Part 15
Lastly, There is at such a season oftentimes a pouring out of the soul before God with some freedom in the gift, as well as the grace of prayer. Mere sighs and groans are for persons at a distance; but when we get near to God, we speak to him even in his ear; and the heart is full, and the tongue overflows. I grant there may be the spirit of prayer assisting a poor soul that cannot get near to God, but still cries after him when he is hidden, and expresses itself only in sighs and in groans unutterable; so the apostle tells us; Rom. viii. 26. _The spirit itself maketh intercession in us with groanings that cannot be uttered._ And thus it may be, while God hides himself, while there is a veil concealing God from our eyes, while there is any special temptation like a mountain that separates between God and our souls, he may send his Spirit to work us up to earnest desires and longings after him.
But when this SPIRIT OF PRAYER has brought the soul near, when God has been pleased to turn aside the veil, to remove the mountain, and to discover himself in all his glory, beauty, and love, then there will be generally the gift of prayer also in exercise by the assistance of the promised Spirit; and such persons many times are able to address themselves to God with much freedom, and to pour out the soul before God in proper words, notwithstanding at other times they appear to have but weak capacities. When they have such affecting sights of their own sin and guilt, and such surprizing views of the mercy of God manifested to them in particular, and at the same time when they look upon all things round them with a design for the glory of God; they are both naturally and divinely taught to pour out their souls before God, and represent their cares and circumstances to him in affecting language.
I will not say indeed, it is always so when any soul gets near to God; there must be some allowance made for the different tempers and constitutions, as I shall shew immediately. There have also been some instances of holy men, whose voice has, at such a time, been overpowered with divine pleasure, all their powers have been transported and overwhelmed with rapturous silence; but for the most part holy souls have found an uncommon liberty of language at the throne of grace at such seasons. And this is one reason, I am persuaded, why the gift of prayer is not so common a thing as might be wished, because there is so little nearness to God among the professors of our day. The gift of prayer abounds not among christians in our churches; O that I could say it was found more gloriously among ministers, while in your name we speak to the great God! But if there were a constant laborious diligence in the soul to get nearer to God, in all our secret as well as public addresses to him, we should find more abundance of the gift of prayer poured down upon us by the Spirit, as well as brighter evidences of every praying grace.
I must conclude this discourse before I proceed to the other heads which were proposed; but I would not willingly leave it without a caution or two, and one reflection. The first caution is this: Let not the humble mourning christian, who walks carefully with God, under much darkness and fear, charge himself with utter distance and estrangement from the throne of grace, because he does not feel all these sacred passions and powers of nature in lively exercise, while he bows his knees before the Lord: for I have described this blessed privilege in the sublime glory and beauty of it, so as it has been often attained and enjoyed by persons eminent in grace and religion, and especially such as have had lively affections, and the powers of animal nature in a good degree sanctified, and subservient to the devotions of the soul. But where the natural spirits are low and sinking, and where temptations and darkness hang heavy upon the mind, the christian may truly draw near to God, so far as to find a gracious acceptance with him, and may fetch secret divine communications from the mercy-seat to maintain his spiritual life; though he feels but little of these sensations of heavenly pleasure, these more vigorous efforts of devotions and joy. Yet let him neither deny nor despise those more elevated enjoyments of soul, those near and blessed approaches to the seat of God, with which others have been favoured.
The second caution shall be addressed to those, who feel much of rapture and transport in their hours of secret piety. I entreat that they would not imagine themselves so often to enjoy this unspeakable privilege of holy nearness to God in worship, if they do not sensibly find such an increase of holiness, as may prove effectually that they have been with God. If they have been conversing with their Maker, like Moses on the mount, there will be a shine of holiness upon the face of their souls. To pretend therefore to have enjoyed much of God in the closet, and to come down amongst men peevish and fretful, or immediately to betray a carnal and covetous, or a haughty and untractable spirit; these are things of so inconsistent a nature, that the succeeding iniquity spoils the devotion, and almost destroys the pretence to any sublime degrees of it. Such persons had need look well to themselves and make a narrow search within, whether their hearts be sincere with God or no, lest they build all their hopes upon the flashy efforts of animal nature, coupled with the thoughts of some sacred objects, and tacked on to a divine meditation.
