Our text begins with these words, “And not only so.” It is the second time in which they occur in the chapter, I might almost have said the third, for a similar expression is used in another verse. The apostle had been mentioning very great and amazing privileges; he had gone from great benefits to yet greater; he had advanced, I might say, from silver to gold, and from gold to the priceless crystal; and when he had reached the highest point that we could have thought to be conceivable, he adds, “And not only so.” There is always in Christian privilege a yet beyond. The ancient mariners spoke of the pillars of Hercules and the Ultima Thule, and they supposed that when once their sails had whitened the sea in that direction they had come to the end of the universe and could go no further; but, more venturous prows forced their way to a new world, and proved that the former boundaries were imaginary. Even so we may have concluded in the early days of our Christian experience that we never could be happier, that we never could enjoy greater privileges, that there could not be greater treasures than we had discovered; but even at this present we have pushed far beyond our young attainments, and are preparing for yet more far-reaching endeavours. We have not yet attained. Far be it from us to imagine that we are or have all that the Lord intends. Let us not sit down contented with the notion that the gospel contains no more, for rest assured, to him who is able to follow after it there are whole worlds of privilege yet to be discovered. We are only at the foot of the mountain as yet. We may take for our motto the words, “Higher, higher, higher,” and may soar aloft again and again on eagles’ wings, for heaven is higher than our loftiest flight. At the end of all we have known and experienced there may be written, “And not only so.” A nobler future allures us, a higher line of spiritual things invites us; let us by faith and patience press forward to it. The borders of Immanuel’s land have yielded us choice fruit, but the inner valleys are rich with Eshcol clusters, and the brooks in the heart of the country overflow with milk and honey.

The present passage indicates a high attainment in spiritual life, when the soul learns not only to rejoice in salvation-which is an early experience, or to rejoice in tribulation-which is a far riper fruit, but advances even beyond that, and learns to make her joy, her glory, and her boast in God, in God alone. “And not only so, but we joy in God.” There is the point of elevated experience of which the apostle speaks with such confident familiarity. It certainly touches the confines of heaven, if it be not altogether heaven. This is the joy of angels and of spirits purified from all stain; they joy in God. Yet this is an attainment possible to us here. I might confine my thoughts to that subject, but it might be for profit if I use the text in another way, embracing that thought and making it the main topic of discourse, but taking a somewhat wider range. My text seems to me to describe the progress of a soul towards God. There is the first step visible in it, though somewhat in shadow and rather implied than expressed. The second step is very clear; it is “receiving the atonement,” or more correctly “the reconciliation.” The third step shines in a yet brighter light; having received the reconciliation, “we joy in God” and so we complete our fellowship with him, and ascend to an elevation which, if it be not in heaven, lies on the confines of it.

Our text shadows out, by implication at any rate, the first step of a soul in coming to god. It lies here. We begin to be conscious that God is angry with us. The text declares that we have received the reconciliation; there was, therefore, a time when we had not received it, and before we could receive it we were made sensible that we needed it; and before we could be conscious of that need we were led to see that from necessity of his nature God must be angry with such sinful creatures as we were. It is the dawn of grace in the soul when the heart perceives that there is a holy God, and that such a God cannot be on terms of amity with an unholy thing like itself. God is not angry with men arbitrarily because he chooses to take a dislike to them. Oh, no. God is necessarily angry with evil, because he is holy, and pure, and good. A being who has no anger against evil has no love towards goodness. This is one mark of righteousness, that it of necessity takes fire, and burns with indignation against unrighteousness. Now, I may preach this truth to this present congregation, but many when they hear my words will carelessly enquire, “Well, and what concern is that of ours? What mattereth it?” But, if God’s grace has begun a work in any heart, that soul will say, “Alas, alas, how true it is! How could, the great Lawgiver in the heavens suffer me to break his laws with impunity? How could he be God and yet smile on sin? How could he be worthy of the seraphic song, ‘Holy, holy, holy Lord God of Sabaoth,’ and yet look with complacency upon one so unholy, so depraved, so unrighteous as I am by nature?” The awakened soul perceives that, unless God could cease to be God, he could not look with complacency upon sin, nor upon the sinner either, so long its sin lies upon him. This is a discovery which is very painful, but very simple. One would think that every man ought to see this fact, but no man does see it till the Spirit of God convinces him of sin, of righteousness, and of judgment; and even then the natural heart endeavours to shut its eyes to it. That God is angry with us for sin is so unpleasant a thought, that the convinced sinner would, if he could, escape from it. He would willingly take the wings of the morning and fly to the uttermost parts of the sea, that he might escape from his dread of divine wrath for sin; but there is no land of peace for such a soul. A guilty conscience will follow a man like his shadow; it will dog his footsteps, it will embitter his food, it will disturb his sleep, it will molest his waking hours; neither will he be content till by some better method than forgetting it, he shall have escaped from its force. The avenger of blood never ceases to pursue the manslayer till he has gained the city of refuge. That God is justly and of necessity angry with him as a sinner is a thought which haunts every convinced person. If I believed that God was angry with me simply out of arbitrary whim, and that he might not be angry with me if he chose, my heart would harden itself like steel in enmity against him; but, when it comes home to me that he is rightly angry with me, that if I were God I should be angry with such a one as I am, that if I could be perfectly holy as God is I should be equally indignant as God is with sin; then my soul feels the sting of wrath, its justice cuts my conscience to the quick, and makes my heart to bleed. It is a blessed thing when the heart is thus aroused from its fatal slumber, for then there is hope that it will seek out the divinely appointed way of escape from sin.

