cern are with those things which are now invisi- | for. This is a flagrant inconsistency, and proves ble. "We are saved by hope, but hope that is decisively that religion possesses a small portion seen is not hope: for what a man seeth, why doth of our concern, in proportion with what it ought he yet hope for? but if we hope for that we see to do. For instead of giving to it that superiority not, then do we with patience wait for it." The which is due to immortal concerns, above those first infirmity, therefore, which religion has to which are transitory, perishable, and perishing, it conquer within us, is that which binds down our is not even put upon an equality with them; nor attention to the things which we see. The natu- with those which, in respect to time, and the unral man is immersed in sense: nothing takes hold certainty of time, are under the same circumof his mind but what applies immediately to his stances with itself. sense; but this disposition will not do for religion: the religious character is founded in hope, as contradistinguished from experience, in perceiving by the mind what is not perceived by the eye: unless a man can do this, he cannot be religious: and with many it is a great difficulty. This power of hope, which, as St. Paul observes of it, is that which places the invisible world before our view, is specifically described in Scripture, as amongst the gifts of the Spirit, the natural man standing indeed much in need of it, being altogether of an opposite tendency. Hear St. Paul's prayer for his Roman converts; "The God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, that you may abound in hope through the power of the Holy Ghost." Again to the Galatians, how does he describe the state of mind of a Christian? "we through the Spirit wait for the hope of righteousness by faith." Thirdly; the spiritual character of religion is another great impediment to its entering our thoughts. All religion, which is effectual, is, and must be, spiritual. Offices and ordinances are the handmaids and instruments of the spiritual religion, calculated to generate, to promote, to maintain, to uphold it in the heart, but the thing itself is purely spiritual. Now the flesh weigheth down the spirit, as with a load and burden. It is difficult to rouse the human constitution to a sense and perception of what is purely spiritual. They who are addicted, not only to vice, but to gratifications and pleasures; they who know no other rule than to go with the crowd in their career of dissipation and amusement; they whose attentions are all fixed and engrossed by business, whose minds from morning to night are counting and computing; the weak, and foolish, and stupid; lastly, which comprehends a class of manAgain; another impediment to the thought of kind deplorably numerous, the indolent and slothreligion is the faculty and the habit we have ac- ful; none of these can bring themselves to mediquired of regarding its concerns as at a distance. tate upon religion. The last class slumber over A child is affected by nothing but what is present, its interests and concerns; perhaps they cannot and many thousands in this respect continue be said to forget it absolutely, but they slumber children all their lives. In a degree this weakness over the subject, in which state nothing as to cleaves to us all; produces upon us the same effect their salvation gets done, no decision, no practice. under a different form; namely, in this way, There are, therefore, we see, various obstacles when we find ourselves necessarily disturbed by and infirmities in our constitutions, which obstruct near or approaching evil, we have the means of the reception of religious ideas in our mind, still forgetting the nearness or the approach of that, more such a voluntary entertainment of them as which must bring with it the greatest evil or the may bring forth fruit. It ought, therefore, to be greatest good we are capable of, our change at our constant prayer to God, that he will open our death. Though we cannot exactly offer any ar- hearts to the influence of his word, by which is guments to show that it is either certainly or pro- meant that he will so quicken and actuate the bably at a distance, yet we have the means of re-sensibility and vigour of our minds, as to enable garding it in our minds as though it were at a us to attend to the things which really and truly distance; and this even in cases in which it can- belong to our peace. not possibly be so. Do we prepare for it? no: So soon as religion gains that hold and that why? because we regard it in our imaginations possession of the heart, which it must do to beas at a distance: we cannot prove that it is at a come the means of our salvation, things change distance; nay, the contrary may be proved against within us, as in many other respects, so especialus but still we regard it so in our imaginations, ly in this. We think a great deal more frequentand regard it so practically; for imagination is ly about it, we think of it for a longer continuwith most men the practical principle. But, how-ance, and our thoughts of it have much more of ever strong and general this delusion be, has it vivacity and impressiveness. First, we begin to any foundation in reason? Can that be thought think of religion more frequently than we did. at a distance