The Communicant's Companion
hope, that though I have not yet attained, neither am already perfect, yet there is a good work begun in me, which shall be performed unto the day of Christ.
Thus we must examine our spiritual state; and, that the trial may come to an issue, we must earnestly pray to God to discover us to ourselves, and must be willing to know the truth of our case: and the result must be this:—
1. If we find cause to fear that our spiritual state is bad, and that we are yet unsanctified and unregenerate, we must give all diligence to get the matter mended. If our state be not good, yet, thanks be to God, it may be made good: "There is hope in Israel concerning this thing." Rest not, therefore, in thy former faint purposes and feeble efforts; but consider more seriously than ever the concerns of thy soul. Pray more seriously than ever for the sanctifying grace of God; put forth thyself more vigorously than ever to improve that grace; resolve more firmly than ever to live a holy life, and depend more closely than ever upon the merit and strength of Jesus
Christ, and I hope thou wilt soon experience a blessed change.
2. If we find cause to hope that our spiritual state is good, we must take the comfort of it, and give God the praise, and not hearken to the tempter when he would disturb our peace, and hinder our progress, by calling it in question. Though we must always abase ourselves, and be jealous over ourselves, yet we must not derogate from the honor of God's grace, nor deny its work in us. God keep us all, both from deceiving ourselves with groundless hopes, and from disquieting ourselves with groundless fears.
II. Inquire, What have I done?—We come to the ordinance of the Lord's
Supper, to receive the remission of our sins, according to the tenor of the new covenant. Now, one thing required of us, in order to peace and pardon, is, that we confess our sins. If we do that, "God is faithful and just to forgive them." But if we cover them, we cannot prosper. Not that we can, by our confessions, inform God of any thing he did not know before, as earthly princes are informed by the confessions of criminals; but thus we must give glory to God, and take shame to ourselves, and strengthen our own guard against sin for the future. In the confession of sin, it is requisite that we be particular; the high priest, on the day of atonement, must confess, over the scapegoat, "all the iniquities of the children of Israel, and all their transgressions in all their sins." It is not enough to say, as Saul, "I have sinned;" but we must say, as David, "I have sinned, and done this evil;" as Achan, "I have sinned, and thus and thus have I done." A broken heart will thereby be more broken, and better prepared to be bound up; a burdened conscience will thereby be eased, as David's was when he said, "I will confess." Commonly, the more particular and free we are in confessing our sins to God, the more comfort we have in the sense of the pardon: deceit lies in generals.
It is therefore necessary, in order to a particular confession of sin, that we "search and try our ways;" that we examine our consciences, look over their records, examine the actions of our past life, and seriously call to mind wherein we have offended God in any thing. The putting of this question is spoken of as the first step towards repentance: "No man repented him of his wickedness, saying, What have I done?" For want of this inquiry duly made, when men are called to return, they baffle the call with that careless question, "Wherein shall we return?" Let us therefore set ourselves to look back, and remember our faults this day: it is better to be minded of them now, when the remembrance of them will open to us a door of hope, than be minded of them in hell, where sin remembered will aggravate an endless despair.
We ought to be often calling ourselves to an account: in the close of every day, of every week, the day's work, the week's work should be reviewed. It is one of the richest of Pythagoras' golden verses, wherein, though a heathen, he advises his pupil, every night before he sleeps, to go over the actions of the day, and revolve them three times in his mind, asking himself seriously these questions:—" Wherein have I transgressed? What have I done? What duty hath been omitted?" The oftener it is done, the easier it is done: even reckonings make long friends. But it is especially necessary that it be done before a sacrament: former reflections made, ought then to be repeated; and with a particular exactness we must consider what our ways have been since we were last renewing our covenants with God at his table, that we may be humbled for the follies to which we have returned since
God spoke peace to us, and may be more particular and steady in our resolutions for the future.
To give some assistance in this inquiry, I shall instance some heads of it.
Let the interrogatories be such as these:—I. How have I employed my thoughts? Has God been in all my thoughts?—It is well if he has been in any. When I awake, am I still with him? Or am I not still with the world and the flesh? When I should have been contemplating the glory of God, the love of Christ, and the great things of the other world, has not my heart been with the fool's eyes in the ends of the earth, "following after lying vanities, and forsaking mine own mercies?" How seldom have I thought seriously, and with any fixedness, on spiritual and divine things? I set myself sometimes to meditate, but I soon break off abruptly, and this treacherous heart starts aside like a broken bow, and nothing that is good is brought to any head; but how have vain and vile thoughts lodged within me, gone out and come in with me, lain down and risen up with me, and