OUR POSITION, SCRIPTURAL AND TENABLE.
“There is a generation that are pure in their own eyes, and yet is not washed from their filthiness.”—Proverbs.
That men are sinners, by nature and practice, is pretty generally admitted as an article of faith by all the sects of anti-Christendom. This admission brings the conclusion that they are therefore all under sentence of death; for “the wages of sin is death.” Sin reigning in them they are the slaves of sin, because they obey him. This obedience to sin is in consequence of the strong impulses of the flesh, unsubdued and unrestrained by the truth, understood and assuredly believed. Thus the understanding of sinners is darkened, and blindness pervades their hearts; and the consequence is that they “are alienated from the life of God through the ignorance that is in them.” Sinner, then, is a term indicative of one who is a transgressor of the law of God; who refuses to submit to his commands, is ignorant of his truth, alienated from his life, and therefore under condemnation of death.
But one may be an enlightened sinner. Such a person is one who knows what is right, and still the wrong pursues. He acknowledges that thus and so is the truth, which enjoins such and such obedience; but he abstains from becoming the subject of it. He invents a refuge in which to hide himself from the necessity of a literal conformity to the word, vainly flattering his conscience that if he abstain from immorality, profess friendship to God and his people, assent to a theory of truth in sincerity of mind, God will not be over-particular in the literal construction of his word. Such an one forgets, if indeed he ever knew it, that “God has magnified HIS WORD above all his name.” He will therefore more readily pardon any offence than a slight upon, or want of conformity to, his word. Men think God is such an one as themselves—that he thinks as little of his word as they do of theirs. But no mistake is more fatal than this; “for without faith it is impossible to please God;” and “without holiness no man shall see the Lord;” and there is no holiness attainable except by faith, and through the faith in the obedience which it requires.
But God and men are at variance on that point. Practically, these creatures of his power think he ought to account them wholly upon principles approbated by the thinking of their flesh. Philoprogenitiveness attaches them to their offspring, as it does all other animals to theirs. Hence they will believe in no heavenly state hereafter which makes no provision for them. They think sincerity of mind in the belief of error ought to be accepted as an equivalent for the belief of the truth; judging thus because their feelings are so shocked at the idea of the few that will be saved by the obedience of faith. In all generations have God and his creatures been at issue on this point. He says, believe and do the truth; they say, sincerely, believe and do what you think is true, and though it may not be really so, you shall be saved. Thus, God predicates salvation, justification, holiness, &c., on “the obedience of faith;” while men inculcate sincerity of opinion as the panacea of their souls.
This diversity between God and man is the source of that distinction that obtains in the world between true religion and superstition, saint and sinner. A saint is one who believes and does the truth with the docility and readiness of an obedient child. He is therefore styled a saint; that is, a separated or holy person. He is separated from sinners in the obedience of the truth, which unites him to the name of the Holy, through which he is sanctified. The saints are God’s representatives in this evil world, who having acknowledged God, or rather, being acknowledged by him, are the pillar and support of his truth in his controversy with sinners. God has given them the Scriptures to wield in combat as the two-edged sword of their present warfare against “reasonings and every high thing that exalts itself against the knowledge of God” therein revealed. The odds is, therefore, the saints against all the world, which they overcome by their faith, preparatory to its subjection by the sword of judgment, which they lay hold of as a substitute for the spirit’s sword, when the time comes for them to possess the kingdom under the whole heaven for evermore. Into their hands God has committed his word, in the absence of his Son, commanding that they “contend earnestly for the faith once for all delivered to the saints.” They are to be lovingly intolerant of all principles nullifying the faith; for this faith is for the justification of sinners, and if they be unfaithful to their trust, how shall men attain to the life of God? If the saints make void the word of God by tradition, what scope is there for the transition of sinners from death to life? Can the blind lead the blind and escape the ditch? When sinners undertake to teach sinners the way of salvation, we are reminded of one with a beam in his eye fumbling over his brother’s to remove a mote!
