The works of the Rev. John Wesley, Vol. 10 (of 32)

by John Wesley

6. This was not my only trouble. I was now engaged in metaphysics and natural divinity; accustomed to subtil notions, and pleased with them; whence, by the just permission of God, the devil took occasion to cast me into doubts about the great truths of religion, especially the being of a God. I not only felt, as formerly, the want of evidence for it, but various arguments were suggested against it. But though the enmity of my heart against God was still great, yet he suffered me not to yield to them. There remained so much evidence of his being, in his works of creation and providence, as made me recoil at the terrible conclusion, aimed at by those arguments. And being likewise affected with deep apprehensions of the shortness and uncertainty of the present life, I dreaded a supposition that shook the foundations of any hope of relief, from the other side of time.

7. In this strait between light and darkness, as my disturbance was from my own reasonings, so from the same I sought my relief. By these I hoped to obtain establishment in the truth, and give answer to all objections against it. I therefore seriously set myself to search for demonstrative arguments: and I found them, but found no relief. The most forcible of them indeed extorted assent, by the absurdity of the contrary conclusion: but not giving me any satisfying discoveries of that God, whose existence they obliged me to own, my mind was not quieted. Nay, and besides, those arguments not dissolving contrary objections, whenever the light of them was removed, and those objections came again in view, I was again exceedingly shaken. I was like him, who reading Plato of the immortality of the soul, said, “While I read, I assent: but I cannot tell how; so soon as I lay down the book, all my assent is gone.”

8. I still hoped to attain what I had hitherto failed of, by some farther progress in learning: but all in vain: the farther I went, the greater was my disappointment; the more difficulties I continually met with, and found he that increaseth knowledge, increaseth sorrow. When this would not avail, then I spent my weary hours in vain wishes for some extraordinary discoveries. Nay, but if one rose from the dead, they will believe. And this, notwithstanding my disappointment I gained: I was somewhat beat from that towring opinion of my knowledge and abilities, which my first seeming success in philosophy gave me, and brought to a diffidence of myself.

9. But still my corruptions took daily root, and increased in strength by my weak resistance. Yet I had a fair form of religion: I avoided all those sins that plainly thwarted the light of my conscience. I abstained from those evils which even the more serious students gave into; and kept at a distance from the occasions of them. I was more exact in attending both public and private prayer, and not without some concern for my inward frame in them. When I was insnared into any sin or omission of any duty, I was deeply sorrowful. I had a kindness for all that feared God, and a pleasure in their converse, especially on religion. I had frequent tastes of the good word of God, which made me delight in approaching him. I had many returns to prayer; when under a deep sense of my impotence, I betook me to God in any strait, I was so remarkably helped, that I could not but observe it. Hereby God drew me gradually in, to expect every good gift from above, and encouraged the very faintest beginnings of a look toward a return.

10. But tho’ by these means I got a name to live, yet was I really dead. For, 1. My natural darkness still remained, tho’ with some small dawnings of light. 2. The enmity of my mind against the law of God was yet untaken away. I had not a respect unto all his commands, nor a sight of the beauty of holiness: neither did my heart approve of the whole yoke of Christ, as good and desirable; and I complied with it in part, not from a delight therein, but because I saw I was undone without it. 3. I yet sought righteousness as it were by the works of the law; I was wholly legal in all I did: not seeing the necessity, the security, the glory of the gospel-method of salvation, by seeking righteousness and strength in the Lord Christ alone. Lastly, my sole aim was to save myself, without any regard to the glory of God, or any enquiry how it could consist with it to save one who had so deeply offended. In a word, all my religion was servile, constrained, and anti-evangelical.

11. From the foregoing passages I cannot but observe, 1. What a depth of deceitfulness there is in the heart of man. How many shifts did mine use to elude the design of all those strivings of the Spirit of the Lord with me? I have told many, but the one half is not told. And all these respect but one point in religion. If a single man were to recount but the more remarkable deceits, with respect to the whole of his behaviour, how many volumes must he write? And if so many be seen, how many secret, undiscernable, or at least undiscerned deceits must still remain! So much truth is there couched in that short scripture, The heart is deceitful above all things: who can know it?

*I observe, 2. How far we may go toward religion, and yet come short of it. I had and did many things: I heard the scriptures gladly:—I was almost persuaded to be a Christian: I had escaped the outward pollutions that are in the world: yea, I seemed enlightened, and a partaker of the heavenly gift; having many times tasted the good word of God, and the powers of the world to come. I had undergone many changes; but not the great change: I was not born of God: I was not begotten anew, and made a child of God through a living faith in Christ Jesus.

Again, I cannot but look back with wonder at the astonishing patience of God, which suffered my manners so long, and the steadiness he shewed in pursuing his work, notwithstanding all my provocations. All the creation could not have afforded so much forbearance: the disciples of Christ would have called for fire from heaven: yea, Moses would have found more here to irritate him than at Meribah. Glory be to God, that we have to do with him, and not with man. His ways are not as our ways, nor his thoughts as our thoughts: but as the heavens are high above the earth, so are his ways and thoughts of mercy above ours.

*Fourthly, I must bear witness to the reasonableness of God’s way. It did not destroy my faculties, but improve them. He enlightened my eyes to see what he would have me to do, and did not force but gradually persuade me to comply with it. This was not to compel, but gently bend the will, to the things that were really fit for it to incline to: nor did he ever oblige me to part with any sin, till he had let me see it was against my interest as well as duty: and the smallest piece of compliance with his will, wanted not even a present reward.

Lastly, Though this work was agreeable to reason, yet it was far above the power of nature. I cannot ascribe either its rise or progress to myself; for it was what I sought not, I thought not of; nay I hated, and feared and avoided, and shunned and opposed it with all my might. I cannot ascribe it to any outward means. There are many parts of it which they did not reach: and as to the rest, the most forcible failed; the weakest wrought the effect. Neither strong, nor weak had the same effect always. But the work was still carried on, by a secret and undiscernable power, like the wind, blowing where it listeth. It bore the impress of God in all its steps. The word that awakened me, was the voice of him who maketh the dead to hear, and calleth the things which are not, as though they were. The light that shone was, the candle of the Lord, tracing an unsearchable heart through all its windings. It was all the work of one who is every where, who knoweth every thing, and who will not faint or be discouraged, till he hath brought forth judgment unto victory. And it was all an uniform work, though variously carried on, through many interruptions, over many oppositions, for a long tract of time, by means seemingly weak, improper, contrary, suitable only for him whose paths are in the great waters, and whose footsteps are not known. In a word, it was a bush burning and not consumed, only by the presence of God. It was as a spark in the midst of the ocean, still kept alive, notwithstanding floods continually poured upon it. This was the Lord’s doing, and it is marvellous in our eyes.