.
Who shall prescribe a law to those that love?
Love’s a more powerful law, which doth them move.
[¹] 1 John iii. 9.
5. In a word, what our blessed Saviour said of himself, is, in some measure, applicable to his followers, that it is their meat and drink to do their Father’s will.[¹] And as the natural appetite is carried out towards food, though we should not reflect on the necessity of it; so are they carried, with a natural and unforced propension toward that which is good and commendable. It is true, external motives are of great use to stir up this inward principle, especially in its infancy; when ’tis often so languid, that the man himself can scarce discern it, hardly being able to move one step forward, but when he is pushed by his hopes, or his fears; by the pressure of an affliction, or the sense of a mercy; by the authority of the law, or the persuasion of others: yet, if such a person be conscientious and uniform in his obedience, and earnestly groaning under the sense of his dulness, these are the first motions of the divine life; which, though it be faint and weak, will surely be cherished by the influences of heaven, and grow unto greater maturity. But he who is utterly destitute of this inward principle, and contents himself with those performances whereunto he is prompted by education or custom, or the fear of hell, can no more be accounted a religious person, than a puppet can be called a man. This forced and artificial religion is commonly heavy and languid, like the motion of a weight forced upward. It is scant and niggardly, especially in those duties which do violence to mens inclinations; for those slavish spirits will be sure to do no more than is absolutely required; ’tis a law that compels them, and they will be loth to go beyond what it stints them to; nay, they will ever be putting such glosses on it, as may leave them the greatest liberty. Whereas the spirit of true religion is frank and liberal, far from such peevish and narrow reckonings; and he who hath given up himself entirely unto God, will never think he doth too much for him.