Front matter (continued, part 28)
Reader, I beseech you, in all affection, to break off your sins—to repent and be converted. I beseech you to change your course—to alter your ways about religion, to turn from your present carelessness about your soul, and become a new man. I offer to you through Jesus Christ, the forgiveness of all past sins—free and complete forgiveness —ready, present, everlasting forgiveness. I tell you, in my Master's name, that if you will turn to the Lord Jesus Christ, this forgiveness shall at once be your own. Oh, do not refuse so gracious an invitation! Do not hear of Christ dying for you—Christ shedding His own blood for you—Christ stretching out His hands to you, and yet remain unmoved. Do not love this poor perishing world better than eternal life. Dare to be bold and decided. Resolve to come out from the broad way which leads to destruction. Arise and escape for your life, while it is called today. Repent, believe, pray, and be saved.
Reader, I fear for you in your present state. My heart's desire and prayer is that God may teach you to fear for yourself.
II. In the second place, there are many people about whom the Bible shows me I ought to stand in doubt. Reader, are you one of these?
There are many whom I must call "almost Christians," for I know no other expression in the Bible, which so exactly describes their state. They have many things about them which are right, and good,
and praiseworthy, in the sight of God. They are regular and moral in their lives. They are free from glaring outward sins. They keep up many decent and proper habits. They are usually diligent in their attendance on means of grace. They appear to love the preaching of the Gospel. They are not offended at the truth as it is in Jesus, however plainly it may be spoken. They have no objection to religious company, religious books, and religious talk. They agree to all you say when you speak to them about their souls. And all this is well.
But still there is no movement in the hearts of these people that even a microscope can detect. They are like those who stand still. Weeks after weeks, years after years roll over their heads, and they are just where they were. They sit under our pulpits. They approve of our sermons. And yet, like Pharaoh's lean cows, they are nothing the better, apparently, for all they receive. There is always the same regularity about them—the same constant attendance on means of grace—the same wishing and hoping—the same way of talking about religion—but there is nothing more. There is no going forward in their Christianity. There is no life, and heart, and reality in it. Their souls seem to be at a deadlock. And all this is sadly wrong.
Reader, are you one of these people? There are thousands of them in this day—thousands in our churches, and thousands in our chapels. I ask you to give an honest answer to the question—Is this the state of your soul in the sight of God? If it is, I can only say your condition is most unsatisfactory. As the apostle said to the Galatians, so say I unto you—"I stand in doubt of you."
How can I feel otherwise about you? There are but two sides in the world—the side of Christ and the side of the devil; and yet you make it doubtful on which side you ought to be placed. I dare not say you are altogether careless about religion—but I cannot call you decided. I shrink from numbering you among the ungodly—but I may not place you among the Lord's children. You have some light; but is it saving knowledge? You have some feeling; but is it grace? You are
not profane; but are you a man of God? You may possibly be one of the Lord's people; but you dwell so near the borders, that I cannot discern to what group you belong. You may not perhaps be spiritually dead; but like a sickly tree in winter, I hardly know whether you are alive. And thus you live on without satisfactory evidences. I cannot help doubting about you. Surely there is a cause.
I cannot read the secrets of your hearts. Perhaps there is some bosom sin, which you are holding fast and will not give up. This is a disease which checks the growth of many a professing Christian. Perhaps you are kept back by the fear of man—you are afraid of the blame or laughter of your fellow-creatures. This is an iron chain that fetters many a soul. Perhaps you are careless about private prayer and communion with God. This is one reason why multitudes are weak and sickly in spirit. But whatever your reason be, I warn you in all affection, to take care what you are doing. Your state is neither satisfactory nor safe. Like the Gibeonites, you are found in the train of Israel—but like them you have no title to Israel's portion, Israel's consolations, and Israel's rewards. Oh, awake to a sense of your danger! Strive to enter in.
Reader, you must give up this halting between two opinions, if ever you mean to enjoy good evidences of your salvation. There must be an alteration in you. There must be a move. There is no real standing still in true Christianity. If God's work is not going forward in a man's heart, the devil's is; and if a man is always at the same point in religion, the probability is that he has got no religion at all. It is not enough to wear Christ's livery; we must also fight Christ's battles. It is not enough to cease to do evil; we must also learn to do well. It will not suffice to do no harm; we must also labor to do good. Oh, tremble, lest you should prove an unprofitable receiver of God's talents—a barren cumberer of the ground, and your end be to be burned. Remember, he that is not with Christ, is against Him.
Reader, I charge you strongly never to rest until you have found out whether you have grace in your heart or not. Wishes, and desires,
and good feelings, and convictions, are all excellent things in their way—but they alone will never save you. I like to see buds and blossoms on a tree—but I like better to see ripe fruit. The way-side hearers in the parable listened—but the Word took no root in them— they were not saved. The stony ground hearers listened with joy—but the Word had no depth in them—they were not saved. The thorny ground hearers brought forth something like fruit—but the Word was choked by the world—they were not saved. Do you tremble at the Word? So also did Felix—but he was not saved. Do you like to hear good sermons, and do many things which are right? So also did Herod—but he was not saved. Do you wish to die the death of the righteous? So did Balaam—but he was not saved. Have you knowledge? So had Judas Iscariot—but he was not saved. And shall you be saved as you are? I doubt it. Remember Lot's wife!
Reader, once more I call upon you to take care what you are doing. If you will not stir up yourself to go forward, how should I feel anything but doubt about your soul?
But there are others about whom I stand in doubt, who are in worse case even than the "almost Christians." These are they who once made a high profession of religion—but have now given it up. They were once reckoned to be true believers—but they have turned back again to the world and fallen away. They have gone back from the point of religion they once seemed to have reached. They walked no more in the ways they once seemed to choose. In short, they are BACKSLIDERS.
Reader, is this the state of your soul? If it is, know for a certainty that your condition is most unsatisfactory. It matters little what your past experience was. It proves little that you were once counted among true Christians. It may have been all a mistake and a delusion. It is your present condition of soul that I look at, and as I do so, I stand in doubt.
I believe there was a time when all the saints of God who saw you rejoiced at the sight. You seemed then to love the Lord Jesus in sincerity, and to be willing to give up the broad way forever, and forsake all for the Gospel's sake. The Word of God appeared sweet and precious to you; the voice of Christ's ministers a most pleasant sound; the assembly of the Lord's people the place you loved best; the company of true believers your chief delight. You were never missing at the weekly meetings. Your place was never empty at Church. Your Bible was never long out of your hands. There were no days in your life without prayer. Your zeal was indeed fervent. Your religious affections were truly warm. You did run well for a season. But, oh, reader, where, where are you now?