A second degree of this same step is a consciousness that we also are ourselves at enmity with God. We will not believe that our heart is opposed to God, though the preacher often warns us that it is so, and though the Word of God teaches the same. We will not be brought to admit that our heart is at war with the Lord. “Why,” says one, “I pay respect to God, and go to a place of worship, and therefore I am not at enmity with him.” Only when the Spirit of God comes do we discover that there is in our heart, latent to a great extent, but also very readily developed, an enmity against the living God. Then a man starts, and is astonished at himself. He asks, “Why is it that thoughts of God are unpleasant to me? Why is his day so long, his worship so wearisome, and his book so dull to me? It must be because I do not love the Lord.” In very deed, if a proclamation were made that God had ceased to be, or was no longer holy and just, there are many who would count it the best of news. Alas, man would gladly make an end of his Maker! The awakened heart enquires, “Is it really so, that I am a deicide, and would, if I could, blot God out of existence, and have no God, because then I should be at peace? Is it indeed so?” When the Spirit of God makes the man confess that it is so, then he is amazed indeed, for he did not before know how far he had fallen. Now I am certain that if I could assure you upon solid grounds that there was no God, and consequently no need of repentance, and no fear of punishment, and consequently no need of pardon through the blood of Christ, it would make many of my hearers feel much relief and give them great ease of mind. Even very respectable and moral people would say, “Now we have got out of that difficulty about the new birth, atonement, and heaven, and hell in a very short and easy manner, and upon the whole we are glad about it.” But, to some of us, such information would be the most awful tidings possible, for the very fact that there is a God who is a righteous governor, and that there is a way of righteous pardon through the precious blood, is our joy and our gladness, now that we are reconciled to God. While you are not reconciled there is an enmity within you which the deceitfulness of your heart will not let you see, and when you are brought to see it and to sorrow for it, it will be one of the steps by which God will lead you to himself. We want you, dear unconverted hearers, to see clearly that there is a quarrel between God and you: on God’s side a righteous disagreement with you, because he could not agree with you and be holy; and, on your side an unrighteous and wicked opposition to him, because his thoughts, and ways, and laws are too pure, too just, and too good for you.

A further portion of this same step (and I pray every hearer who is seeking God to see whether he knows anything about it) is the perception that, in order to perfect reconciliation with God, there must be something done Godward, and there must be something done man ward; that is to say, something offered to God by which the insult and injury done to his most holy and righteous law shall be recompensed; and, next, a thorough change in us before we can walk with God in perfect communion; for if God were to forgive sins outright and make no more ado, and if he were to receive us into heaven itself, yet, as long as our nature is what it is, we should carry a hell within our own souls, and heaven would be to us misery emphasised. While we are unrenewed and our nature remains contrary to God, the nearer we could get to God, if that were possible, and the more of God’s love we could perceive, if that were possible, the more intensely wretched we should become. In order to reconciliation it is not enough that one party should be forgiving, the other must yield too. If the aggrieved party on his part should go all the way towards reconciliation, it may only encourage the other to further evil, unless he desires reconciliation too; so you perceive that in order to reconciliation between a sinner and God, the sinner must be brought into a different state of heart, he must in fact repent, or, more fully, he must be born again.

One other part of this first step I must mention,-a soul upon whom the Spirit of God is thus operating begins to desire to be reconciled to God. “O God,” saith he, “thou art angry with me; can thine anger be turned away? Is there a sacrifice? Is there an atonement? If there be, I beseech thee turn thy face of kindness towards me and have pity upon me. And, O Lord, whereas I know that in my bosom there is an evil heart which departs from thee, I beseech thee renew me. It is true the Ethiopian cannot change his skin, or the leopard his spots; but surely thou who madest me at the first canst new make me? O my great creator, couldst thou not be my renewer? Couldst thou not quench in me the fire of enmity against thyself, and make me yet to be thy friend? And, whereas, these two things stand in the way, thine anger and my enmity, canst thou not make a clean sweep of both? At one stroke canst thou not both justify me and regenerate me, so that I may walk with thee and be agreed with thee?” This is the dawn of grace, and a blessed dawn it is. How thankful am I if these words are reaching the ears of men who are undergoing this sacred process. Of old, when the world was without form and void, and darkness was upon the face of the deep, the Spirit of God moved upon the face of the waters, and it is written, “There was light,” and the next effect was order, and the next was life, and then a fair world arose beneath the brooding wings of the ever blessed Dove. Oh, may he come forth now in like manner; may he bring light into your souls, though this should cause you painfully to perceive the disorder of your nature, and may he then turn your chaos into order, your death into life, and your deformity into the beauty of holiness, to the praise of the glory of his grace. This is but the first step, but it is one for which to be devoutly grateful if the Holy Spirit has led us to take it.

Secondly, the text sets forth before us in the far clearer light of actual statement a second step. “We have now received the at-one-ment.” The word “atonement” is a very improper translation here. It is the only case in which our translators have used the word at all in the New Testament, and it is very unfortunate that they should have used it in the wrong place, because the word is as plainly as possible reconciliation, and does not so much refer to the atonement by which the reconciliation is made as to the reconciliation itself. I believe that here our excellent translators used the word in the sense of at-one-ment, or bringing two together. We have “received” an at-one-ment; we are made to come into oneness with God through Jesus Christ. Now, the second step Godward, and the truly vital one, is receiving the reconciliation.

Observe, how we are reconciled. It is not by working out a reconciliation. Please observe that. The first instinct of a man who finds himself with an angry God gazing upon him, and with enmity in his own heart towards God, is to set to work to try and better this state of things. “What shall I do? How shall I avert the divine anger?” The heart suggests a multitude of expedients. Sometimes it runs into the enchantment and fascination of ceremonialism, but more commonly among us it falls back upon its own natural self-righteousness, and dreams of reconciliation by amendment, and by future carefulness, and by a diligent obedience in the future, which it hopes to be able to render. Now, observe, the text does not say that we have made any atonement for sin, neither does any Scripture ever tell us that we can do so, or that by any good deeds of our own we are to be reconciled to God. I tell you, awakened souls, that all your struggles to be reconciled to God apart from Christ are only another form of the rebellion of your hearts against God; you are evidently opposed to him because you reject his plan of reconciliation, and in defiance of his will make a pretence of offering to be reconciled on other terms than those which he ordains. While talking of peace you insult the Lord again by rejecting the blood of his Son, which is the only atonement. From the top of Sinai, amidst the smoke and burnings of his awful presence, he forbids you to draw nigh, and he sets bounds about the mount; but your daring reply is, “By this mount I will approach to God, I will break the barriers, and climb Sinai’s rocky sides.” Your attempt is vain, the fire of his law will devour you; for this is not the way, neither is this the road by which God can permit a sinful soul to approach him, since if he did accept a sinner in his own righteousness it would be an insult to the righteousness of Christ; if he should admit a sinner into his favour by any door but faith in his dear bleeding Son, it would be to make a liar of himself, to make void all his promises, and to do despite to the cross of Jesus. No, we receive the reconciliation, there is the pith of the matter. We do not make it, we receive it. I would like to dwell on that blessed word a little while-“We have received the atonement.” We do not buy it; we receive it without money, and without price. We do not complete it, we receive it. “It is finished” was the verdict pronounced upon it long before we were born. We did not assist in commencing it nor can we add anything to it, neither is there any need that we should wish to do so. We receive reconciliation. It is a free gift. We have only to put out our hand and take it; we have only to be empty vessels to be filled with it. We receive it perfect. Oh, that precious word “receive;” How well it suits all cases. A person may be very poor, but I never yet met a person who was too poor to receive; in fact it is the poor man who is the most willing and ready to receive. When the pitcher is empty it is in the fittest state to receive, for when it is full it cannot receive; and the lower, the more humble, the more broken, the more ruined, the more condemned, I was almost about to say the more near being damned, the more fit you are to receive divine grace. I put it as strongly as I can in order that any here who are despairing may lay hold of it. If you are emptied to the last drop, and cannot find a trace of a footstep of anything good in you, why then you are ready to receive. Surely, if you have nothing, you are the very man who can receive what Christ has provided.