which may come to-morrow, which Heretofore we never thought of it at all, except must come in a few years? In a very few years when some melancholy incident had sunk our to most of us, in a few years to all, it will be fixed spirits, or had terrified our apprehensions; it was and decided, whether we are to be in heaven or either from lowness or from fright that we thought hell; yet we go on without thinking of it, with- of religion at all. Whilst things went smoothly, out preparing for it: and it is exceedingly observa- and prosperously, and gaily with us, whilst all ble, that it is only in religion we thus put away was well and safe in our health and circumstances, the thought from us. In the settlement of our religion was the last thing we wished to turn our worldly affairs after our deaths, which exactly de-minds to: we did not want to have our pleasure pend on the same event, commence at the same time, are equally distant, if either were distant, equally liable to uncertainty as to when the disposition will take place; in these, I say, men are not usually negligent, or think that by reason of its distance it can be neglected, or by reason of the uncertainty when it may happen, left unprovided disturbed by it. But it is not so with us now: there is a change in our minds in this respect. It enters our thoughts very often, both by day and by night, "Have I not remembered thee in my bed, and thought upon thee when I was waking?" This change is one of the prognostications of the religious principle forming within us. Secondly, these thoughts settle themselves upon our minds. I ture and condition of that state which we are so They were formerly fleeting and transitory, as the cloud which passes along the sky; and they were so for two reasons; first, they found no congenial temper and disposition to rest upon, no seriousness, no posture of mind proper for their reception; and, secondly, because we of our own accord, by a positive exertion and endeavour of our will, put them away from us, we disliked their presence, we rejected and cast them out. But it is not so now; we entertain and retain religious meditations, as being, in fact, those which concern us most deeply. I do not speak of the solid comfort which is to be found in them, because that belongs to a more advanced state of Christian life than I am now considering: that will come afterwards; and, when it does come, will form the support, and consolation, and happiness of our lives. But whilst the religious principle is forming, at least during the first steps of that formation, we are induced to think about religion chiefly from a sense of its vast consequences: and this reason is enough to make wise men think about it both long and closely. Lastly, our religious thoughts come to have a vivacity and impressiveness in them which they had not hitherto: that is to say, they interest us much more than they did. There is a wonderful difference in the light in which we see the same thing, in the force and strength with which it rises up before our view, in the degree with which we are affected by it. This difference is experienced in no one thing more than in religion, not only between different persons, but by the same person at different times, the same person in different stages of the Christian progress, the same person under different measures of divine grace. soon to try. This solicitude, which is both natural and strong, is sometimes, however, carried too far: and this is the case, when it renders us uneasy, or dissatisfied, or impatient under the ob scurity in which the subject is placed: and placed, not only in regard to us, or in regard to common men, but in regard even to the apostles themselves of our Lord, who were taught from his mouth, as well as immediately instructed by his Spirit. Saint John, the author of the text which I have read to you, was one of these; not only an apostle, but of all the apostles, perhaps, the most closely connected with his Master, and admitted to the most intimate familiarity with him. What it was allowed, therefore, for man to know, Saint John knew. Yet this very Saint John, acknowledges "that it doth not yet appear what we shall be the exact nature, and condition, and circumstances of our future state are yet hidden from us. I think it credible that this may, in a very great degree, arise from the nature of the human understanding itself. Our Saviour said to Nicodemus, "If I have told you earthly things, and ye believe not, how shall ye believe, if I tell you of heavenly things? It is evident from the strain of this extraordinary conversation, that the disbelief on the part of Nicodemus, to which our Saviour refers, was that which arose from the difficulty of comprehending the subject. Therefore our Saviour's words to him may be construed thus: If what I have just now said concerning the new birth, concerning being born again, concerning being born of the Spirit, concerning the agency of the Spirit, which are all "earthly things," that is, are all things that pass in the hearts of Christians in this their present life, and upon this earth; if this information Finally, would we know whether we have prove so difficult, that you cannot bring yourself made, or are making, any advances in Chris- to believe it, by reason of the difficulty of appretianity or not? These