But confessedly ignorant though they be of Moses and the prophets, sinners generally are vastly wise in their own conceit. Though knowing little, or perhaps nothing, of the Scriptures, which can alone make wise unto salvation, they turn with contempt from every thing incongruous to the thinking of sinful flesh. Sophistry is the “logic” of the carnal mind, which is always ready with an apology for coming short of the divine law. It is willing to impose upon itself a burdensome ritual, and the necessity of doing some great thing, to recommend itself to the favour of the Most High—it will even be immersed and believe the Gospel; but no, it will run the risk of eternal reprobation before it will adopt the divine order exhibited in the wholesome words of the Lord Jesus, believe the gospel and be baptised.
Romanism is the mystery of iniquity, the sophistry of sin; and Protestantism in all its forms is that same sophistry attenuated to the rarest subtleties. Though antagonist systems, yet are they essentially one and indivisible in antagonism to the principles of the oracles of God. They are opposed to each other on “the ground of a sinner’s justification;” but they agree against God in repudiating “the faith by which the sinner may be justified.” When Luther appeared, “the ground of a sinner’s justification” was the great question of debate between him and his brother catholics. These contended for justification by works, such works as papists approve; while he advocated justification by faith without such works. Paul taught justification by faith, so that there seemed to be an agreement between him and Luther. The agreement, however, was only in appearance; for the subject matter of justifying faith was known only to Paul. Luther was as ignorant of it as the papists, and as they who glory in his leadership and name. He was neither a believer in the gospel of the kingdom, nor had he ever been baptised; his idea of justification was therefore restricted to faith in what our sky-kingdom friend at Bethany styles “Sacred History”—the history of “the man, Jesus, the individual, as a guide, a protector, a leader, and a Saviour.” He took no account of his message. Like modern Protestants, he would probably have rejected this, while professing faith in the messenger; not knowing that justification from all past sins is predicated on a love-working faith in both.
Yes, as our correspondent says, “faith is a personal thing;” but he errs in avowing only a part of the truth. Paul shows that it is something more. He says, “it is the substance (or full assurance) of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen;” and when we inquire what the baptised Samaritans believed before their immersion, Luke replies, “the things of the kingdom of God, and of the name of Jesus the Christ.” Our correspondent says Philip did not preach all the things of the kingdom. What did he omit? Certainly nothing that made the doctrine of the kingdom good news or gospel. If he left out any thing he certainly did not omit the kingdom itself; for the gospel preached in Jesus’ name was the kingdom’s gospel—omit the kingdom, and the gospel is no more.
When I went to Edinburgh I found the city asleep, dreaming over justification by faith in sacred history; and with all its wisdom, no further advanced in divine knowledge than when John Knox fulminated his anathemas against papistry from his domicile in the High Street. If there were any believed in the kingdom and throne of David restored, being the kingdom of God promised to Jesus and the saints, of which the gospel treats, I have yet to learn it. There were doubtless some who believed in the restoration of the Jews, the personal return of Jesus, a millennium, &c.; but no one regarded them as essential. They might be believed or not without periling a justification by faith; for it was not perceived, that to deny the restoration of the twelve tribes, or the personal return of Jesus in power and great glory, was to deny the kingdom of God—it was not seen, that no restoration or return, there could be no kingdom.
It therefore startled many minds in their dreams to show that the gospel was concerning this kingdom, and that justification was predicated on believing that gospel in the name of Jesus as its king. Several who heard me had been immersed in ignorance of the nature, place, attributes and circumstances of that kingdom; and therefore had believed something else for gospel than the kingdom’s gospel. This proved, and their justification was shown to be null and void; for being destitute of the “full assurance of things hoped for,” their immersion was not obedience to the faith which Paul preached. Nevertheless, they seem zealous to establish their own righteousness. They argue that their faith is as good without the kingdom as with it. They “knew what Jesus was, and what was his character, his authority, and power.” But the devils believed this, and trembled; they were not therefore justified. Devils believe it now; and, forming themselves into a “Society for the Propagation of the Faith,” send their missionaries, under the Pope’s patronage, to turn idolaters to their belief. This “personal faith,” held in common with devils, is the hereditary creed of all anti-Christendom; and by all parties deemed faith enough for justification! It is the faith of the immersed and sprinkled, with more or less pious sentimentality mixed up with it, according to the education, training, or phrenological constitution of the pietist.