Let me explain the process of receiving reconciliation. It begins thus: The man being already on the first step, knowing that he wants reconciliation, believes the truth about the gospel. Now, the gospel is that reconciliation, is made for every soul that believes in Jesus. It is a great mercy when a man becomes clear about that and accedes to it as God’s truth. God is not reconciled to anybody who will not believe in Christ, but he is reconciled to every soul that trusts in Jesus. No wrath remains against a believer in Jesus; to such God is all love and tenderness. For all sinners who receive Christ by faith Jesus was a true and effectual substitute, he suffered in their stead, and bore that they might never bear the divine wrath that was due to sin. Now, be very clear about this, for though we preach it every Sunday we have need to repeat it still. Many teach that Christ has made an equal atonement for all men; but, since a great number of men are lost, it is evident that their guilt was not effectually removed, neither were they actually reconciled. If those men were all reconciled to God and yet were cast into hell, there is little to be desired in so useless a reconciliation. An atonement for all which does not save all is not in itself an effectual atonement; it is clear that if it of itself saved one for whom it was offered it would save all: the same cause if complete within itself would always, produce the same effect. An atonement said to be universal is also admitted to be ineffectual, unless all are reconciled to God by it. The fact is, there is no redemption worth having but the particular redemption by which the Lord Jesus redeemed his own people only, that is to say, made for all who believe in him an effectual sacrifice. Now, if you can receive that truth cordially it will mightily help you:-God is reconciled to every believer.

Then, the next step to receiving reconciliation is to become a believer, because then the man is reconciled. How can I become a believer? Why, of course only by believing. And what is to believe? The other word for it is “trust.” Jesus Christ made a full, satisfactory, substitutionary atonement for every soul that trusts in him: I trust him, therefore I know that he has made a full satisfaction for me. I received the reconciliation the moment I trusted him. I have believed God’s record concerning his Son that he is able to save me, and I know for that reason, and I do not want any other reason, that I am reconciled to God and God to me. There is the long and the short of the actual process of reconciliation by faith.

The soul becomes consciously reconciled to God, yet further, when peace flows into the soul as the result of the conviction that God is reconciled through Jesus Christ. My heart feels this morning perfect reconciliation with God, because I know that whatever my sins may have been, and I know they are far more than I think them to be-they were all laid upon Christ’s head upon Calvary; and whatever punishment was due to me for my sins Christ has borne on my behalf. How do I know that he bore my sins in particular? Is it because I think he bore the sins of all men? By no manner of means. That would give me no comfort, because some men are lost, and I might be among them, and if Jesus bore the sins of all men, it is clear that his bearing sin in that sense is not in every case effectual; but, when I know that he so bore the sins of believers that they are clear, and am also certain that I am a believer, I feel the profoundest peace of mind. Search my soul through and through, and there is not an honester thought in my nature than this, that I rest on Christ alone. Very well, then my sins are forgiven me since they were laid on Jesus, and they cannot be in two places. If Christ took them they are not on me. Jesus was punished for them, and God cannot punish two individuals for one and the same sin. If he laid my sin upon my substitute he cannot lay it upon me. God is not unrighteous to forget Christ’s labour of love for me. Payment he cannot demand twice, first at the bleeding Surety’s hands, and then again at mine. O ye heavens, was there ever heard of such a monstrous injustice as for Christ to be a substitute for a sinner, and then that sinner to be punished after Christ was punished in his stead? It cannot, must not, shall not, be even thought of: it were a blasphemy atrocious. I have God’s word for it, that Jesus died for believers; then am I sure he died for me, and that I cannot be condemned. The peace which that belief sheds over the mind is wondrous. There is no peace like it.

Out of this there arises a reconciliation to God more and more deep and happy, for the Spirit of God, from time to time, more and more opens up to the believer the work of Christ; he shows him that this work was no novelty, that it was no mere expedient invented late in the day, but that eternal love had laid out this plan before the clouds were weighed, or the mountains were upheaved. Then the Holy Spirit reveals the all-sufficiency of the true sacrifice of God. What merit there must be in the death of One who is divine! What a boundless extent of overflowing mercy there must be in the pangs and groans of One who thought it not robbery to be equal with God, but yet made himself of no reputation, and took upon himself the form of a servant for our sakes! Every believer here will bear me witness that the more fully he understands the work of the Lord Jesus the deeper is his peace; and, consequently, the more full is his sense of reconciliation to God.