You have gone back to the world. You lingered; you looked back; you returned—I fear you had left your heart behind you. You have taken up the old man's deeds once more. You have left your first love. Your goodness has proved like the morning clouds, and as the early dew it has gone away. Your serious impressions are fast dying off; they are getting weaker and fainter every day, Your convictions are fast withering up; they are changing color like leaves in autumn—they will soon drop off and disappear. The gray hairs, which tell of decline, are coming here and there upon you. The preaching you once hung upon, now wearies you. The books you delighted in, give pleasure no more. The progress of Christ's Gospel is no longer interesting. The company of God's children is no longer sought. They or you must be changed. You are becoming shy of holy people, impatient of rebuke and advice, uncertain in your tempers, careless about little sins, not afraid of mixing with the world. Once it was not so!
You may keep up some form of religion perhaps—but as to vital godliness you are fast cooling down. Already you are lukewarm; by and by you will be cold; and before long you will be icy, religionfrozen, and more dead than you were before. You are grieving the Spirit, and He will soon leave you. You are tempting the devil, and he will soon come to you; your heart is ready for him—your last state
will be worse than your first. Oh, reader, strengthen the things which remain, which are ready to die. How can I possibly help feeling doubt about your soul?*
* I find that many people object to the expression, "You are grieving the Spirit, and He will soon leave you." On calm reflection I am not disposed to alter it. I think it is dangerous to attempt to be more systematic than the Bible in our theology. I think there is Scriptural warrant for saying that an unconverted man who possesses great light and knowledge in the things of religion, and yet refuses to give up sin and the world, does, in a certain sense, grieve the Holy Spirit. I would refer to Isaiah 63:10; Acts 7:51; Heb. 10:29. In taking this ground, I believe I am in entire harmony with one of the most Scriptural divines that ever lived—I mean John Bunyan. In "Pilgrim's Progress" he represents the man in the iron cage, at the Interpreter's house, saying to Christian, "I sinned against the light of the Word, and the goodness of God. I have grieved the Spirit, and He is gone. I tempted the devil, and he is come to me. I have provoked God to anger, and He has left me."
The length to which people may go in a profession of religion, and yet remain unconverted in heart, and be lost at last, is one of the most awful and soul-searching points in theology.
But I cannot let you go without trying to do you good. I do pity you indeed, because you are so unhappy. I know it—I am sure of it—it is useless to deny it. You have been unhappy ever since you fell away. You are unhappy at home, and unhappy abroad, unhappy in company, and unhappy alone; unhappy when you lie down, and unhappy when you rise up. You may have got riches, honor, family, friends—but yet the sting remains. There is a famine of consolation about you—there is an utter dearth of inward peace. You are sick at heart—you are ill at ease—you are discontented with everybody, because you are discontented with yourself. You are like a bird that has wandered from her nest—you never feel in your right place. You have too much religion to enjoy the world, and too little religion to
enjoy God. You are weary of life, and yet afraid to die. Truly the words of Solomon are made good in your case, "You are filled with your own ways."
Reader, notwithstanding all your backslidings, there is hope even for you. There is no disease of soul that the glorious Gospel cannot cure. There is a remedy even for your case—humbling, pride-lowering, I know—but a sure remedy; and I earnestly beseech you to take it. That remedy is the Fountain opened for all sins—the free mercy of God in Christ Jesus. Go and wash in that Fountain without delay, and Jesus Christ shall make you whole!
Take down your neglected Bible and see how David fell and lay in foul sin a whole year, and yet when he repented and turned to God, there was mercy for him. Turn to the history of the apostle Peter, and see how he denied his Master three times with an oath, and yet when he wept and humbled himself, there was mercy for him. Hear what comfortable words our Lord and Savior sends you this day—"Come unto Me all you who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest." "You have played the harlot with many lovers, yet return again to Me." "Though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they be red like crimson, they shall be as wool." "Return, you backsliding children, and I will heal your backslidings." Oh, that you may take up the words of Israel this day, and reply, "Behold I come unto You, for You are the Lord my God." (Matt. 11:28; Jer. 3:1; Isai. 1:18; Jer. 3:22.)
Reader, I pray God these words may not be brought before you in vain. But remember, until you turn from your backslidings, I must stand in doubt about your soul.
III. In the third place, there are some people about whom the Bible tells me I ought to feel a good hope. Reader, are you one of these?
The people I speak of have found out that they are guilty sinners, and have fled to Christ by faith for salvation. They have found out that sin is a miserable and unhappy thing, and they hate it, and long to be free from its presence altogether. In themselves they see nothing but weakness and corruption—but in the Lord Jesus they see the very things their souls require—pardon, peace, light, comfort, and strength. Christ's blood, Christ's cross, Christ's righteousness, Christ's intercession—these are the things on which their minds love to dwell. Their affections are now set on things above. They care for nothing so much as pleasing God. While they live their chief desire is to live to the Lord. When they die, their only desire is to die in the Lord. After death, their hope is that they shall be with the Lord.
Reader, is this the state of your soul? Do you know anything of the faith and hope, and affections, and experience, which I have just described? Do you find anything in your heart which answers to the account I have just given? If you do, I thank God for it—I congratulate you on your condition—I feel a good hope about your soul.
I know well that you live in a world full of trials. You are yet in the wilderness; you are not at home. I know well that pride, and unbelief, and sloth, are continually struggling for the mastery within you. You have fightings without and fears within. I doubt not your heart is so treacherous and deceitful, that you are often sick of yourself and say, "Never was any heart so bad as mine!" But, notwithstanding all this, I must hope well for your soul.
I hope, because I believe that God has begun a work in you which He will never allow to be overthrown. Who taught you to hate sin and love Christ? Who made you come out from the world and delight in God's service? These things do not come from your own heart. Nature bears no such fruit. These things are the work of God, who where He begins, always finishes; who where He gives grace, will also give glory. Surely here is ground for hope.
I hope, because I believe you have a saving interest in an everlasting covenant, a covenant ordered in all things and sure. The stamp of heaven is upon you. The marks of the Lord Jesus are on your soul. Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, have all engaged to complete the salvation of your soul. There is a three-fold cord around you which never yet was broken. Surely here is ground for hope.
I hope, because you have a Savior whose blood can cleanse from all sin—a Savior who invites all, and casts out none who come to Him—a Savior who will not break the bruised reed, nor quench the smoking flax—a Savior who can be touched with the feeling of your infirmities, and is not ashamed to call you brethren—a Savior who never alters—the same yesterday, today, and forever, always able to save to the uttermost, always mighty to save. Surely here is ground for hope.