Reflection.—What a wretched hindrance is this world to our christian profit and pleasure! How often does it keep the soul at a sad distance from God! With what difficulty and uneasy reluctance, are we sometimes drawn, or rather dragged into retirement, that the soul may seek after God there? How many excuses doth the flesh borrow from the cares and necessities of this life, to delay, or to divert the duty of prayer? Our memory, our imagination, and our senses, are faithful purveyors and treasurers for the world; they are representing to us the things of this present state, the trifles or the businesses, the cares or amusements of it, the labours or delights which relate to this life; and thereby we are diverted and separated from God, and called away from him often, as soon as we begin to approach his presence.
What a pernicious enemy is this flesh to the soul, both in the pleasures and the pains of it! and this world, both in the flatteries and the frowns of it, and even in its necessary cares! When we would give our God the upper-room in our hearts, how is this world ready to get the ascendant! How often does it break in upon our most sacred retirements, and thrust itself, with all its impertinencies, into our holy meditations? How often does it spread a carnal scene all over our thoughts at once, and spoil our devoutest hours? “I cannot dwell so long in my closet as I would, says a christian, the world has such importunate demands upon me.” The world follows us, into our places of retirement; the exchange, or the shop, presses into the temple, and robs God even to his face.
Let us then have a care of the flesh: let us have a care of this world; we must be watchful over them as our most subtle and dangerous enemies, if we would keep our souls near to God, or often enjoy this divine privilege. Blessed Enoch! who could walk with God in the midst of all the busy and vicious scenes of the old world! and he was translated to heaven, without calling at the gates of death, that he might give a glorious testimony to men how well God was pleased with him. Happy soul! that could keep near to God, and maintain a holy and humble converse with him, when all flesh had corrupted its way and the earth was full of iniquity and violence! Blessed man, who knew not what it was to die, but he knew what it was to be near to God; and his faith and his devotion were changed the shortest way into sight and enjoyment! Happy spirit! who without being absent at all from the body, was brought near to the seat of divine Majesty, and in the fullest manner present with the Lord!
HYMN FOR SERMON V. _The Soul drawing near to God in prayer._
My God, I bow before thy feet, When shall my soul get near thy seat? When shall I see thy glorious face, With mingled majesty and grace?
How shall I love thee and adore, With hopes and joys unknown before! And bid this trifling world begone, Nor teaze my heart so near thy throne!
Creatures with all their charms should fly, The presence of a God so nigh: My darling sins should lose their name, And grow my hatred and my shame.
My soul shall pour out all her cares, In flowing words, or flowing tears! Thy smiles would ease my sharpest pain Nor should I seek my God in vain.
SERMON VI. _Sins and Sorrows spread before God._ Job xxiii. 3, 4.—O that I knew where I might find him: that I might come even to his seat; I would order my cause before him, and fill my mouth with arguments. THE SECOND PART.
There is such a thing as converse with God in prayer, and it is the life and pleasure of a pious soul; without it we are no christians: and he that practises it most, is the best follower of Christ: for our Lord spent much time in converse with his heavenly Father. This is balm that eases the most raging pains of the mind, when the wounded conscience comes to the mercy-seat, and finds pardon and peace there. This is the cordial that revives and exalts our natures, when the spirit, broken with sorrows, and almost fainting to death, draws near to the Almighty Physician, and is healed and refreshed. The mercy-seat in heaven is our surest and sweetest refuge in every hour of distress and darkness on earth: This is our daily support and relief, while we are passing through a world of temptations and hardships in the way to the promised land. _It is good for us to draw near to God_: Ps. lxxiii. 28. And yet so much is human nature sunk down and fallen from God, that even his own children are ready to indulge a neglect of converse with him, if their souls are not always upon the watch. But let it be remembered here, that so much as we abate of this divine entertainment among the vanities or amusements of the world, the business or burdens of life; so much we lose of the glory and joy of religion, and deprive our souls of the comfort that God invites us to receive. Job was encompassed with sorrows all around, and his friends had censured him as a vile hypocrite, and a great sinner, because he was so terribly afflicted by the hand of God; whither should he run now but to his heavenly Father, and tell him of all his sufferings.