Then, brethren, being persuaded of all this our heart drops her former enmity to God. What, saith the man? Has the Lord really forgiven me all, and has he forgiven me by giving up his only-begotten Son for my sake? Did he take him from his bosom whom all heaven adored, and give him up for me? How can I oppose him any longer? I yield and gladly call him Lord. Then our love is enraptured with his blessed character, and we magnify him with our whole heart. We adore as much his justice as his mercy, we love his holiness as well as his grace, for we see all blended in the person of the Only-begotten. We learn to bless God that he is angry with sin; we would not have him otherwise. We bless him that he did require satisfaction, for there ought to be a penalty exacted, lest sin through being condoned without punishment should be lightly thought of both by men and other races of intelligent beings. We thank God that he is just what he is, and we would not have him changed in any degree or manner. Ever since by faith we met the Lord on Calvary’s bloody tree, and crossed hands over the great sacrifice for sin, all our enmity is slain. If the old lusts within us dare rebel, we proscribe them as traitors, and call in the aid of heavenly power to subdue them. Our inmost heart is now at one with God; in its very deeps we feel a delight in him.

Thus I have shown you the second step, or receiving the reconciliation.

By the third step we get into the brightest light-“we joy in God,” he becomes our highest and loftiest joy. I must take you back a step for a minute. No man ever rejoices in God except the man who receives the atonement by Jesus Christ. Suppose a man should say, “I do not want an atonement; I am a good man, and always have been; I have not broken the law.” Well, friend, I will tell thee what is according to nature and what I am certain is the fact;-thou wilt rejoice in thyself. I know if I were half as good as thou sayest thou art, I would rejoice in myself indeed. If I had kept the law from my youth up, and had never broken one of the commands of God, I assure you I would boldly say, “God, I thank thee that I am not as other men are; I have kept thy law; I have done no sin in thought, word, or deed.” I should rejoice in myself. Dear friends, you will never know anything of what it is to rejoice in God while you are self-righteous. Neither does any man rejoice in God who feels that he has obtained reconciliation with God by his own self-reforms. Reforms are admirable, and I would not say a word against them; but, suppose a man who was once far from God were able to boast that he refined himself into fellowship with God, in whom think you would he rejoice? Why, in himself certainly. Did I hear a man say, “I have had moral courage and resolution enough to make myself all I ought to be. I have brought myself up from the horrible pit, and out of the miry clay, and this is no small thing.” My dear man, you are a fine fellow, let me pat you on the back. What? Do you say that you don’t want to be patted on the back. Don’t be angry, I quite agree with you. You do that quite sufficiently for yourself, and I should do the same if I had so much to say for myself as you have. Why should I care to rejoice in God? Samson crying “Heaps upon heaps” is nothing to a man fighting in his own strength, and conquering all his spiritual foes. Why, my valiant friend, when you get to heaven you will throw your cap up and say, “Glory be to myself.” No doubt you will if ever you get there. No, joy in God never could result from a man’s saving himself. The only way a man comes to joy in God is by receiving reconciliation by grace, and I think that is clear to any thoughtful mind. If there be anything of our own of merit, or endeavour, which can bring us into a state of reconciliation with God, then we shall rejoice in it; but if there be nothing of our own, and we have simply to stand still and receive salvation, and take it all as a matter of the free grace of God through Jesus Christ, then we joy in God.

Let me dwell on this for a moment. The moment a man is reconciled to God his view of God alters entirely. Have you not noticed how your opinions of persons will vary? A neighbour has done you a displeasure, and, therefore, you do not esteem him. Very likely that person is a very excellent man, but you read everything he does in the evil light of suspicion. If he meets you with frank courtesy you think him a fawning hypocrite; and if he passes you by you set it down to haughty contempt. If he should offer to serve you, you would suspect that he wished to place you under a humbling obligation; and if he stands aloof, you feel sure that he gloats over your necessities. His name is no sweet sound to your ear, you have no joy in him. If, however, by a discovery of his kindness you escape from prejudice, his whole conduct wears another aspect. When a soul becomes reconciled to God by the way of the cross, as I have described, then its whole mind with regard to God alters; and from that moment it reads him aright, and understands him, and delights in him.

I will show you wherein a soul which is reconciled to God delights in him. First, in his very existence and person. That there is a God is to the Christian supreme bliss. “Oh,” saith he, “what should I do without my God? The infidel may say there is no God, but if that were true I should have lost my father, my friend, my all.” The Christian feels that his hope of prevailing over injustice and wrong lies in the fact that there is a reigning God who will set all things right at last. His hopes for preservation and sustenance spring from God’s being the source of all life, and the giver of all good gifts to his people. If there were a place in the world where God came never, no Christian would ever go there; but, if there be a spot where God peculiarly reveals himself, beloved brethren, is not that where you delight to meet? And since we believe there is to be a fuller revelation of himself in heaven, is not that our main reason for longing to be there?-not because the angels are there, or because the harps of gold ring out superior melodies, but because we shall be with God, and shall be like him. Oh, yes, I do but speak your inmost hearts when I say you joy in the very existence of God. As loyal subjects rejoice that they have a king, as affectionate children rejoice that they have a father, as a loving spouse rejoiceth that she hath a husband; so do we, but infinitely beyond all this, rejoice that we have a God.

Next, we rejoice in his character. All the attributes of God are themes of joy and rejoicing to a Christian. “Why,” saith he, “he is a merciful God; blessed be his name for that, else I had never been saved: he is a gracious God; glory be to him for that, for he can save the souls of my children by his grace. He is a powerful God, and I would not have him otherwise; this indeed is a well of joy.

“The God that rules on high,

And thunders when he please,

That rides upon the stormy sky,

And manages the seas:

This awful God is ours,

Our Father and our love;

He shall send down his heavenly powers

To carry us above.”

We are glad that we have a God who can do all things on our behalf. The Lord is also immutable, and oh, what a sun of consolation that is, without variableness or shadow of a turning. I shift and change like the winds and the waves, but he is always the same. Many a fainting believer has drunk from this fountain when all others have failed him. Moreover, the Lord is faithful to his promises. What a joy is this! And he is holy, and just, and good; here too is joy, for if he be holy he cannot do an unrighteous action, and it were unrighteous of him not to save his people for the sake of his Anointed. Every attribute of God darts thunder and lightning upon an unreconciled man: and, on the other hand, every part of the divine character smiles with eternal sunlight upon a spirit which has received the atonement.