I hope, because the love of Christ is a love that passes knowledge. So free and undeserved! So costly, even unto death! So powerful and allconquering! So unchanging and enduring! So patient and forbearing! So tender and sympathizing! Truly our sins pass knowledge, and this love of Jesus is the very love our souls need. Surely here is ground for hope.
I hope, because God has given to you exceeding great and precious promises—promises of being kept unto the end—promises of grace for every time of need, and strength according to your day—promises that never yet were broken, all yes and amen in Christ Jesus. Surely here is ground for hope.
Oh, reader, if you are a believer, these things are a strong foundation. If God is for you, who shall be against you? There is no condemnation to those who are in Christ Jesus. Nothing shall ever separate them from the love of God which is in Christ Jesus our Lord.
Come now, and let me tell you what I want you, and every true Christian to aim at. I want you to seek more hope. I want you not to rest satisfied with that little mite of confidence, which forms the whole stock of many of God's children. I want you to seek the full assurance of hope—that lively hope which makes a man never ashamed.
I speak as a fellow-traveler in the narrow way. I speak as one who desires that his own hope may grow and increase every year that he lives, and wishes the hope of all his brethren to grow too. I know and am persuaded that I write things which are for your peace. As ever you would have few days of darkness—as ever you would feel God's face smiling on your soul—as ever you would have joy and peace in believing—by all your recollections of past short-comings—by all your desires of comfort in time to come—I charge you, I exhort you, I beseech you to seek the full assurance of hope.
Ah, reader, if you are a true believer, you know well that we need these mutual exhortations! You and I are but 'children' in the Lord's service, at our very best. Our souls are ever ready to cleave to the dust. There is room for improvement in us every day. Listen then, while I tell you a few things which we must never forget, if we would enjoy more hope—which we must never lose sight of, if we would keep it when we have got it.
1. If we want to grow in grace, and have more hope, we must seek a more experimental knowledge of our Lord Jesus Christ. How little do we know of Him! Our cold affections towards Him are a witness against ourselves. If our eyes were more open to what He is and does for us—we would love Him more. There are some Christians whose minds seem ever running on the doctrine of sanctification, to the exclusion of everything else. They can argue warmly about little points of practice; yet they are cold about Christ. They live by rule, they walk strictly, they do many things, they fancy in a short time they shall be very strong. But all this time they lose sight of this grand truth—that nothing is so sanctifying as
knowledge of the Lord Jesus, and communion with Him. "Abide in Me," He says Himself, "and I in you. As the branch cannot bear fruit, unless it abides in the vine; no more can you unless you abide in Me." Christ must be the spring of our holiness—as well as the rock of our faith. Christ must be all in all.
I doubt not He is precious to you that believe. Precious He ought to be, because of His offices, and precious because of His work. Precious He ought to be, for what He has done already—He has called us, quickened us, washed us, justified us. Precious He ought to be for what He is doing even now—strengthening us, interceding for us, sympathizing with us. Precious He ought to be for what He will do yet—He will keep us to the end, raise us, gather us at His coming, present us faultless before God's throne, give us rest with Him in His kingdom. But oh, reader, Christ ought to be far more precious to us than He ever has been yet!
I take you to record, if it were the last word of my life, I believe that nothing but the knowledge of Christ will ever feed a man's spirit. All our darkness arises from not keeping close to Him. The forms of religion are valuable as helps—and public ordinances are profitable to strengthen us—but it must be Christ crucified for sinners—Christ seen with the eye of faith—Christ present in the heart—Christ as the bread of life, and Christ as the water of life—this must be the doctrine we must ever cling to. Nothing else will either save, satisfy, or sanctify a sinful soul. We all need a more experimental knowledge of Christ.
2. If we would grow in grace and hope let us begin here. If we want to grow in grace and have more hope, we must seek more knowledge of our own hearts. "The human heart is most deceitful and desperately wicked. Who really knows how bad it is? But I know! I, the Lord, search all hearts and examine secret motives." (Jeremiah 17:9-10) We imagine we are acquainted with our heart—and we are not. The half of the sin that is in them has hitherto been hidden from our eyes. We have not the slightest idea how much they might
deceive us if tried, and into what depths of Satan the very best of us might fall. But we all know by bitter experience, that by trusting our hearts we have often made sad mistakes. We have sometimes committed such errors that we have lost sight of our hope, and been ready to believe we had no grace at all. Oh, if we would be happy Christians, let us cease to put confidence in our hearts. Let us learn to expect nothing from them but weakness and feebleness. Let us cease to look to frames and feelings for our comforts. Hope built on anything within us must always be wavering and unstable.
3. If we want to grow in grace and have more hope, we must seek more holiness in life and conversation. This is a humbling lesson to dwell upon—but one that cannot be dwelt upon too much. There is an inseparable connection between a close walk with God, and comfort in our religion. Let this never be forgotten. Truly, many of the vessels in the Lord's house are very dull and dingy. When I look around, I see many things missing among us, which Jesus loves. I miss the meekness and gentleness of our Master—many of us are harsh, rough-tempered, and censorious, and we flatter ourselves that we are faithful. I miss real boldness in confessing Christ before men —we often think much more of the time to be silent, than the time to speak. I miss real humility—not many of us like to take the lowest place, and esteem everyone better than ourselves, and our own strength perfect weakness. I miss real charity—few of us have that unselfish spirit, which seeks not its own—there are few who are not more taken up with their own feelings and their own happiness than that of others. I miss real thankfulness of spirit—we complain, and murmur, and fret, and brood over the things we have not, and forget the things we have. We are seldom content; there is generally a Mordecai at our gate. I miss decided separation from the world —the line of distinction is often rubbed out. Many of us, like the chameleon, are always taking the color of our company we become so like the ungodly, that it strains a man's eyes to see the difference. Reader, these things ought not so to be. If we want more hope, let us be zealous of good works.
4. If we want to grow in grace, and have a more lively hope, we must seek more watchfulness in seasons of prosperity. I know no time in a believer's life, when his soul is in such real danger, as it is when all things go well with him. I know no time when a believer is so likely to contract spiritual diseases, and lay the foundation of many days of darkness and doubt in his inward man. You and I like the course of our life to run smoothly—and it is natural to flesh and blood to do so. But you and I have little idea how perilous this smooth course is to our religion. The seeds of sickness are generally sown in health. It is the holiday time when lessons are forgotten. It is the sweet things which do harm to the children, and not the bitter. It is the world's favor which injures believers far more than the world's frown. David committed no adultery while fleeing before the face of Saul—it was when Saul was dead and he was king in his stead, and there was peace in Israel. Christian, in "Pilgrim's Progress," did not lose his evidence while he was fighting with Apollyon—it was when he was sleeping in a pleasant arbor, and no enemy seemed near. Oh, if we would have a lively hope, let us watch in the days of prosperity, and be sober.