are the marks which will hending it; "how shall ye believe?" how would tell us. Do we think more frequently about reli- ye be able to conquer the much greater difficulties gion than we used to do? Do we cherish and enter- which would attend my discourse, "if I told you tain these thoughts for a longer continuance than heavenly things?" that is to say, if I speak to you we did? Do they interest us more than former- of those things which are passing, or which will ly? Do they impress us more, do they strike us pass, in heaven, in a totally different state and more forcibly, do they sink deeper? If we per- stage of existence, amongst natures and beings ceive this, then we perceive a change, upon which unlike yours? The truth seems to be, that the we may ground good hopes and expectations; if human understanding, constituted as it is, though we perceive it not, we have cause for very afflict-fitted for the purposes for which we want it, that ing apprehensions, that the power of religion hath not yet visited us; cause for deep and earnest intercession with God for the much wanted succour of his Holy Spirit. SERMON V. OF THE STATE AFTER DEATH. is, though capable of receiving the instruction and knowledge, which are necessary for our conduct and the discharge of our duty, has a native origi nal incapacity for the reception of any distinct knowledge of our future condition. The reason is, that all our conceptions and ideas are drawn from experience, (not, perhaps, all immediately from experience, but experience lies at the bottom of them all,) and no language, no information, no instruction, can do more for us, than teach us the relation of the ideas which we have. Therefore, so far as we can judge, no words whatever that could have been used, no account or description that could have been written down, would have been able to convey to us a conception of our future state, constituted as our understandings now are. I am far from saying, that it was not in the. ONE of the most natural solicitudes of the hu- power of God, by immediate inspiration, to have man mind, is to know what will become of us af- struck light and ideas into our minds, of which nater death, what is already become of those friends turally we have no conception. I am far from saywho are gone. I do not so much mean the great ing, that he could not, by an act of his power, have question, whether we and they shall be happy or assumed a human being, or the soul of a human be miserable, as I mean the question, what is the na-ing into heaven; and have shown to him or it, the Beloved, now are we the sons of God; and it doth not yet appear what we shall be: but we know that, when he shall appear, we shall be like him; for we shall see him as he is.1 John iii. 2. nature and the glories of that kingdom: but it is mark of resemblance to their former figure; as, for evident, that, unless the whole order of our present example, from worms and caterpillars to flies and world be changed, such revelations as these must moths. These are common transformations; and be rare; must be limited to very extraordinary the like happens, when an animal changes its elepersons, and very extraordinary occasions. And ment from the water to the earth, or an insect from even then, with respect to others, it is to be ob- living under ground to flying abroad in the air. served, that the ordinary modes of communication And these changes take place in consequence of by speech or writing are inadequate to the trans- that unalterable rule, that the body be fitted to the mitting of any knowledge or information of this state; which rule obtains throughout every region sort: and from a cause, which has already been of nature with which we are acquainted. Now noticed, namely, that language deals only with the our present bodies are by no means fitted for heaideas which we have; that these ideas are all found- ven. So saith Saint Paul expressly, "Flesh and ed in experience; that probably, most probably blood cannot inherit the kingdom of God; corindeed, the things of the next world are very re- ruption doth not inherit incorruption." Between mote from any experience which we have in this; our bodies as they are now constituted, and the the consequence of which is, that, though the in- state into which we shall come then, there is a spired person might himself possess this superna- physical, necessary, and invincible incongruity. tural knowledge, he could not impart it to any Therefore they must undergo a change, and that other person not in like manner inspired. When, change will, first, be universal, at least as to those therefore, the nature and constitution of the hu- who shall be saved; secondly, it will be sudden; man understanding is considered, it can excite no thirdly, it will be very great. First, it will be unisurprise, it ought to excite no complaint, it is no versal. Saint Paul's words in the fifteenth chapfair objection to Christianity, “that it doth not yet ter of his first epistle to the Corinthians are, "We appear what we shall be." I do not say that the shall all be changed." I do, however, admit, that imperfection of our understanding forbids it, (for, this whole chapter of Saint Paul's relates only in strictness of speech, that is not imperfect which to those who shall be saved; of no others did he answers the purpose