Beloved, when we come to joy in God’s person and attributes, we further learn to glory in his sovereignty. Before our reconciliation we cavil at the divine will. If there is one doctrine in the world which reveals the enmity of the human heart more than another it is the doctrine of God’s sovereignty. Men will bear with you unto that word, but when they hear the Lord’s voice saying, “I will have mercy on whom I will have mercy, and I will have compassion on whom I will have compassion,” they gnash their teeth and call the preacher an Antinomian, a High Calvinist, or some other hard name. They do not love God except they can make him a little God; they cannot bear for him to be supreme, they would fain take his will away from him and set up their own will as the first cause, and say, “These be thy gods, O Israel.” But, the moment we are reconciled to God we consent that Jehovah should do as he wills. What better rule could be than the absolute empire of love? What can be better as a government for all mankind than the absolute authority of one so good, so true, so holy, and so just? Set up a limited monarchy in the universe! Yes, it were proper enough if the devil were the ruler; but, with God for the king, we want no check upon his superlative justice and immaculate holiness. He cannot do unrighteously or unmercifully. He must act according to his nature, and his nature and his name are love. Let love reign without limit; let love be sovereign; let love bear the keys of government upon her shoulder, and let her name be called the mighty God. Much of men’s hatred to the doctrine of sovereignty is rooted in their enmity to the sovereign himself; but when the heart is reconciled to God we can read the sternest passages of the ninth of Romans, or any other scripture, and say, “Amen, so let it be, what God ordains must be right.”

When the soul becomes reconciled to God, again, it joys in God under all his dispensations. Of course we joy in God under comfortable dispensations. Query, whether we do not then very much divide our joy between the comforts and the God; but in dark times, when the comforts all go, we can joy in God if we can act as Divid did at Ziklag-when they spoke of stoning him, when his goods and his wives were gone and all his followers’ wives too, David “encouraged himself in his God.” “Oh,” said he to the soldiers round about him, “do not fret; it is true we are beggars, but we have not lost our God; let us sing a psalm to his praise.” Then might they have sung, “The Lord reigneth, let the earth rejoice,” while they sharpened their swords to smite the foe.

Beloved, I will only add these two or three thoughts. Joy in God is the happiest of all joys. There are other sweets, but this is the virgin honey dropping fresh from the comb. Joy in God is also a most elevating joy. Those who joy in wealth grow avaricious, those who joy in their friends too often lose nobility of spirit; but he who boasts in God grows like God. It is a solid joy, and he who joys in God has good reasons for rejoicing. He has arguments which will justify his joy at any time. He who rejoices in God shall never be confounded or ashamed, world without end. It is an abiding joy. If I rejoice in the sun, it sets; if in the earth, it shall be burnt up; if in myself, I shall die; but to triumph in One who never fails, and never changes but lasts for ever, this is lasting joy. In a word, it is celestial joy. It flows like the river of God which rises at the foot of his throne and waters the celestial streets, while trees on either side bear all manner of fruits. Blessed is the man whose nature strikes its roots deep into the banks of this river,-he shall bring forth his fruit in his season, his leaf also shall not wither, and whatsoever he doeth shall prosper.

The only sad reflection is, and with that I close, that there are so many who know nothing about joy in God. They could never gaze upon you stars and say, “My God, thou hast made all these, and I love thee; I love thee not as I fancy thou art, but as thou hast said thou art in the Scripture; I would not alter thy nature if I could; I would not tempt thee by saying, ‘Do not this or that;’ whatever thou doest I admire, for I am reconciled to thee, and I joy in thee.” When Mungo Park looked at that little piece of moss growing in the desert where he was lost, he thought, “God is here taking care of that little moss,” and his heart was full of gladness. I know a Christian woman who was in great family trouble, and was near despairing, but she saw a little feather on the floor, which the draught of air from under the door blew to and fro, and the thought came into her mind, “God knows the motion of every filament of that feather, and he is moving it; God is here;” and all her sorrow disappeared, and she rejoiced in God. Did you ever feel like that? You know how your child feels when you put it to bed. As long as its mother is there it does not cry, but when she goes it is sad. Did you ever feel towards God as the child does to its parent? At this moment my soul is lying on God’s bosom, and I am happy. God is mine, and I love him. Oh, how I love him! You unconverted ones cannot say that. I wish you could; for, if you are unreconciled to God, your state is a very perilous one, and at the same time a very mean one. I would not like to be at enmity with a good man who had always shown me kindness; I should not like to feel that I did not love good men. I must be a wretch if I do not respect and love the only perfect Being. If good for anything myself I shall be pleased to call the good my friends. Look at yourselves in that light and see, sinners, what mean creatures you are. I pray you may say, “We will not be so mean any longer; we will be at peace with God.” There is only one way of reconciliation, and that is you must receive the atonement which Jesus wrought out by his death. But, that way is most suitable to you, and I hope you will agree with it at once. Oh, may the Spirit of God make you put out your receiving hand. Is it palsied? Does it quiver and shake? Never mind; a palsied hand will suffice to receive with. I have seen many a shivering beggar beg in the streets, but he could always receive; I have never found his hand too feeble for that. Put forth that trembling hand and take the Saviour by trusting in him. The moment thou trustest him thou art saved; God is reconciled to every soul that trusts Christ. May God grant you may feel the power of the reconciliation by his Holy Spirit. Amen.

Portions of Scripture read before Sermon.-Romans 5:1-11; Isaiah 12.

COVENANT BLESSINGS

A Sermon

Delivered on Lord’s Day Morning, April 14th, 1872, by

C. H. SPURGEON,

at the metropolitan tabernacle, newington.

“A new heart also will I give you, and a new spirit will I put within you: and I will take away the stony heart out of your flesh, and I will give you an heart of flesh. And I will put my spirit within you, and cause you to walk in my statutes, and ye shall keep my judgments, and do them.”-Ezekiel 36:26, 27.