True, Jesus said, “Come unto me;” “Believe in me;” “This is the work of God, that ye should believe on him whom he hath sent;” and so forth. But this was not spoken to ignorant, misbelieving, or unbelieving Gentiles. It was spoken to Israelites, in whose ears Moses and the Prophets were read every Sabbath day, and whose hope was the promise made of God to their fathers, Abraham, Isaac and Jacob; to which hope their twelve tribes, constantly serving God day and night, hope to attain. This hope was the nation’s hope, and had been planted in the national mind ineradicably by the sure word of the Prophets—it was the hope of national felicity and glory under a son of David reigning forever in Zion and Jerusalem. The hope was the kingdom restored again to Israel, and proclaimed by Jesus, the royal prophet to Israel, as approaching, when he preached “the gospel of the kingdom of God.” In announcing this, however, he also advanced his own personal claims to the throne of that kingdom as that Son of David who was to reign over the House of Jacob forever. Thousands of Israel who believed the gospel of the kingdom, did not believe that its majesty was nigh, nor that Jesus was the king who was to bear it; therefore, said he, “Ye will not come unto me that ye may have life.”
But the Gentiles were in different case. Paul says, that they had “no hope,” and were “atheists”—atheoi—“in the world.” They had no interest or desire for God’s Israelitish kingdom, and knew nothing about the “glory, honour and immortality” to be obtained in obtaining it. Jesus never preached to them at all; nor did the apostle ever address them as he did the Jews, who had hope towards God. The “work of God” for Gentiles is that they believe the gospel of the kingdom, and on him whom he hath sent, and will send to sit on its throne to reign over all nations “with a rod of iron,” in power and great glory. Israelites, uncontaminated by Gentilism, in ancient and modern times, believe in the kingdom, but deny that Jesus is its Lord and Christ; while the most pious of orthodox Gentiles, “evangelicals,” as they style themselves, confess with their mouth that Jesus Christ is Son of God, but at the same time hold in pious contempt “the things of the kingdom” we have expressed. And this is not all. They are not only infidels in regard to the kingdom of God, as set forth in the scriptures of his prophets, but they despise, reject and ridicule things concerning his name. Jesus offers believers in the gospel of the kingdom “repentance, remission of sins, and eternal life” in his name; and commands them to be baptised into the name of the Holy, that by baptismal union to that name, they may receive those necessary prerequisites to the possession of the kingdom. But do the pious infidels of the Gentiles respect this offer and command? Quite the contrary. They have a righteousness of their own, which they compass sea and land to establish in the earth; and therefore, like the Jews of ancient days, they do not submit themselves to “the righteousness of God.” Their ground of justification is not God’s. Their faculties, phrenologically styled “conscientiousness,” “veneration,” “marvellousness,” “hope,” and “self-esteem,” are “full,” perhaps “large,” compared with the organs they possess in common with the inferior creatures. A spurious theology, the thinking of the flesh on things not spiritually discerned, is sown in their hearts as tares by the pulpit orators they have heaped up to themselves after their own lusting. Having taken root there, it morbidly excites the faculties we have named, and a sickly sentimentality, they call “piety,” is the result. Feeling marvellously sentimental, the afflation pervades their self-esteem, and they assume that they are of those elected from the foundation of the world to eternal happiness in sky kingdomia. Had they been born among pagans they would have ranked as brethren of the “pious Aeneas;” but being born into a system, which acknowledges that a man styled Jesus Christ appeared in Judea in the days of Augustus and Tiberius; that he was the Son of God, crucified, rose again, and ascended to heaven; and that he was in some sense the Saviour of the world—they assent to these things; and this assent, sanctified by their pious feelings, becomes for them a righteousness unto life. Having wrought one another up to this complacency, they have “obtained a hope,” and their “consciousness” is lulled into the tranquillity of fleshly repose. These are the Scribes and Pharisees of modern times, who appear unto men to be righteous. They are like sepulchres of polished alabaster, very fair to look upon; but, O reader, if you esteem their praise, peer not into their hearts with the lamp of truth. Call not their righteousness in question. Speak not to them of obedience. Be silent as death on baptism. Breathe no doubt upon the divinity and immortality of their souls. Let no suggestion escape you that it is possible the meek may inherit the earth, rather than the skies. Hint not the spuriousness of a faith that respects not Moses and the Prophets, and that transmutes the kingdom they predict into a receptacle of ghosts beyond the skies. If you value their traditions,
“Shake with them in dog-days,
And in December sweat;”
but have no mind of your own to question their conceits; for if you do, the wet blanket of your presumption would so affect their zeal that the smoke of their indignation would well nigh choke you in its cloud.