5. If we want to grow in grace, and have a more lively hope, we must seek more faith and contentment in time of trial. Trial often makes a righteous man speak unadvisedly with his lips, and say and do things which rise like mist between his soul and Christ. Trial is a fire which often brings much dross to the surface of a believer's heart, and makes him say, "God has forgotten me, there is no hope for my soul; I am cast out of the Lord's sight; I do well to complain." Yet trial is the hand of a Father chastening us for our profit, however slow we may be to believe it. The rod of affliction is often sent in answer to a prayer for sanctification—it is one of God's ways of carrying on that work of sanctification which we profess to desire. Jacob, and Joseph, and Moses, and David, all found this. Blessed are they who take patiently the Lord's medicines —who bear the cross in silence, and say, "It is well." Afflictions well borne are spiritual promotions. Patience having a perfect work in the
time of affliction, will sooner or later yield a precious harvest of inward hope.
6. If we would grow in grace, and have a more lively hope, we must seek more preparedness for Christ's second coming. I know no doctrine more sanctifying and quickening than the doctrine of Christ's second advent. I know none more calculated to draw us from the world, and to make us single-eyed, wholehearted, and joyful Christians. But alas, how few believers live like men who wait for their Master's return! Who, that narrowly observes the ways of many believers, would ever think that they loved and longed for their Lord's appearing? Is it not true that there are many hearts among God's children which are not quite ready to receive Jesus? He would find the window barred—the door shut—the fires almost out—it would be a cold and comfortless reception. Oh, believing reader, it ought not so to be! We need more of a pilgrim's spirit—we ought to be ever looking for and hastening to our home. The day of the Lord's advent is the day of rest, the day of complete redemption, the day when the family of God shall at last be all gathered together. It is the day when we shall no longer walk by faith—but by sight—we shall see the land that is far off—we shall behold the King in His beauty. Surely we ought to be saying daily, "Come Lord Jesus, let Your kingdom come!" Oh, let us set Christ's second advent continually before our eyes! Let us say to ourselves every morning, "The Lord will soon return," and it will be good for our souls.
7. Lastly, if we want to grow in grace and have more hope, we must seek more diligence about means of grace. It is vain to suppose that our hope is not dependent in any sense on the pains we take in the use of God's appointed ordinances. It is dependent, and that to a very great extent. God has wisely ordered it, so that lazy Christians seldom enjoy any assurance of their own acceptance. He tells us that we must labor, and strive, and work—to make our calling and election sure. Oh, that believers would remember this, and lay it to heart!
I suspect that many of God's people are very lazy in their manner of using means. They know little of David's spirit, when he said, "My soul longs and faints for the courts of the house of my God." I doubt whether there is much private prayer before and after sermons. Yet, remember, hearing alone is not everything—when all is said in the pulpit, only half the work is done. I doubt whether the Bible is as much read as it should be. Nothing in my own short experience has surprised me so much as the 'contented ignorance of Scripture' which prevails among believers. I doubt whether private prayer is often made a business of as it should be. We are often satisfied to get up from our knees without having really seen or heard anything of God and His Christ. And all this is wrong. It is the diligent soul that enjoys lively hope.
Reader let us lay to heart the things that I have mentioned. Let us resolve, by God's help, to set them before us continually, to pray for them, strive after them, and endeavor to attain them.
This is the way to be useful Christians. The world knows little of Christ, beyond what it sees of Him in His people. Oh, what plain clearly written epistles they ought to be! A holy believer is a walking sermon. He preaches far more than a minister does, for he preaches all the week round, shaming the unconverted, sharpening the converted, showing to all what grace can do. Such an one does good indeed by his life, and after death what great broad evidences he leaves behind him! We carry him to the grave without one unpleasant doubt! Oh, the value and the power of a growing Christian! The Lord make you and me such!
This is the way to be happy Christians. Happiness is the gift of God— but that there is the closest connection between full following of God and full happiness, let no man for an instant doubt. A hopeful growing believer has the witness within himself. He walks in the full light of the sun, and therefore he generally feels bright and warm. He does not quench the Spirit by continual inconsistencies, and so the fire within him seldom burns low. He has great peace, because he
really loves God's law, and all who see him are obliged to allow that it is a privilege—and not a bondage—to be a Christian. Oh the comfort of a tender conscience, a godly jealousy, a close walk with God—a heavenly frame of mind! The Lord make us all of such a spirit.
And now, dear readers of every class to whom I have spoken, I heartily pray God to bless these pages to your souls. Whether you are one of those for whom I fear—whether you are one of those about whom I doubt—whether you are one of those whom I look at with hope—my heart's desire and prayer is, that you may lay down this book a wiser and better man than when you took it up.
We live in strange times. The world seems getting old and shaking. The shadows are long drawn. The evening appears to be coming on. The night will soon be upon us, when no man can work. Oh, that every reader of these pages would turn in upon himself while it is called today, and consider his own ways. Oh, that each would ask himself the questions—Where am I? What am I? Where am I going? What will be the end of my present course? What is the hope of my soul?
Reader, once more I ask you not to despise my question. Think of it— consider it—pray over it. Oh, that it may take firm hold of your heart, and never leave you! Oh, that it may be to your soul as life from the dead! Time is fast ebbing away! Life is a vast uncertainty! Death is drawing nearer and nearer! Judgment is sure to come! Reader, where are you? Where are you in the sight of God?
I remain, your affectionate friend, J. C. Ryle
Are You Regenerate?
by J. C. Ryle
Reader, I wish to speak to you about Regeneration, or being born again.
The subject is a most important one at any time. Those words of our Lord Jesus Christ to Nicodemus are very solemn, "Unless a man be born again, he cannot see the kingdom of God." (John 3:3.) The world has gone through many changes since those words were spoken. Eighteen hundred years have passed away. Empires and kingdoms have risen and fallen. Great men and wise men have lived, labored, written, and died. But there stands the rule of the Lord Jesus unaltered and unchanged. And there it will stand, until heaven and earth shall pass away—"Unless a man be born again, he cannot see the kingdom of God."
But the subject is one which is doubly important in the present day. Things have happened which have drawn special attention to it. Men's minds are full of it, and men's eyes are fixed on it. Regeneration is discussed in newspapers. Regeneration is talked of in private society. Regeneration is argued about in courts of law. Surely it is a time when every true Christian should examine himself upon the subject, and make sure that his views are sound. It is a time when we should not halt between two opinions. We should try to know what we hold. We should be ready to give a reason for our belief. When the truth is assailed, those who love truth should grasp it more firmly than ever. Oh, for a greater spirit of decision throughout the land! Oh, for a more hearty determination to be always on the Lord's side!