designed by it,) but the pre- intend to speak. This, I think, has been satissent constitution of our understanding forbids it. factorily made out; but the argument is too long "It doth not yet appear," saith the apostle, to enter upon at present. If so, the expression "what we shall be, but this we know, that, when of the apostle, "We shall all be changed," proves he shall appear, we shall be like him." As if only that we who are saved, who are admissible he had said, Though we be far from understand-into his kingdom, shall be changed. Secondly, ing the subject either accurately or clearly, or from having conceptions and notions adequate to the truth and reality of the case, yet we know something: this, for instance, we know, that, "when he shall appear, we shall be like him." The best commentary upon this last sentence of Saint John's text may be drawn from the words of Saint Paul. His words state the same proposition more fully when he tells us (Phil. iii. 21) ́“that Christ shall change our vile body, that it may be like his glorious body." From the two passages together, we may lay down the following points. First, that we shall have bodies. One apostle informs us, that we shall be like him; the other, that our vile body shall be like his glorious body: therefore we shall have bodies. Secondly, that these bodies shall be greatly changed from what they are at present. If we had had nothing but Saint John's text to have gone upon, this would have been implied. "When he shall appear, we shall be like him." We are not like him now, we shall be like him; we shall hereafter be like him, namely, when he shall appear. Saint John's words plainly regard this similitude as a future thing, as what we shall acquire, as belonging to what we shall become, in contradistinction to what we are. Therefore they imply a change which must take place in our bodily constitution. But what Saint John's words imply, Saint Paul's declare. "He shall change our vile bodies." That point, therefore, may be considered as placed out of question. That such a change is necessary, that such a change is to be expected, is agreeable even to the established order of nature. Throughout the universe this rule holds, viz. that the body of every animal is suited to its state. Nay, more; when an animal changes its state, it changes its body. When animals which lived under water, afterwards live in air, their bodies are changed almost entirely, so as hardly to be known by any one the change will be instantaneous. So Saint Paul We The two apostles go one step further when they tell us, that we shall be like Christ himself; and that this likeness will consist in a resemblance to his glorified body. Now of the glorified body of Christ all that we know is this. At the transfiguration upon the mount, the three apostles saw the person of our Lord in a very different state from its ordinary state. "He was transfigured before them, and his face did shine as the sun, and his raiment was white as the light." Saint Luke describes it thus: "The fashion of his countenance was altered, and his raiment was white and glistening: and behold there talked with him two men who appeared in glory." Then he adds, "that the apostles, when they awaked, saw his glory." Now I consider this transaction as a specimen of the change of which a glorified body is susceptible. Saint Stephen, at his martyrdom, saw the glory of God, and Jesus standing at the right hand of God. Saint Paul, at his conversion, saw a light from heaven, above the brightness of the sun, shining round about him; and in this light Christ then was. These instances, like the former, only show the changes and the appearances of which a glorified body is susceptible, not the form or condition in which it must necessarily be found, or must always continue. You will observe, that it was necessary that the body of our Lord at his transfiguration, at his appearance after his resurrection, at his ascension into heaven, at his appearance to Stephen, should preserve a resemblance to his human person upon earth, because it was by that resemblance alone he could be known to his disciples, at least by any means of knowledge naturally belonging to them in that human state. But this was not always necessary, nor continues to be necessary. Nor is there any sufficient reason to suppose, that this resemblance to our present bodies will be retained in our future bodies, or be at all wanted. Upon the whole, the conclusions, which we seem authorised to draw from these intimations of Scripture, are, First, that we shall have bodies. Secondly, that they will be so far different from our present bodies, as to be suited, by that difference, to the state and life into which they are to enter, agreeably to that rule which prevails throughout universal nature; that the body of every being is suited to its state, and that, when it changes its state, it changes its body. Thirdly, that it is a question by which we need not at all be disturbed, whether the bodies with which we shall arise be new bodies, or the same bodies under a new form; for, Fourthly, no alteration will hinder us from remaining the same, provided we are sensible and conscious that we are so; any more than the changes which our visible person undergoes even in this life, and which from infancy to manhood are undoubtedly very