It is a very strong proof of the depravity of human nature, that the most persuasive arguments, that revelation itself can furnish, are insufficient to induce the children of men to seek the things that belong to their everlasting peace. When the world calls, and secular interest prompts, they want no spur to their assiduity, no incentive to their zeal. The greatest toil is sustained with cheerfulness, difficulties apparently insuperable are surmounted with ease, and no degree of solicitude is deemed excessive, although in the ardor of pursuit, the only object that presents itself, is either the fascinating phantom of pleasure, the accursed lure of gold, or the bubble of worldly honor, which often is burst by the same uncertain breath that inflated it. But when God calls, either in the menacing language of incensed majesty, or in the attractive voice of parental mercy and pity; how slow to hear are the insensible creatures that are addressed! how unwilling to yield obedience to a call, that invites them to happiness, to heaven! Although the way into which they are solicited to enter, and walk, is the path of glory, honor, and immortality; yet how many objections are made, how many difficulties started, to impede or intimidate the heart in a pursuit of its best, its eternal interests! And, although present peace, as an earnest of permanent bliss in reversion; a sense of the divine favor, as a pledge of one day entering his kingdom; all the unsearchable riches of grace, and all the inexhaustible treasures of glory, are the substantial blessings held forth to sinners in the gospel of the blessed God; yet, how strangely is all this profusion of grace and goodness overlooked or contemned, even by those who are most interested in it! In the eyes of multitudes, worldly vanities possess more intrinsic charms than the eternal realities of the invisible world; He, who is “altogether lovely,” has no form or comeliness, in the opinion of the gay, the proud, and the self-righteous; and all the glories of heaven itself are so depreciated in the estimate of deluded mortals, that, in their false balance, a feather outweighs a kingdom, and a never-dying soul is of less value than the bread that perisheth.
An infatuation of so gross and of so perilous a nature, can arise only from some dreadful evil latent in the innermost recesses of the mind. This evil is sin, which hath depraved the soul’s noblest faculties, and given it a corrupt bias, by which it is disinclined to that which is good, and precipitated to that which is evil. Otherwise, men would never act with such fatal inconsistency, as they appear universally to do, when the objects proposed to their choice are the temporary pleasures of sin on the one hand, and the unsearchable riches of Christ on the other. Were not something dreadfully amiss within, the human mind would not be so totally blind to its own favorite principle, self-interest, as to admit its weight, when worldly acquisitions are in view, and yet forget it, when even a vast eternity is at stake. What, but the utmost carnality and depravation of heart, can make men fly in their Maker’s face, or rush upon the thick bosses of his buckler, by trampling under foot, what it is their duty and happiness to observe and reverence! And what, but the very foolishness of folly, can prompt them to prefer the slavery of the devil to the liberty of the sons of God! Or what, but the most vitiated taste, can make them relish the foulest dregs of sensuality, and discover no thirst for those rivers of pleasure, that flow deep and pure at God’s right hand!
Whatever the Father of mercies enjoins, must be a transcript of his law,—holy, just, and good. His counsels are replete with wisdom, and are admirably directed to the great end of making us better and happier. His service is founded upon principles the most highly reasonable, and leads to bliss of the most permanent nature. When he commands, he consults our good; and when he threatens, no less than when he promises, his end is to save. When he demands any thing of us, he only asks his own; and acquiescence here is salvation. And what but the most perverse repugnancy to the divine will can ever prevent us from complying with proposals, that equally involve in them our own happiness and the glory of God? O the hardness of the heart of man, that can make him a foe to himself, and an enemy to his God! Can any demand, for instance, be couched in terms more reasonable or more captivating, than those in our text? whether we suppose them as the affectionate request of Solomon to his son, or, as the tender and just requisition of one greater than Solomon to the sons of men? Hath not God an indisputable right to our hearts? Is not his claim to them founded on reasons that derive their strength and cogency from the greatest and most gracious works of Jehovah? Ask creation; consult all the dispensations of providence; but especially that grand dispensation of grace and mercy in the gospel; and then say, who ought to have our hearts, but He, who made them, and bled for them? Oh! that when the important question is put, “Who amongst us will give God, the Creator, Preserver, and Redeemer of men his heart?” there may not be one negative voice in this assembly! And may he, who hath all power both in heaven and in earth, “who openeth and no man shutteth,” effectually conquer every prejudice against the truth, while I proceed to consider; First, What is implied in giving the heart to God; Secondly, The tempers which ought to actuate us in making the surrender; Thirdly, The necessity of doing this, principally arising from the natural state of the heart; Fourthly, The motives to induce us to comply with God’s reasonable demand.