Luther has well said that the experience of the minister is the best book in his library. I am persuaded it is so, and that God often leads his servants through peculiar states of mind, not so much for their own benefit as for the sake of those to whom they may afterwards minister. It is not long ago since I felt myself when engaged in devotion cold and dead, and in looking into my own heart I saw no ground of comfortable assurance as to my being a possessor of the grace of God: my feelings towards the great Father in heaven were not, as far as I could judge, those of a child: my love towards Jesus Christ for his redemption was almost extinct. I thought over the story of his cross without emotion, and I recalled to my mind the history of his everlasting love without gratitude. My soul was not, as it sometimes is, like the crystal lake which is ruffled with every passing breath of the breeze, but like some northern sea hardened into iron by the fierce reign of endless winter; the sublime truths of infinite grace stirred not my soul. My heart sank within me for a moment, but only for a moment, for there flashed across me this thought,-“The Holy Spirit can produce within your heart all those emotions you are seeking for, all those desires you fain would feel, all the meltings, and the movings, and the yearnings, and the rejoicings, which are significant of the grace of God.” Under the influence of that truth, as in a moment, my deadness and coldness were driven away, and I was filled with adoring love. Then I wondered greatly that the Lord should deign to handle such coarse material as our nature, that he should condescend to work upon such gross spirits, such grovelling minds, such carnal understandings as ours. And when, by faith, I perceived that he could not only there and then give me to feel spiritual life, but could maintain it against all hazards, and perfect it beyond all imperfections, and bring me safe into his eternal kingdom and glory; an act of faith exerted upon the Holy Spirit through the cross of Christ made my soul eager for prayer, and my joy and peace in believing were more than restored to me. Then, I said within myself, there may be others in a like case, and especially there may be seeking souls who, seeing what must be wrought in them before they can hope to be partakers of the eternal rest, may despair that such a work should ever be done, and looking only to themselves, may be inclined to give up all hope, and conclude that within the pearly gates they can never enter. Perhaps, I thought, if I remind them that “the Spirit also helpeth our infirmities,” that Jesus Christ’s bequest to us, in virtue of his having gone to heaven, is an Omnipotent One, who can work all our works in us, causing us to will and to do of his own good pleasure,-the thought may encourage their hearts, and enable them to look with restful confidence to him who works all our works in us.

Our text is a portion of that delightful rendering of the covenant of grace which is given us by Ezekiel, and we will, for a single moment, ask you to remember the persons with whom the covenant of grace was made. An early version of the covenant of grace was given to Abraham, and this in Ezekiel is a repetition, expansion, or explanation of the same. This covenant, and that form of it made with Abraham, concern the same individuals. Let us then remind ourselves that the covenant was not made with the fleshly seed of Abraham. If it had been, it would have run in the line of Ishmael as well as that of Isaac; but it was not made with Ishmael, for what saith the Scriptures, “Cast out the bondwoman and her son, for the son of the bondwoman shall not be heir with my son, even with Isaac.” The covenant of grace was not made with the children who are born after the flesh as was Ishmael, but with those who are born according to the promise as was Isaac, who was not born by virtue of the energy of the flesh, for of Abraham it was said that he was as good as dead, and as for Sarah that she was long past bearing; but Isaac, the child of laughter, the child of joy, the heir of the promise, was born according to the power of God, and not after the energy of nature. Isaac evidently typifies not the man of works but the man of faith. The man of works is born after the flesh, he has reformed himself, he has done his best, he continues to do his best, he is the child of his own energy, he is the result of human power, he is under the law, for he tries to save himself by the law, he is, therefore, the son of Hagar the bond-woman, and he is under bondage, and his destiny may be learned from the words, “Cast forth the son of the bondwoman, he shall not be heir with my son.” But the man of faith has received his faith supernaturally, it has been wrought in him by the Holy Spirit; it is not the fruit of the creature’s power, it is the gift of God: it is the child of promise, and it is the child of joy and laughter to him; it is a fresh spring of joy within his soul. The man of faith, therefore, is the heir of the promise, and the partaker of the covenant, since he believes in Jesus, whom God raised from the dead. The man who rests upon the grace of God, and believes in God as holy Abraham did, he is a faithful man, and, consequently, he is one of the sons of the father of the faithful.

Let every man, therefore, who believes in Jesus Christ this morning know assuredly that every word of this text belongs to him, and shall be fulfilled to him. I earnestly pray that many a poor sinner may put in his claim and say, “I have no works, but I believe in Jesus Christ; I come now and rest myself upon the bloody sacrifice offered upon Calvary, and I humbly receive the mercy of God through Jesus Christ, by simply depending on him.” To every one who exercises faith in God, even though it be but a weak and struggling faith, the precious promise we are about to expound is a heritage which cannot be taken away from him.

The main promise of the text before us is the indwelling of the Holy Spirit; but observe that the text divides itself thus: first, it contains an assured promise of preparation for the Spirit’s indwelling; secondly, a plain promise of that indwelling; and, thirdly, the blessed results which flow therefrom.

Observe, first, we have here to all God’s covenanted people, or in other words, to all believers, a promise of preparation for the Spirit’s indwelling. “A new heart also will I give you, and a new spirit will I put within you; I will take away the stony heart out of your flesh, and I will give you a heart of flesh” This promise is as a cluster of nuts, or a bough with many golden apples. Like the cherubim of Ezekiel it has four faces, all smiling upon the heirs of salvation. Like the new Jerusalem it lieth four-square. It is a quadruple treasure worthy of four-fold consideration.

The first of the four blessings is the gift of a new heart. “A new heart also will I give you.” The Holy Spirit cannot dwell in the old heart; it is a filthy place, devoid of all good, and full of enmity to God. His very first operation upon our nature is to pull down the old house and build himself a new one, that he may be able to inhabit us consistently with his holy spiritual nature. A new heart is absolutely essential, we must be born again or the Spirit of truth cannot abide within us.