But, what is the real worth of a pious assent to a few historical facts concerning Jesus, when people substitute their own foolishness for the one hope of the calling to God’s kingdom and glory? Is such a faith justifying? Nay; rather it is reprobate, and hath this seal, “Ye have made it void by your tradition.” When Elpis Israel came into the hands of these pietists in Edinburgh, it filled them with rage, like Naaman the Syrian, and stirred within them a fiery zeal. The truth it set forth antagonised their cherished righteousness; and caused one of them, a dealer in musical instruments there, to decree its consignment to the burning flames! What pleasure the conflagration would afford him! How much more musical would have been its author’s groans to such a spirit, than the roar of its flame in the funnel of his stove! This fiery zealot was a Baptist of some particular order. Now, if it be granted that Elpis Israel interprets the Scripture correctly, of what worth is this man’s piety and belief of the facts concerning Jesus? Was he justified by such a faith? —a faith that confesses the person, and commits the truth he preached to the flames! I cannot admit, that the immersion of such a believer, however pious, was obedience to the faith which Paul preached.
But there were other immersed people in Edinburgh as unacquainted with the Hope of Israel, before I called attention to it, as my fiery friend. They were pious, and their faith simply historical, which the Bethanian philosophy teaches is the best kind of faith! They differed from him, however, in this: that when they heard and read, they examined in a Berean spirit, and acknowledged that the things presented were the truth. But even these were not all agreed. Some admitted that the kingdom we set forth with its attributes, or things thereunto belonging, were the gospel hope—the one hope of the calling; others, that the things were true, but no part of the gospel, which they regarded as the death, burial and resurrection of Jesus for remission of sins to those who believed this. Practically, however, both classes agree in that they both assume that they were justified by faith before or in their immersion, (they are not agreed in the prepositions,) although that faith did not embrace “the hypostasis or full assurance of things hoped for.” I say they assume their justification, inferring, as I do, that being honest men, they would not put off reimmersion, if they did not think they were justified by their lame faith about the time they were immersed. Those who admit that “the things of the kingdom of God and of the name of Jesus the Christ,” are the subject matter of the gospel; and that when they were immersed they knew not the kingdom, and but little of the name as they ought; and believing that it is a love-working faith in the gospel that justifies the sinner—they are certainly at fault, and very inconsistent, in delaying union to the name of the Holy Ones by a second immersion. It is the kind of faith a man has that characterises his immersion. If he have such a faith as Paul defines, then one immersion is enough, and ought never to be repeated on any pretence; but if he have a lame faith, or “a vain faith,” rather, an immersion, no matter how oft repeated, is not “the obedience of faith,” as preached and ministered by Paul. “According to your faith be it unto you.” This is a rule given by Jesus. If therefore our faith be a belief of truth made void by human tradition, it is vain, and we get no good thing as the result; if we believe what is not promised, and cannot, will not exist, we shall get nothing, no matter how pious we may feel, or on what good terms we may be with our own selves; but if our faith embrace the unadulterated truth—“the things hoped for and unseen,” which God hath promised; justification unto life will then “be unto” the immersed who have been subjected to an immersion subsequently to their acquisition of such a faith.