great, hinder us from being the same, to ourselves and in ourselves, and to all intents and purposes whatsoever. Lastly, that though, from the imperfection of our faculties, we neither are, nor, without a constant miracle upon our minds, could be made able to conceive or comprehend the nature of our future bodies; yet we are assured that the change will be infinitely beneficial; that our new bodies will be infinitely superior to those which we carry about with us in our present state; in a word, that whereas our bodies are now comparatively vile, (and are so denominated,) they will so far rise in glory, as to be made like unto his glorious body; that whereas, through our pilgrimage here, we have borne, that which we inherited, the image of the earthy, of our parent, the first Adam, created for a life upon this earth; we shall, in our future state, bear another image, a new resemblance, that of the heavenly inhabitant, the second man, the second nature, even that of the Lord from heaven. SERMON VI. ON PURITY OF THE HEART AND AFFECTIONS. Beloved, now are we the sons of God: and it doth not yet appear what we shall be; but we know that, when he shall appear, we shall be like him; for we shall see him as he is. And every man that hath this hope in him purifieth himself, even as he is pure.-1 John iii. 2, 3. WHEN the text tells us, "that every man that hath this hope in him purifieth himself," it must be understood as intending to describe the natural, proper, and genuine effects of this hope, rather, perhaps, than the actual effects, or at least as effects, which, in point of experience, universally follow from it. As hath already been observed, the whole text relates to sincere Christians, and to these alone; the word we, in the preceding part of it, comprises sincere Christians, and no others. Therefore the word every man, must be limited to the same sort of men, of whom he was speaking before. It is not probable, that in the same sentence he would change the persons and characters concerning whom he discoursed. So that if it had been objected to Saint John, that, in point of fact, every man did not purify himself who had this hope in him, he would have replied, I believe, that these were not the kind of persons he had in his view; that throughout the whole of the text, he had in contemplation the religious condition and character of sincere Christians, and no other. When in the former part of the text, he talked of we being the sons of God, of we being like Christ, he undoubtedly meant sincere Christians alone; and it would be strange if he meant any other in this latter part of the text, which is in fact a continuation of the same discourse, of the same subject, nay, a portion of the same sentence. I have said thus much in order to obviate the contrariety which there seems to be between Saint John's assertion and experience. Experience, I acknowledge, proves the inefficacy, in numerous cases, of religious hope and religious motives: and it must be so; for if religious motives operated certainly and necessarily, if they produced their effect by an infallible power over the mind, we should only be machines necessarily actuated; and that certainly is not the thing which a moral agent, a religious agent, was intended to be. It was intended that we should have the power of doing right, and, consequently, of doing wrong; for he who cannot do wrong, cannot do right by choice; he is a mere tool and instrument, or rather a machine, whichever he does. Therefore all moral motives, and all religious motives, unless they went to deprive man of his liberty entirely, which they most certainly were not meant to do, must depend for their influence and success upon the man himself. This success, therefore, is various; but when of our Saviour, in the passage here referred to, to direct the attention of his disciples to the heart, to that which is within a man, in contradistinction strives to control his outward actions, but lets his thoughts and passions indulge themselves without check or restraint, does not attend to that which is within him, in contradistinction to that which is external. Secondly, the instances which our Saviour has given, though, like all instances in Scripture, and to say the truth, in all ancient writings, they be specimens and illustrations of his meaning, as to the kind and nature of the duties or the vices which he had in view, rather than complete catalogues, including all such duties or vices by name, so that no other but what are thus named and specified were intended: though this qualified way of understanding the enumerations be right, yet even this enumeration itself shows, that our Saviour's lesson went beyond the mere external action. Not only are adulteries and fornications mentioned, but evil thoughts and lasciviousness; not only murders, but an evil eye; not only thefts, but covetousness or covetings. Thus by laying the axe to the root; not by lopping off the branches, but by laying the axe to the root, our Saviour fixed the only rule which can ever produce good morals. Merely controlling the actions, without governing the thoughts and affections, will not do. In point of fact it is never successful. It is certainly not a compliance with our Saviour's command, nor is it what St. John meant in the text by purifying ourselves. it fails, it