I. What is implied in giving the heart to God? Now, in order to complete this important surrender, it is indispensably requisite, that unruly appetites should be subdued, and the most beloved lusts sacrificed;—the alienated affections restored to their original claimant, and set upon God as their supreme object,—and an outward evidence of the truth of this dedication be given, in an habitual consecration of our corporeal faculties, our time, health, families, fortune, &c. to the honor and service of the Lord.
1. It implies the conquest of passions, and the sacrifice of the most beloved lusts. These in the heart are like rebels in a state. They usurp the chief power; and, while they domineer, there “is confusion and every evil work.” Reason is subjected to the loose reins of impetuous passion. God, the rightful sovereign, is dethroned. His law is violated. His will despised. While Satan, that infernal usurper, gives laws to every faculty, and “leads the heart captive at his will.” And what renders this scene of anarchy and rebellion the more melancholy, is, that the heart naturally hugs its own chains, and delights to feed the vipers that spread poison and death through all its powers. From hence arises the cordial love of sin, and a delight in those sinful propensities, which lead to endless ruin. And from hence arises the difficulty of giving the heart to God: because it is requisite that every inordinate pursuit be checked, every tyrannical passion bridled, and every sin, whether gainful, or constitutional, or fashionable, be mortified, before the heart can be emancipated from its slavery. For, how can it be free, while the tyrant sin reigns in it? Let none, therefore, boast of liberty, until the predominant lusts that lead him captive are given up, and sacrificed at the foot of the cross. Neither let any suppose, unless they wish to flatter themselves to their ruin, that their hearts are right with God, so long as they harbour internal adversaries, which he hateth. As well might they attempt to reconcile light and darkness, Christ and Belial, together; or to make the liberty of a Briton consist with the thraldom of a galley slave.
And here it seems necessary to observe, that our renunciation of sin must extend not to gross indulgences merely, but to spiritual wickedness, to internal favorite lusts, to the secret working of which no eye is privy, but God’s and our own. Though the parting with them should exceed the pain that attends “the plucking out a right eye, or cutting off a right arm,” the one the most tender organ, and the other the most useful member in the human frame; yet they must be given up; and not some, but all. Thus it is written: “O Jerusalem, wash thine heart from wickedness, that thou mayest be saved! How long shall thy vain thoughts lodge within thee?” Jer. iv. 14. “Whosoever will come after me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross, and follow me.” Mark, viii. 34. No man, therefore, can be said to have given his heart to God, until he hath given up his sins, and until his heart hath been cleansed from the guilt, and rescued from the tyrannical sway of those vicious inclinations, by which he had been made the miserable dupe of Satan and the world.
It would incur equal danger and absurdity for any man to conclude that he is a partaker of the blessing recommended in our text, either because he may have outwardly reformed, or desisted from sordid and impious gratifications through accident. In the former case, the partial change is effected by a mere regard to reputation, without any real love of virtue, or hatred of sin; and thus a degree of outward reformation, where the heart is not renovated in its leading principles, may spring from pride, and perfectly consist with the inherency of every corruption, which self-complacency and formality can nurture. Or the apparent alteration may be the result of that pain of mind, which is often occasioned by embarrassed circumstances, a distempered constitution, or a sullied reputation; and is not seldom produced by some temporary pangs of legal remorse, or corrosions of natural conscience. When the hand of the Lord was stretched out against Pharaoh, he seemed to relent and repent. But no sooner were the desolating judgments removed, and the apprehension of present danger ceased, but the impious tyrant “hardened his heart,” and gave evident proof, that service arising from servile fear is transient and deceitful, and that the obedience of a slave and that of a son differ very materially in this, that the one is permanent and voluntary, the other temporary and compelled. Belshazzer was filled with horror, when he beheld the awful hand-writing that announced his approaching doom. Felix trembles, when Paul “reasons” before him “of righteousness, temperance, and judgment to come.” And Herod “did many things” while he sat under the ministry of John the Baptist. But not one of these men trembled or acted to any saving purpose, because the secret attachment to the most abandoned lusts remained. Sin was too sweet in an adulterous heart to be given up for the awful warning of an apostle, or the intrepid reproof of the illustrious forerunner of the Son of God. So that many things may be done, and yet if one thing be omitted,—if the heart be not given to God—it annuls all the rest; and all the concessions and seeming remorse extorted by present sufferings, or the dread of future torments, are often as insincere as the reformation produced by them is superficial. Besides, let us be extremely cautious how we conclude, that either ourselves or others are safe, because a degree of outward decency or freedom from grosser impieties may have taken place; since it is very possible that one great evil may be exchanged for a greater, and the last state of some sinners may be worse than the first. Mat. xii. 43–45. A sepulchre, whited and ornamented to a high degree, may nevertheless be the seat of rottenness and putrefaction. So a reformed licentiate, where the renovation of the heart is wanting, has been often known to sink into the very dregs of formality and self-righteousness, and to turn out a virulent blasphemer of the most glorious and discriminating doctrines of the gospel. If the heart be not washed from the wickedness of domineering pride, worldly conformity, fear of man, self-conceit, and unbelief, to “wash the outside of the cup and platter,” will avail nothing. “Cleanse first that which is WITHIN,” is our Lord’s direction. Mat. xxiii. 26.