Observe where the inward work of grace begins. All man’s attempts at the betterment of human nature begin from without, and the theory is that the work will deepen till it reaches that which is within. They profess to emancipate the man from the grosser vices, trusting that the reform will go further, that he will be brought under superior influences, and so be elevated in mind and heart. Theirs is an outward ointment for an inward disease, a bandage upon the skin to stay the bleeding of the heart. Miserable physicians are they all. Their remedies fail to eradicate the deep-seated maladies of humanity. God’s way of dealing with men is the reverse. He begins within and works towards the exterior in due course. He is a mere quack who, seeing in a man the signs of disease, operates upon the symptoms, but never looks to the root of the mischief. It is very possible that by potent poisons an empiric may check unpleasing indications, and he may kill the man in doing so; but the wise physician looks to the fountain of the disease, and if it be possible to touch the core and centre of it, he leaves the symptoms to right themselves. If your watch be out of order the watchmaker does not consider it sufficient to clean the silver case, or to remove dust from the face; but he looks within and discovers that this wheel isbroken, this cog out of order, or the main spring needing to be renewed; he is not much concerned about setting the hands accurately at first, for he knows that the external manifestations of the correct time will follow from the setting to rights the time-keeping machinery within. Look at our brooks and rivulets which have been by a lax legislature so long delivered over to the tormentors to be blackened into pestiferous sewers; if we want to have them purged it is of small avail to cast chloride of lime and other chemicals into the stream; the only remedy is to forbid the pollution, to demand that manufactories shall not poison us wholesale, but shall in some other manner consume their useless products. The voice of common sense bids us go to the original cause of the defilement and deal with it at its sources. That is just what God does when he saves a sinner, he begins at the origin of the sinner’s sin and deals with his heart.

My brethren, what a difficult work this is: “A new heart also will I give you.” If it had been said, “A new garment will I give you,” many of us could have conferred the same boon. If it had been said, “A new speech will I teach you,” this also, with a little skill, might have been arranged; and, if the promise had been, “new habits will I create in you,” this also we could have attempted, and perhaps successfully, to imitate, for habits are to be engendered: but a new heart-ah, here human power and wit are nonplussed. Jannes and Jambres in Egypt could imitate some of the miracles, they “did so with their enchantment,” and there is much in true religion which men can successfully counterfeit; but, as in Egypt, a point was reached wherein the magicians were foiled, so that they confessed, “This is the finger of God,” so in the regeneration of our nature, in the changing the heart, the Lord alone is seen. Who shall pretend to give another a new heart? Go, boaster, and suspend the laws of gravitation, recall the thunderbolt, reverse the chariot of the sun, transform the Atlantic to a lake of fire, and then attempt to change the nature of the heart of man. This God alone worketh, for he only doeth wondrous things. The affections are the most powerful part of our nature, they to a great extent mould even the understanding itself, and if the heart be defiled all the mental faculties become disturbed in their balance. God, therefore, commences at the heart, and therein begins a work in which man cannot compete with him, nor can he even help him. God must do it. The same God who made men must new make them, if the new-making is to begin with a change of heart. Blessed be God, he is omnipotent enough to give us new hearts, he has wisdom enough to renew us, he has purity sufficient to cleanse us, he has abounding mercy to bear with us. Mark, he gives us “a new heart,” not an old heart touched-up and mended; not an old heart a little purified and improved; but a new heart which enters into a new life, receives new inspirations, feeds on new food, longs for new happiness, performs new actions, and is, in fact, an inhabitant of the new heavens and the new earth wherein dwelleth righteousness.

Brethren, I will read this sentence over again, “A new heart also will I give you;” and I would call your attention to the style of the language. It is “I will,” and yet again, “I will.” Jehovah’s Ego is the great word. It is not “I will if,” or “I will perhaps,” or “I will upon certain conditions,” but-“I will give.” He speaks in a Godlike tone. It is royal language, the very word of Him who of old said, “Light be,” and light was. He who spoke the world into being now speaks the new world of grace into being in the self-same majestic voice.

Turn, now, to the second blessing-“A new spirit will I put within you.” Perhaps this clause may be explained as an interpretation of the former one. It may be that the new heart and the new spirit are intended to represent the same thing. But, I conceive there is more than this. “A new spirit,”-does not the term indicate that a new vital principle is implanted in men? We have often explained to you that the natural man is correctly and strictly speaking a compound of soul and body only. The first man, Adam, was made a living soul; and, as we bear the image of the first Adam, we are body and soul only. It is our own belief that in regeneration something more is done than the mere rectifying of what was there: there is in the new birth infused and implanted in man a third and more elevated principle,-a spirit is begotten in him; and, as the second Adam was made a quickening spirit, so in the new birth we are transformed into the likeness of Christ Jesus, who is the second Adam. The implantation, infusion, and putting into our nature the third and higher principle is, we believe, the being born again. Regarded in this light, the words before us may be regarded as an absolute and unconditional promise of the covenant of grace to all the seed that a new spirit shall be put within them. But, if we view it as some do, we shall then read it thus-the ruling spirit of man’s nature shall be changed. The spirit which rules and reigns in Godless, Christless men, is the spirit of a rebellious slave, the spirit of self. Every natural man’s main motive is himself, even in his religion he only seeks self. If he be attentive to prayers and sermons, it is that he himself may be saved; and if he fears God, and dreads the terrors of his law, it is on his own account-not that he cares for God’s glory, God’s honour, or the rights of God-not one whit; he has no more interest in God than a rebellious slave has in the property of his master. He wears the yoke, but he groans under it; he would gladly enough escape from it if he could; he is only happy when he is breaking his master’s laws and fulfilling his own selfish will. But, when the Spirit of God comes upon us, to make our spirit a fit place for his residence, he takes away the spirit of the slave, and gives us the spirit of a child, and from that moment the service of God becomes a different thing: we do not serve him now because we are afraid of the whip, but nobler motives move us; gratitude binds us to the Lord’s service, and love gives wings to the feet of obedience. Now the Lord is no more regarded as a tyrant, but as a wise and loving parent. Whatever he may do with us, we rejoice in his wisdom and goodness. We view him no longer with suspicion and dread, but with confidence and joy. No more do we ask “Whither shall I go from thy presence?” but we desire to come near to him, and in our sorrows our cry is, “Oh that I knew where I might find him, that I might come even to his seat.” It is a revolution indeed, when the hatred and dread of a slave are exchanged for the loving subjection of a son. This is one of the precious privileges of the covenant of grace, which I trust, beloved, many of you have already received, and which I hope others who have not received it will seek after. If they have believed in Jesus, a new spirit, a spirit of sonship is their privilege; let them not be content unless they have it now.