From the practice of this holy man, I thought we might have sufficient warrant to draw this inference, _viz._ That when a saint gets near to God in prayer, he tells him all his circumstances, and pleads for help. And that is the doctrine which I am endeavouring now to improve. “O if I could but come near him, even to his seat, I would order my cause before him: I would spread all my concerns before his eye, and I would plead with him for relief: I would fill my mouth with arguments.”
Four things I proposed in the prosecution of this doctrine.—I. To consider what it is for a soul to get near to God in prayer.—II. What
## particular subjects doth a soul, thus brought near to the mercy-seat,
converse with God about.—III. Why he chuses to tell all his circumstances and his sorrows to God, when he is thus near him.—IV. How he pleads for relief.
I. We have already considered, what it is for a soul to get near to the seat of God, and what are the usual attendants of such a privilege. At such a season the holy soul will have an awful and adoring sense of the majesty of God, a becoming fear of his terrors, and some sweeter taste of his love. There will be a divine hatred of every sin, and a sensible virtue and influence proceeding from a present God, to resist every temptation; there will be a spiritual and heavenly temper diffusing itself through the whole soul, and all the powers of it; a fixedness of heart without wandering, and a liveliness without tiring: no weariness is felt in the spirit at such a season, even though the flesh may be ready to faint under the overpowering sweetness: then the soul with freedom opens itself before the eye of God, and melts and flows in divine language, whether it complain or rejoice. But I have finished this head, and repeat no more.
II. What are some of the particular circumstances, or subjects of complaint, that a saint brings to God when he comes near him.
In general, a saint, when he is near to God, has all the fulness of his heart breaking out into holy language; he pours out his whole self before his God and his Father! All the infinite affairs that relate to the flesh and spirit, to this life, and that which is to come: all things in heaven, and all things in earth, created or uncreated, may, at one time or other, be the subjects of converse between God and a holy soul. When the question is asked by a carnal man, what can a christian talk with God so long and so often about? The christian in a divine frame, answers, “he hath matter enough for converse with God, to wear out time, and to fill up eternity.” It may be as well asked on the other side, what has he not to say? what is there that relates to God, or to himself, to the upper, or the lower world, that he may not at some time say to his God?
But I must confine myself from wandering in so large a field, that I may comport with the design of my text. Though a good man, in devout prayer, often spreads his hopes and his joys before the Lord, as well as his sorrows, fears, and distresses; yet I shall at present endeavour to set forth only the mournful and complaining representations of his circumstances that he makes before the throne of God.
1. If I could but come near the mercy-seat, I would confess how great my sins are, and I would pray for pardoning grace. I would say, “How vile I am by nature;” I would count my original descent from Adam the great transgressor, and humble myself at the foot of a holy God, because I am the descendant of such a sinner.—I would tell him how much viler I have made myself by practice; “I have been an enemy in my mind by nature, and guilty of many wicked works, whereby I have farther estranged myself from him.” I would tell my God how multiplied my transgressions have been before I knew him, and how aggravated they have been since I have been acquainted with him. I would acquaint him with the frequency of my returning guilt, how I have sinned against mercies, against reproofs, against warnings received often from his word, and often from his providence.
I may appeal to the souls of many present, whether they have not had the greatest freedom of confession of their sins, when they have been nearest to God, even though he be a God of holiness. At other times, they have not only been averse to confess to any friend, but even unwilling to talk over to themselves the aggravation of their iniquities, or to mention them in prayer: but when they are brought thus near the throne of God, they unbosom themselves before him, they pour out their sins and their tears together, with a sweet and mournful satisfaction. “I behold,” says the saint, “the great atonement, the blood of Jesus, and therefore I may venture to confess my great iniquities, for the satisfaction is equal to them all. When I behold God upon his seat, I behold the _Lamb in the midst of the throne as it had been slain_, and he is my Peace-maker. I see his all-sufficient sacrifice, his atoning-blood, his perfect, his justifying righteousness.” The soul then answers the call of God with great readiness, when God says in Is. i. 18. _Come let us reason together: though your sins have been as scarlet, they shall be as wool._ “I am ready,” says the soul, “to enter into such reasonings; I am ready to confess before thee, that my sins are all crimson and scarlet, but there is cleansing blood with thy Son: Blood that has washed the garments of a thousand sinners, and made them white as snow; and it has the same virtue still to wash mine too: I trust in it, and rejoice when I behold that blood sprinkled upon the mercy-seat, and therefore I grow confident in hope, and draw yet nearer to God, a reconciled God, since his throne has the memorials of a bleeding sacrifice upon it.”