is owing to some vice and corruption in the mind itself. Some men are very little affected by religious exhortation of any kind, either by hearing or reading. That is a vice and corrupto that which is external. Now he who only tion in the mind itself. Some men, though affected, are not affected sufficiently to influence their lives. That is a vice and corruption in the mind, or rather in the heart; and so it will always be found. But I do not so much wonder at persons being unaffected by what others tell them, be those others who they may, preachers, or teachers, or friends, or parents, as I wonder at seeing men not affected by their own thoughts, their own meditations; yet it is so; and when it is so, it argues a deep corruption of mind indeed. We can think upon the most serious, the most solemn subjects, without any sort of consequence upon our lives. Shall we call this seared insensibility? shall we call it a fatal inefficiency of the rational principle within us? shall we confess, that the mind has lost its government over the man? These are observations upon the state of morals and religion, as we see them in the world: but whatever these observations be, it is still true, and this is Saint John's assertion, that the proper, natural, and genuine effect of religious hope is to cause us to strive "to purify ourselves, even as he is pure." Saint John strongly fixes our attention, I mean, as he means, such of us as are sincere Christians, upon what we are to be hereafter. This, as to particulars, is veiled from us, as we have observed, by our present nature, but as to generals, as to what is of real importance and concern for us to know (I do not mean but that it might be highly gratifying and satisfactory to "Every man that hath this hope in him puriknow more, but as to what is of the first import- fieth himself, even as he," namely, Christ himself, ance and concern for us to know,) we have a "is pure." It is a doctrine and lesson of the New glorious assurance, we have an assurance that we Testament, not once, but repeatedly, inculcated, shall undergo a change in our nature infinitely that if we hope to resemble Christ in his glorified for the better; that when he shall appear glorified state, we must resemble him in his human state. as he is, we shall be like him. Then the point And it is a part, and a most significant part, of is, what we are to do, how we are to act, under this doctrine, that the resemblance must consist in this expectation, having this hope, with this pros-purity from sin, especially from those sins which pect placed before our eyes. Saint John tells us, cleave and attach to the heart. It is by Saint we are to purify ourselves, even as he is pure." Paul usually put thus: "If we be dead with Now what is the Scriptural meaning of puri-Christ, we believe that we shall also live with fying ourselves can be made out thus. The con- him." "Dead with Christ;" what can that trary of purity is defilement, that is evident: but mean? for the apostle speaks to those who had our Saviour himself hath told us what the things not yet undergone natural death. He explains: which defile a man are; and this is the enumeration; evil thoughts, adulteries, fornications, murders, thefts, covetousness, wickedness, deceit, lasciviousness, an evil eye, blasphemy, pride, foolishness; and the reason given why these are the real proper defilements of our nature is, that they proceed from within, out of the heart: these evil things come from within, and defile the man. The seat, therefore, of moral defilement, according to our Saviour, is the heart; by which we know, that he always meant the affections and the dis-ness of his resurrection." Once more, but still position. The seat, therefore, of moral purity must necessarily be the same; for purity is the reverse of defilement consequently, to purify ourselves, is to cleanse our hearts from the presence and pollution of sin; of those sins particularly, which reside in, and continue in the heart. This is the purgation intended in our text. This is the task of purgation enjoined upon us. It is to be noticed, that it goes beyond the mere control of our actions. It adds a further duty, the purifying of our thoughts and affections. Nothing can be more certain, than that it was the design Reckon yourselves to be dead unto sin;" that, you hear, is the death he means. "He that is dead, is freed from sin;” that is Saint Paul's own exposition of his own words; and then, keeping the sense of the words in his thoughts, he adds; "if we be dead with Christ, we believe that we shall also live with him." Again, still keeping the same sense in view, and no other sense: "If we have been planted together in the likeness of his death, we shall be also in the like observe in the same sense, "We are buried with him by baptism unto death; our old man is crucified with him." The burden of the whole passage is, that if we hope to resemble what Christ is in heaven, we must resemble what he was upon earth; and that this resemblance must consist specifically in the radical casting off of our sins. The expressions of the apostle are very strong; "that the body of sin may be destroyed. Let not sin reign in your mortal body; obey it not in the lusts thereof;" not only in its practices, but in its desires, "Sin shall not have dominion over you." |