Reader, I invite you to listen to me, while I try to bring this disputed question before you. I feel deeply that I can tell you nothing new. I know I can say nothing which has not been better said by better men than myself. But every additional witness may be of use in a disputed cause. And if I can only throw a little Scripture light on the subject of Regeneration, and make it plain to plain readers of the Bible, I shall thank God, and be abundantly satisfied. What are the opinions of men to you or me? He who judges us is the Lord! One point has to be ascertained, and only one. "What do the Scripture of truth say?"
Now I propose to attempt three things—
1. Firstly, to explain what Regeneration, or being born again, means.
II. Secondly, to show the necessity of Regeneration.
III. Thirdly, to point out the marks and evidences of Regeneration.
If the Lord God shall enable me to make these three points clear to you, I believe I shall have done your soul a great service.
I. Let me then, first of all, explain what Regeneration, or being born again, means.
Regeneration means, that change of heart and nature which a man goes through when he becomes a true Christian.
I think there can be no question that there is an immense difference among those who profess and call themselves Christians. Beyond all dispute, there are always two classes in the outward Church—the class of those who are Christians in name and form only, and the class of those who are Christians in deed and in truth. All were not Israel who were called Israel, and all are not Christians who are called Christians. "In the visible Church," says an article of the Church of England, "the evil be ever mingled with the good."
Some, as the Thirty-nine Articles say, are "wicked and void of a lively faith." Others, as another article says, "are made like the image of God's only-begotten Son, Jesus Christ, and walk piously in good works." Some worship God as a mere form—and some in spirit and in truth. Some give their hearts to God—and some give them to the world. Some believe the Bible, and live as if they believed it—others do not. Some feel their sins, and mourn over them—others do not. Some love Christ, trust in Him, and serve Him—others do not. In short, as Scripture says, some walk in the narrow way—some in the broad way; some are the good fish of the Gospel net—some are the bad fish; some are the wheat in Christ's field—some are the tares.
I think no man with his eyes open can fail to see all this, both in the Bible, and in the world around him. Whatever he may think about the subject I am writing of, he cannot possibly deny that this difference exists.
Now what is the explanation of the difference? I answer unhesitatingly— Regeneration, or being born again. I answer, that true Christians are what they are, because they are Regenerate; and formal Christians are what they are, because they are not Regenerate. The heart of the true Christian has been changed. The heart of the Christian in name only, has not been changed. The change of heart makes the whole difference.
This change of heart is spoken of continually in the Bible, under various emblems and figures—
Ezekiel calls it, "a taking away the stony heart, and giving an heart of flesh;"—"a giving a new heart, and putting within us a new spirit." (Ezek. 11:19; 36:26.)
The apostle John sometimes calls it, being "born of God," sometimes, being "born again," sometimes, being "born of the Spirit." (John 1:13; 3:3-6.)
The apostle Peter, in the Acts, calls it "repenting and being converted." (Acts3:19.)
The Epistle to the Romans speaks of it as a "being alive from the dead." (Rom. 6:13.)
The second Epistle to the Corinthians calls it "being a new creature— old things have passed away, and all things become new." (2 Cor. 5:17.)
The Epistle to the Ephesians speaks of it as a resurrection together with Christ—"You has He quickened who were dead in trespasses and sins" (Ephes. 2:1); as "a putting off the old man, which is corrupt —being renewed in the spirit of our minds—and putting on the new man, which after God is created in righteousness and true holiness." (Ephes. 4:22, 24.)
The Epistle to the Colossians calls it a "putting off the old man with his deeds, and putting on the new man, which is renewed in knowledge after the image of Him that created him." (Coloss. 3:9, 10.)
The Epistle to Titus calls it, "the washing of Regeneration and renewing of the Holy Spirit." (Titus 3:5.)
The first Epistle of Peter speaks of it as "a being called out of darkness into God's marvelous light." (1 Peter 2:9.) And the second Epistle as "being made partakers of the divine nature." (2 Peter 1:4.)
The first Epistle of John calls it a "passing from death to life." (1 John 3:14.)
All these expressions come to the same thing in the end. They are all the same truths only viewed from different sides. And all have one and the same meaning. They describe a great radical change of heart and nature—a thorough alteration and transformation of the whole inner man—a participation in the resurrection life of Christ—or, to
borrow the words of the Church of England Catechism, "a death unto sin and a new birth unto righteousness."
This change of heart in a true Christian is so complete, that no word could be chosen more fitting to express it than that word, "Regeneration," or "new birth." Doubtless it is no outward, bodily alteration—but undoubtedly it is an entire alteration of the inner man. It adds no new faculties to a man's mind—but it certainly gives an entirely new bent and bias to all his old ones. His will is so new, his tastes so new, his opinions so now, his views of sin, the world, the Bible, and Christ so new, that he is to all intents and purposes a new man. The change seems to bring a new being into existence. It may well be called being born again.
This change is not always given to believers at the same time in their lives. A vast multitude of people it is to be feared, go down to the grave without having been born again at all.
This change of heart does not always begin in the same way. With some, like the apostle Paul, and the jailor at Philippi, it is a sudden and violent change, attended with much distress of mind. With others, like Lydia of Thyatira, it is more gentle and gradual— their winter becomes spring almost without their knowing how. With some the change is brought about by the Spirit working through afflictions or providential visitations. With others, and probably the greater number of true Christians, the Word of God, preached or written, is the means of effecting it.*
* "The preaching of the Word is the great means which God has appointed for Regeneration—'faith comes by hearing, and hearing by the Word of God.' (Rom. 10:17.) When God first created man, it is said that 'He breathed into his nostrils the breath of life,' but when God new creates man, He breathes into his ears. This is the Word that raises the dead, calling them out of the grave—this is that Word that opens the eyes of the blind, that turns the heart of the disobedient and rebellious. And though wicked and profane men
scoff at preaching, and count all ministers' words, and God's words too—but so much wind, yet they are such wind, believe it, as is able to tear rocks and rend mountains; such winds, as if ever they are saved, must shake and overturn the foundations of all their carnal confidence and presumption. Be exhorted, therefore, more to prize and more to frequent the preaching of the Word."—Hopkins. 1670.