As to the other case alluded to above, it often happens that a degree of reformation may take place through accident, or the unavoidable course of nature. This happens either through old age, or those contingencies, which often suddenly deprive some, of the means of gratifying their lusts. When the vigor of constitution is abated by declining age, or ruined by a long series of debaucheries; when health sinks with the lapse of time, or fortunes are exhausted by long extravagance; the aged become chaste, and the young, sober, through necessity. But neither, in numerous instances, forsake their sins in reality. Their sins have only forsaken them. This would appear evident to a demonstration, were both only placed in the circumstances that once contributed fuel to their passions. Were only youth, health, or fortune, restored, the aged miser would again add his love of lewdness to that of money, and the enfeebled or impoverished rake return to all his juvenile voluptuousness, with greater ardor than ever. Through all the varying circumstances of life, the heart of an unconverted sinner is still the same, and the sinner himself would be the same, if no such variation occurred, by which his pursuits are circumscribed, or his line of sinning altered. But where the heart is really transformed, former lusts are hated; the remembrance of sin is grievous; the burden of it is intolerable; and a desire to mortify it is deeply rooted, and universal.. Pure principles are implanted. Noble passions predominate. Sublime desires and spiritual appetites attract the heart to God, and fix the conversation in heaven. From whence it arises, that to give the heart to God implies,
2. A restoration of the alienated affections to their original claimant, and a placing of them upon God as their supreme object.
The heart is the seat of the affections; and the principal of these is love. According to the nature of the object, or the degree with which some objects are pursued, this affection becomes either innocent or criminal, sordid or sublime. If sin in general be the object, love is then the most diabolical passion, and pollutes every other faculty of the mind. Before the fall, it was the glory and happiness of man to love God perfectly and incessantly. Since that melancholy event, it is his misfortune to be under the influence of a “carnal mind φρονημα σαρξ that is enmity against God, and is not subject to the law of God, neither indeed can be.” Rom. viii. 7. Hence flows an innate propensity to love the world, and from the ignorance and pride of the heart to idolize self. This alienation of the affections is, in scripture, called adultery; and they who love the world rather than God, are branded, in the same unflattering, pages, with the odious epithet of “adulterers and adulteresses.” James, iv. 4. It matters not, what the thing is, to which we give a primary place in our affections; even though it may be a necessary, an useful, a lawful, or even an amiable object, yet if it be loved inordinately, or with a supreme affection, it instantly becomes an idol: insomuch that our Lord saith, “He that loveth father or mother, son or daughter, more than me, is not worthy of me.” Mat. x. 37. Things unlawful, or of moral turpitude, are not to be loved at all. And things lawful are only to be loved in a certain degree. It is not the love of these last that is sinful; but the excess or inordinacy of that love. In giving the heart to God, or restoring the idolatrous alienation of the affections to him, that is given back which was originally his property. He then possesses the supreme affection, delight, and homage of the heart;—is the centre of its wishes, and the spring of its comforts. This is called “yielding ourselves to the Lord.” 2 Chron. xxx. 8. And the grateful language of such a solemn surrender is, “Whom have I in heaven but Thee? and there is none upon earth that I desire beside Thee?” Psal. lxxiii. 25.