They are, indeed, consistent in rejecting reimmersion who, admitting the truth of “the things,” yet say, it is of no consequence whether you believe them or not. They have compressed their faith into a nutshell, although in the scriptures the truth is found pervading the whole Bible. With them this has no significance; for being minute philosophers, their anxiety is to discover how little knowledge is absolutely necessary for getting into heaven with the skin of their teeth! But in this they are not wise. The character of a man’s faith is altered by the quantity and quality of his knowledge. If a man be acquainted only with what is past, his knowledge is small in quantity and not of the right quality for justification by faith. His faith is of an historical character—mere sacred history—and devoid of doctrine. Such a faith is not justifying. If another be acquainted with the past, understand the mystery or doctrine of its incidents, and be familiar with what God has promised concerning his kingdom and the age to come, the quantity and quality of his knowledge is altered, and the character of his faith is relatively changed. It is justifying. The eyes of his understanding are opened, and like Abraham, he can see afar off. We may choose Christ, but he may not choose us. Our election turns not upon our choice, but upon his. We may choose him upon our own principles, while he rejects us upon his. He chooses us through a belief of the truth, the unadulterated truth; men choose him by believing what suits them, and rejecting the rest. Such may choose Jesus as their “portion forever,” but they will assuredly have no portion in his joy.
It is a mistake to say that “Christianity is an affair more of the heart than of the head.” Paul was sent to the Gentiles “to open their blind eyes, to turn them from darkness to light, and from the power of Satan to God.” This was an affair of the head, without which the heart could not be touched. God has ordered his servants to be sealed in the forehead, which is the seat of intellect. They who are not sealed there do not belong to him. A pious heart, without due intelligence, is an unrenewed heart, and always ready to apologise for disobedience and ignorance, which Paul says, “alienates from the life of God.” The heart of ignorance, however pious in feeling, is never right with God; because it is not “turned from darkness to light,” and consequently not to him in whom is no darkness at all. When the forehead is sealed, the heart responds, and the man’s faith works by love to the fulfilling of the truth.
From the foregoing letter of my highly esteemed friend, it appears that if the Herald is to be popular in Edinburgh, it must assume more compromising ground in regard to a sinner’s justification. Suppose it did, would that alter the fact? If the Herald accommodated the truth to the taste of its editor’s personal friends, would that convert their belief of sacred history into justifying faith? It might make them more comfortable when they happened to read it; it would disturb their conscience less; but it would not alter the immutable fiat of heaven. No, when the Herald’s subscription list is reduced to such a few that its existence can only be perpetuated by heralding forth a system in accordance with “the thinking of the flesh,” its editor will lay down his pen, and write no more. Better far break granite on the roadside for a crust of bread, than to garble God’s truth to please one’s friends, or propitiate the foe. The Herald takes its stand on “the wholesome words of the Lord Jesus;” in their letter, spirit and order, that “he who believes the gospel and is baptised, shall be saved; and he that BELIEVES NOT shall be condemned”—Mark 16: 15-16. When the Samaritans and others believed that gospel, Luke says, “they believed the things concerning the kingdom of God, and the name of Jesus the Christ.” Believing these things, he adds, “they were baptised, both men and women.” Hence, the words of Jesus, historically defined by Luke, read thus: “He that believes the things of the kingdom of God and of my name as the Christ, and is baptised, shall be saved; and he that believes them not, shall be condemned.” (He believes them not, whose faith at his immersion is defined by the Bethanian philosophy or popular creed.) This is my position; who is general enough to turn it? The order is, first, understand the word of the kingdom and name; then, believe it; next, obey it in baptism. Who can improve this arrangement? Nay, who has any right to alter it? Or who, but one whose heart is not subdued by the truth, dare dispute against it? People of this class would have it thus: first, believe on Jesus; next, be immersed; afterwards, understand, perhaps, the word of the kingdom. Seek, say they, in effect, righteousness, or remission of sins, first; and then the kingdom of God. But Jesus himself reverses this dictum, and exhorts us to “seek first the kingdom of God;” because no man can be the subject of “his righteousness,” or justification, who has not found the kingdom: the righteousness being for those who believe what he has promised concerning it. This is the Herald’s “defect,” the head and front of its offending. It is too adherent to the letter, and therefore spirit, of the Bible, to suit the vain philosophy of a sceptical and Laodicean generation. But this we consider as an excellency, which will be duly appreciated by all who prefer honesty of purpose and the simplicity of truth, to the double-minded latitudinarianism of the age. We go for our friends; but also for the truth before them all.
EDITOR.
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