This change is one which can only be known and discerned by its effects. Its beginnings are a hidden and secret thing. We cannot see them. Our Lord Jesus Christ tells us this most plainly —"The wind blows where it wills, and you hear the sound thereof— but cannot tell whence it comes or where it goes; so is everyone that is born of the Spirit." (John 3:8.) Would you know if you are Regenerate? You must try the question, by examining what you know of the effects of Regeneration. Those effects are always the same. The ways by which true Christians are led, in passing through their great change, are certainly various. But the state of heart and soul into which they are brought at last, is always the same. Ask them what they think of sin, Christ, holiness, the world, the Bible, and prayer, and you will find them all of one mind.
This change is one which no man can give to himself, nor yet to another. It would be as reasonable to expect the dead to raise themselves, or to require an artist to give a marble statue life. The sons of God are "born not of blood, nor of the will of the flesh, nor of the will of man—but of God." (John 1:13.) Sometimes the change is ascribed to God the Father—"The God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ has begotten us again unto a living hope." (1 Peter 1:3.) Sometimes it is ascribed to God the Son—"The Son quickens whom He will." (John 3:21.) "If you know that He is righteous, you know that everyone that does righteousness is born of Him." (1 John 2:29.) Sometimes it is ascribed to the Spirit—and He, in fact, is the great agent by whom it is always effected—"That which is born of the Spirit is Spirit." (John 3:6.) But man has no power to work the change. It is something far, far beyond his reach. "The condition of man after the fall of Adam," says the tenth Article of the Church of
England, "is such that he cannot turn and prepare himself by his own natural strength and good works, to faith and calling upon God." No minister on earth can convey grace to any one of his congregation at his discretion. He may preach as truly and faithfully as Paul or Apollos—but God must give the increase. (1 Cor. 3:6.) He may baptize with water in the name of the Trinity—but unless the Holy Spirit accompanies and blesses the ordinance, there is no death unto sin, and no new birth unto righteousness. Jesus alone, the great Head of the Church, can baptize with the Holy Spirit. Blessed and happy are they, who have the inward baptism, as well as the outward.*
* "The Scripture teaches, that no more than a child can beget itself, or a dead man quicken himself, or a nonentity create itself; no more can any carnal man regenerate himself, or work true saving grace in his own soul."—Hopkins. 1670.
"There are two kinds of baptism, and both necessary—the one interior, which is the cleansing of the heart, the drawing of the Father, the operation of the Holy Spirit—and this baptism is in man when he believes and trusts that Christ is the only method of his salvation."—Hooper. 1547.
"It is on all parts gladly confessed, that there may be, in divers cases, life by virtue of inward baptism, where outward is not found."— Hooper. 1592.
"There is a baptism of the Spirit as of water."—Jeremy Taylor. 1660.
Reader, I lay before you the foregoing account of Regeneration. I say it is that change of heart which is the distinguishing mark of a true Christian man—the invariable companion of a justifying faith in Christ—the inseparable consequence of vital union with him. and the root and beginning of inward sanctification. I ask you to ponder it well before you go any further. It is of the utmost importance that
your views should be clear upon this point—what Regeneration really is.
I know well that many will not allow that Regeneration is what I have described it to be. They will think the statement I have made, by way of definition, much too strong. Some hold that Regeneration only means admission into a state of ecclesiastical privileges—being made a member of the Church—but does not mean a change of heart. Some tell us that a Regenerate man has a certain power within him which enables him to repent and believe if he thinks fit—but that he still needs a further change in order to make him a true Christian. Some say there is a difference between Regeneration and being born again. Others say there is a difference between being born again and conversion.
To all this I have one simple reply—and that is, I can find no such Regeneration spoken of anywhere in the Bible. A Regeneration which only means admission into a state of ecclesiastical privileges may be ancient and primitive, for anything I know. But something more than this is needed. A few plain texts of Scripture are needed; and these texts have yet to be found.
Such a notion of Regeneration is utterly inconsistent with that which John gives us in his first epistle. It renders it necessary to invent the awkward theory that there are two Regenerations, and is thus eminently calculated to confuse the minds of unlearned people, and introduce false doctrine. It is a notion which seems not to answer to the solemnity with which our Lord introduces the subject to Nicodemus. When He said, "Verily, verily, unless a man be born again, he cannot see the kingdom of God," did He only mean, unless a man be admitted to a state of ecclesiastical privilege? Surely He meant more than this. Such a Regeneration a man might have, like Simon Magus, and yet never be saved. Such a Regeneration He might never have, like the penitent thief, and yet see the kingdom of God. Surely He must have meant a change of heart. As to the notion that there is any distinction between being Regenerate and being born
again, it is one which will not bear examination. It is the general opinion of all who know Greek, that the two expressions mean one and the same thing.
To me indeed there seems to be much confusion of ideas, and indistinctness of apprehension in men's minds on this simple point— what Regeneration really is—and all arising from not simply adhering to the Word of God. That a man is admitted into a state of great privilege when he is made a member of a pure Church of Christ, I do not for an instant deny. That he is in a far better and more advantageous position for his soul, than if he did not belong to the Church, I make no question. That a wide door is set open before his soul, which is not set before the poor heathen, I can most clearly see. But I do not see that the Bible ever calls this Regeneration. And I cannot find a single text in Scripture which warrants the assumption that it is so. It is very important in theology to distinguish things that differ. Church privileges are one thing. Regeneration is another. I, for one, dare not confound them.
I am quite aware that great and good men have clung to that low view of Regeneration, to which I have adverted.* But when a doctrine of the everlasting Gospel is at stake, I can call no man master. The words of the old philosopher are never to be forgotten—"I love Plato, I love Socrates—but I love truth better than either." I say unhesitatingly, that those who hold the view that there are two Regenerations, can bring forward no plain text in proof of it. I firmly believe that no plain reader of the Bible only, would ever find this view there for himself; and that goes very far to make me suspect it is an idea of man's invention. The only Regeneration that I can see in Scripture is, not a change of state—but a change of heart. That is the view, I once more assert, which the Church Catechism takes when it speaks of the "death unto sin, and new birth unto righteousness," and on that view I take my stand.
* For instance, Bishop Davenant and Bishop Hopkins frequently speak of "a sacramental Regeneration,' when they are handling the
subject of baptism, as a thing entirely distinct from spiritual Regeneration. The general tenor of their writings is to speak of the godly as the regenerate, and the ungodly as the unregenerate. But with every feeling of respect for two such good men, the question yet remains—What Scripture warrant have we for saying there are two Regenerations? I answer unhesitatingly—We have none at all.
Reader, the doctrine before you is one of vital importance. This is no matter of names, and words, and forms, about which I am writing, and you are reading. It is a thing that you and I must feel and know by experience, each for himself, if we are to be saved. Try, I beseech you, to become acquainted with it. Let not the din and smoke of controversy draw off your attention from your own heart. Is that heart changed? Alas, it is poor work to wrangle, and argue, and dispute about Regeneration, if after all we know nothing about it within.