2. If I could get near the seat of God, I would tell him how many my enemies are, and how strong; how malicious, and how full of rage.——And I would beg strength against them, and victory over them.——I would say as David: _Many there be that hate me, many there be that rise up against me; and many there be that say of my soul, there is no help for him in God; but thou, O God, art my glory, my shield, and the lifter up of head_: Ps. iii. 1, 2, 3. Then says the soul, I would complain to God of all my in-dwelling corruption, of the body of death that dwells in me, or in which I dwell; and say, “O wretched man that I am, who shall deliver me!” I would tell him then of the secret working of pride in my heart, though I long to be humble; of the rising of ambition in my soul, though I would willingly maintain a middle state amongst men, and not aim and aspire to be great.—I would acquaint him of the vanity of my own mind, though I am perpetually endeavouring to subdue it. I would tell him, with tears, of my sinful passions, of my anger and impatience, and the workings of envy and revenge in me; of the perpetual stirrings of disorderly appetites, whereby I am led away from my God: I would tell him of the hardness of my heart, and the obstinacy of my temper. I would open before his eye, all the vices of my constitution; all those secret seeds of iniquity that are ever budding and blossoming to bring forth fruit to death. These things are fit to mourn before the Lord, when the soul is come near to his seat.
I would complain of this sore enemy, the world, that is perpetually besetting me, that strikes upon all my senses, that by the ears, and the eyes, and all the outward faculties, draws my heart away from God my best friend. I would tell him of the rage of Satan, that watchful and malicious adversary; that I cannot engage in any duty of worship, but he is ready to throw in some foolish or vain suggestion to divert me; and I would look forward, and point to my last enemy death, and beg the presence of my God with me, when I walk through that dark valley:—“Lord, when I enter into that conflict, assist me, that I may fear no evil, but be made more than a conqueror through him that has loved me.”
3. I would tell him what darkness I labour under, either in respect of faith or practice. If I am perplexed in my mind, and entangled about any of the doctrines of the gospel, I would then tell my God what my entanglements are, where the difficulty lies; and I would beg, that by his Spirit and his word, he would solve the controversy, and set his own truth before me in his own divine light. And then in point of practice, what darkness lies upon the spirit at such a time, is revealed before God: “My way is hedged up, I know not what path to chuse; it is very hard for me to find out my duty; shew me, O Lord, the way wherein I should walk, and mark out my path plain for me.”
4. I would mourn, and tell him, how little converse I have with himself, how much he is hidden from me: I would complain to him, how far off I am from him the most part of my life, how few are the hours of my communion with him, how short is the visit, how much his face is concealed from me, and how far my heart is divided from him. A soul then says, “Surely there is too great a distance between me and my God, my heavenly Father!” and cries out with bitterness, _Why is God so far from me, and why is my heart so far from God?_ How often do I wait upon him in his own sanctuary, and among his saints, but I am not favoured with the sight _of his power and glory_ there! And how often do I seek him in my secret retirements, but I find him not? I would tell him how often I read his promises in the gospel, and taste no sweetness; I go frequently to those wells of consolation, and they seem to be dry; then _I turn my face and go away ashamed_.
5. I would tell him too of my temporal troubles, if I got near to God, because they unfit me for his service, they make me incapable of honouring him in the world, and render me unfit for enjoying him in his ordinances: I would tell him how they damp my zeal, how they bow my spirit down, and _make me go mourning all the day long_, to the dishonour of christianity, which is a dispensation of grace and joy. Thus I might complain before God of pains, of weakness, of sickness, of the disorders of my flesh; I might complain there too of the weakness of all my powers, the want of memory, the scatterings and confusions that are upon my thoughts, the wanderings of my fancy, and the unhappy influence that a feeble and diseased body has upon the mind: “O my God, how am I divided from thee, by dwelling in such a tabernacle! still patching up a tottering cottage, and wasting my best hours in a painful attendance on the infirmities of the flesh!”