Reader, Regeneration, or new birth, is the distinguishing mark of every true Christian. Now just consider what I say. Are you Regenerate, or are you not?
II. Let me show you, in the second place, the NECESSITY there is for our being Regenerated, or born again.
That there is such a necessity is most plain from our Lord Jesus Christ's words in the third chapter of John's Gospel. Nothing can be more clear and positive than His language to Nicodemus—"Unless a man be born again, he cannot see the kingdom of God." "Marvel not that I said unto you, You must be born again." (John 3:7.)
The reason of this necessity is the exceeding sinfulness and corruption of our natural hearts. The words of Paul to the Corinthians are literally accurate—"The natural man receives not the things of the Spirit of God, for they are foolishness unto him." (1 Cor. 2:14.) Just as rivers flow downward, and sparks fly upward, and stones fall to the ground, so does a man's heart naturally incline to
what is evil. We love our soul's enemies—we dislike our soul's friends. We call good evil, and we call evil good. We take pleasure in ungodliness, we take no pleasure in Christ. We not only commit sin— but we also love sin. We not only need to be cleansed from the guilt of sin—but we also need to be delivered from its power. The natural tone, bias, and current, of our minds, must be completely altered. The image of God, which sin has blotted out, must be restored. The disorder and confusion which reigns within us must be put down. The first things must no longer be last, and the last first. The Spirit must let in the light on our hearts, put everything in its right place, and create all things new.
It ought always to be remembered that there are two distinct things which the Lord Jesus Christ does for every sinner whom He undertakes to save. He washes him from his sins in His own blood, and gives him a free pardon—this is his justification. He puts the Holy Spirit into his heart, and makes him an entire new man—this is his Regeneration.
The two things are both absolutely necessary to salvation. The change of heart is as necessary as the pardon; and the pardon is as necessary as the change. Without the pardon we have no right or title to heaven. Without the change we would not be fit and ready to enjoy heaven, even if we got there.
The two things are never separate. They are never found apart. Every justified man is also a Regenerate man, and every Regenerate man is also a justified man. When the Lord Jesus Christ gives a man remission of sins, He also gives him repentance. When He grants peace with God, He also grants power to become a son of God. There are two great standing maxims of the glorious Gospel, which ought never to be forgotten. One is, "He who believes not shall be damned." (Mark 16:16.) The other is, "If any man has not the Spirit of Christ, he is none of His." (Rom. 8:9.)
Reader, the man who denies the universal necessity of Regeneration, can know very little of the heart's corruption. He is blind indeed who fancies that pardon is all we need in order to get to heaven, and does not see that pardon without a change of heart would be a useless gift. Blessed be God that both are freely offered to us in Christ's Gospel, and that Jesus is able and willing to give the one as well as the other.
Surely you must be aware that the vast majority of people in the world see nothing, feel nothing, and know nothing in religion as they ought. How and why is this, is not the present question. I only put it to your conscience—is it not the fact?
Tell them of the sinfulness of many things which they are doing continually—and what is generally the reply? "They see no harm."
Tell them of the awful peril in which their souls are—of the shortness of time—the nearness of eternity—the uncertainty of life— the reality of judgment. "They feel no danger."
Tell them of their need of a Savior—mighty, loving, and divine, and of the impossibility of being saved from hell, except by faith in Him. It all falls flat and dead on their ears. "They see no such great barrier between themselves and heaven."
Tell them of holiness, and the high standard of living which the Bible requires. They cannot comprehend the need of such strictness. "They see no use in being so very good."
There are thousands and tens of thousands of such people on every side of us. They will hear these things all their lives. They will even attend the ministry of the most striking preachers, and listen to the most powerful appeals to their consciences. And yet, when you come to visit them on their deathbeds, they are like men and women who never heard these things at all. They know nothing of the leading doctrines of the Gospel by experience. They can render no reason whatever of their own hope.
And why is all this? What is the explanation—what is the cause of such a state of things? It all comes from this—that man naturally has no sense of spiritual things. In vain the sun of righteousness shines before him—the eyes of his soul are blind, and cannot see. In vain the music of Christ's invitations sounds around him—the ears of his soul are deaf and cannot hear it. In vain the wrath of God against sin is set forth—the perceptions of his soul are stopped up—like the sleeping traveler, he does not perceive the coming storm. In vain the bread and water of life are offered to him—his soul is neither hungry for the one, nor thirsty for the other. In vain he is advised to flee to the Great Physician—his soul is unconscious of its disease—why should he go? In vain you put a price into his hand to buy wisdom—the mind of his soul wanders; he is like the lunatic who calls straws a crown, and dust diamonds—he says, "I am rich, and increased with goods, and have need of nothing." Ah, reader, there is nothing so sad as the utter corruption of our nature! There is nothing so painful as the anatomy of a dead soul.
Now what does such a man need? He needs to be born again, and made a new creature. He needs a complete putting off the old man, and a complete putting on the new. We do not live our natural life until we are born into the world; and we do not live our spiritual life until we are born of the Spirit.
But, reader, you must furthermore be aware that the vast majority of people are utterly unfit to enjoy heaven in their present state. I lay it before you as a great fact. Is it not so?
Look at the masses of men and women gathered together in our cities and towns, and observe them well. They are all dying creatures —all immortal beings—all going to the judgment seat of Christ—all certain to live forever in heaven or in hell. But where is the slightest evidence that most of them are in the least degree fit and ready for heaven?
Look at the greater part of those who are called Christians, in every part throughout the land. Take any parish you please in town or country. Take that which you know best. What are the tastes and pleasures of the majority of people who live there? What do they like best, when they have a choice? What do they enjoy most, when they can have their own way? Observe the manner in which they spend their Sundays. Mark how little delight they seem to feel in the Bible and prayer. Take notice of the low and earthly notions of pleasure and happiness, which everywhere prevail, among young and old, among rich and poor. Mark well these things, and then think quietly over this question—"What would these people do in heaven?"
You and I, it may be said, know little about heaven. Our notions of heaven may be very dim and indistinct. But at all events, I suppose we are agreed in thinking that heaven is a very holy place—that God is there—and Christ is there—and saints and angels are there—that sin is not there in any shape—and that nothing is said, thought, or done, which God does not like. Only let this be granted, and then I think there can be no doubt the great majority of professing Christians are as little fit for heaven as a bird for swimming beneath the sea, or a fish for living upon dry land.
And what is it they need in order to make them fit to enjoy heaven? They need to be Regenerated or born again. It is not a little changing and outward amendment they require. It is not merely the putting a restraint on raging passions, and the quieting of unruly affections. All this is not enough. Old age—the lack of opportunity for indulgence—the fear of man, may produce all this. The tiger is still a tiger, even when he is chained; and the serpent is still a serpent, even when he lies motionless and coiled up. The alteration needed is far greater and deeper. They must have a new nature put within them. They must be made new creatures. The fountain-head must be purified. The root must be set right. Each one needs a new heart and a new will. The change required is not that of the snake, when he casts his skin and yet remains a reptile still. It is the change of the caterpillar, when he dies and his crawling life ceases—but from his
body rises the butterfly—a new animal, with a new nature. All this, and nothing less, is required.
The plain truth is, the vast proportion of professing Christians in the churches have nothing whatever of Christianity, except the name. The reality of Christianity, the graces, the experience, the faith, the hopes, the life, the conflict, the tastes, the hungering and thirsting after righteousness—all these are things of which they know nothing at all. They need to be converted as truly as any among the heathen to whom Paul preached, and to be turned from idols, and renewed in the spirit of their minds, as really, if not as literally. And one main part of the message which should be continually delivered to the greater portion of every congregation on earth, is this—"You must be born again." I write this down deliberately. I know it will sound dreadful and uncharitable in many ears. But I ask anyone to take the New Testament in his hand and see what it says is Christianity, and compare that with the ways of professing Christians, and then deny the truth of what I have written, if he can.
And now let everyone who reads these pages remember this grand principle of Scriptural religion—"No salvation without Regeneration—no spiritual life without a new birth—no heaven without a new heart."
Think not for a moment that the subject of this tract is a mere matter of controversy—an empty question for learned men to argue about— but not one that concerns you. Away with such an idea forever! It concerns you deeply. It touches your own eternal interests. It is a thing that you must know for yourself, feel for yourself, and experience for yourself, if you would ever be saved. No man, woman, or child, will ever enter heaven without having been born again.*
* "Make sure to yourselves this great change. It is no notion that I have now preached unto you. Your natures and your lives must be changed, or, believe it, you will be found at the last day under the
wrath of God. For God will not change or alter the Word that is gone out of His mouth. He has said it—Christ, who is the truth and Word of God, has pronounced it—that without the new birth, or Regeneration, no man shall inherit the kingdom of God."—Hopkins. 1670.
And think not for one moment that this Regeneration is a change which people may go through after they are dead, though they never went through it while they were alive. Away with such a notion forever! Now or never is the only time to be saved. Now, in this world of toil and labor—of money—getting and business—now you must be prepared for heaven, if you are ever to be prepared at all. Now is the only time to be justified, now the only time to be sanctified, and now the only time to be born again. So sure as the Bible is true, the man who dies without these three things, will only rise again at the last day to be lost forever.
You may be saved, and reach heaven without many things which men reckon of great importance—without riches, without learning, without books, without worldly comforts, without health, without house, without land, without friends—but without Regeneration you will never be saved at all. Without your natural birth you would never have lived, and moved on earth; without a new birth you will never live and move in heaven. I bless God that the saints in glory will be a multitude that no man can number. I comfort myself with the thought that, after all, there will be "a great multitude" in heaven. But this I know and am persuaded of from God's Word, that of all who reach heaven, there will not be one single individual who has not been born again.*
* "Regeneration, or the new birth, is of absolute necessity unto eternal life. There is no other change simply necessary—but only this. If you are poor, you may so continue, and yet be saved. If you are despised, you may so continue, and yet be saved. If you are unlearned, you may so continue, and yet be saved. Only one change is necessary. If you are wicked and ungodly and continued so, Christ,
who has the keys of heaven, who shuts and no man opens, has Himself doomed you, that you shall never enter into the kingdom of God."—Hopkins. 1670.
"Are you born again?" I say to everyone whose eye is upon this page. Once more I repeat what I have already said, "No salvation without a new birth."
III. Let me, in the third place, point out the MARKS of being Regenerate, or born again.
It is a most important thing to have clear and distinct views on this part of the subject we are considering. You have seen what Regeneration is, and why it is necessary to salvation. The next step is to find out the signs and evidences by which a man may know whether he is born again or not—whether his heart has been changed by the Holy Spirit, or whether his change is yet to come.
Now these signs and evidences are laid down plainly for us in Scripture. God has not left us in ignorance on this point. He foresaw how some would torture themselves with doubts and questionings, and would never believe it was well with their souls. He foresaw how others would take it for granted they were Regenerate who had no right to do so at all. He has therefore mercifully provided us with a test and gauge of our spiritual condition, in the First Epistle general of John. There He has written for our learning, what the Regenerate man is, and what the Regenerate man does—his ways, his habits, his manner of life, his faith, his experience. Everyone who wishes to possess the key to a right understanding of this subject, should thoroughly study this First Epistle of John.
Reader, I invite your particular attention to these marks and evidences of Regeneration, while I try to set them before you in order. Forget everything else in this volume, if you will—but do not forget this part of it. I might easily mention other evidences besides those I am about to mention. But I will not do so. I would rather
confine myself to the First Epistle of John, because of the peculiar explicitness of its statements about the man that is born of God. He that has an ear, let him hear what the beloved Apostle says about the marks of Regeneration.
1. First of all, John says, "No one born of God makes a practice of sinning, for God's seed abides in him, and he cannot keep on sinning because he has been born of God." "We know that everyone who has been born of God does not keep on sinning." (1 John 3:9; 5:18.)
A Regenerate man does not commit sin as a habit. He no longer sins with his heart and will, and whole inclination, as an unregenerate man does. There was probably a time when he did not think whether his actions were sinful or not, and never felt grieved after doing evil. There was no quarrel between him and sin—they were friends. Now he hates sin, flees from it, fights against it, counts it his greatest plague, groans under the burden of its presence, mourns when he falls under its influence, and longs to be delivered from it altogether. In one word, sin no longer pleases him, nor is even a matter of indifference—it has become the abominable thing which he hates. He cannot prevent it dwelling within him. "If he said he had no sin, there would be no truth in him" (1 John 1:8)—but he can say that he keenly abhors it, and the great desire of his soul is not to commit sin at all. He cannot prevent bad thoughts arising within him, and shortcomings, omissions, and defects appearing, both in his words and actions. He knows, as James says, that "In many things we offend all." (James 3:2.) But he can say truly, and as in the sight of God, that these things are a daily grief and sorrow to him, and that his whole nature does not consent unto them, as that of the unregenerate man does. Reader, I place this mark before you. What would the Apostle say about you? Are you born of God?*