A third and further blessing of the text is the removal of the stony heart. “I will take away the stony heart out of your flesh.” I do not think the Lord removes at once the evil heart out of any man’s flesh; there it remains to be fought with, like the Canaanites in Canaan when Israel had entered there, to prove us and to try us, but he does take away the stony heart at once. The stony heart is a hard heart. The moment anything strikes a stone it repels the blow; when the gospel is heard by a hard heart it throws it off again, it is not moved by it, it is not affected by it. You might as well throw feathers at a wall as preach gospel sermons to hard hearts, if your confidence be in the sermon itself; only God’s power can make the feather-like sermon to penetrate the heart of stone. The Lord can do it, but the thing itself cannot be done by nature. The natural heart is an impenetrable heart; you may make scratches upon the surface, but you cannot enter within it to reach its inner core. What a marble heart by nature each one of us has. Till grace visits us the truth cannot enter us any more than light can shine into a stone. A stony heart is unfeeling, you can make no impression upon it: it cannot smart, it cannot breathe, it cannot sigh, it cannot groan,-a stony thing because a dead thing. Bruise it, and that which would make flesh black and blue does not affect the stone. Cut it, and that which would cause an agony to living flesh makes no disturbance in its granite mass. A cold, insensible thing, not to be warmed even by the rehearsal of the love of Calvary, such is our heart by nature. Dear hearers, such is the heart of every one of you till God deals with you,-just a lump of stone. Of course we speak not literally but spiritually, yet what we assert is a solemn fact. God says, “I will take away the stony heart.” What a wonderful operation to take a stone out of the heart. How much more wonderful to take the stony heart itself right away and create a fleshy heart in its stead.

I would ask you again, though it may look like a repetition, to notice how royally the Lord speaks. He does not say, “Perhaps I will.” He does not say, “If you are willing I will,” but, “I will,” saith he. Oh, it is gloriously worded, “I will take away the stony heart out of your flesh.” The Lord’s omnipotence can accomplish it. We have heard of many expedients for softening hard hearts, but none of them are of any avail. I know preachers who delight in talking of a mother’s tears, and a father’s grey hairs, of dying children and consumptive sisters, and I believe these are all legitimate topics; but, no hearts are ever turned from stone to flesh merely by natural emotion. You may make a man weep over his dead child or his dead wife, till his eyes are red, but his heart will be black for all that. Men’s hearts are changed by quite another agency than oratorical or rhetorical appeals to the natural affections. I readily admit that such appeals have their own sphere, but for the renewing of the heart something much more effectual is wanted than natural emotion. It is written, “I will take away the heart of stone out of your flesh,” and there is the secret of the matter.

The fourth promise of the preparation of the heart for the indwelling of the Spirit is this: “I will give you a heart of flesh,” by which is meant a soft heart, an impressible heart, a sensitive heart, a heart which can feel, can be moved to shame, to repentance, to loathing of sin, to desiring, to seeking, to panting, to longing after God; a tender heart, a heart that does not require a thousand blows to move it, but, like flesh with its skin broken, feels the very faintest touch,-such is the heart which the Holy Spirit creates in the children of God. It is a teachable heart, a heart willing to be guided, moulded, governed by the divine will: a heart which, like young Samuel, cries, “Speak, Lord, for thy servant heareth”:-an obedient heart, ready to be run into the mould, plastic beneath the sacred hand, anxious to be conformed to the heavenly pattern. This is an early work of grace in the soul, for as soon as ever the gospel is heard in power, and the Spirit of God comes upon a man, long before he enters into the liberty wherewith Christ makes men free, he ceases to have a heart of stone: long before he can say, “Christ is mine,” he becomes tender and impressible under the truth, and it is a great mercy it is so; it is a blessed sign of a work begun which will be effectually carried on, where the heart trembles at God’s word, where there are earnest desires towards Christ, and the man is no longer a braggart rebel, but a trembling child come back to his father, and longing to cry, “Father, I have sinned against heaven and before thee.”

Beloved, it is meet here to add a word of caution to some of you. Do not mistake natural tenderness for that heart of flesh which God gives. There are many persons who are naturally very impressible, many amongst women, and some amongst men. For this characteristic they are rather to me admired than censured; but, let them not mistake this for a work of grace. A heart of wax is soft, but it is not a heart of flesh. The softness of nature is not the sensitiveness of grace. It is often the case that some persons who are religiously sensitive are equally sensitive the other way, and, while you can influence them for good, others can as easily influence them for evil. They happen to be just now religious because the associations surrounding them have that tendency, but were they under other influences they would be sceptical if not utterly irreligious. They would have been lovers of the pleasures which others pursue had not home habits sobered their minds, for their hearts are still unrenewed. Mere religious impressibility is not grace, it is nature alone, and I even fear that to some it is a temptation to be so extremely impressionable. I am not always sanguine concerning persons who are readily excited, for they so soon cool down again. Some are like india-rubber, and every time you put your finger on them you leave a mark, but it is wasted time, because they get back into the old shape again as soon as you have done with them. I was preaching once in a certain city, and a very worthy but worldly man went out of the congregation while I was in the middle of the sermon, the third sermon he had been hearing from me during the week. One who followed him out asked him why he left, and he frankly replied that he could not stand it any longer, “for,” said he, “I must have become religious if I had heard that sermon through. I was nearly gone.” “I have been, added he, “like an india-rubber doll under this man, but when he goes away I shall get back into the old shape again.” Very many are of the same quality; they have so much natural amiability, good sense, and conscientiousness, that the gospel ministry has a power over them, and they feel its influence, though, alas, not so as to be saved by it. Beware, then, that you do not mistake the gilding of nature for the solid gold of grace. When God’s grace helps the preacher to wield the gospel hammer, and it comes down with power upon a piece of flint, how speedily the stone flies to shivers, and what a glorious work of heart-breaking is done, and then the Lord comes in and gives, by his own almighty grace, a heart of flesh. This is the change we want, the taking away of the stone, the giving of the heart of flesh.

Let us read these four promises again, and I hope they will reach any poor trembling soul who may be saying, “I would but cannot repent, I would but cannot feel; if ought is felt ’tis only pain to find I cannot feel. My heart is so bad, so hard, so cold, I can believe in Christ but I cannot change my nature.” Poor soul, there is no need you should, for there is one who can do the work for you, and these are his absolute promises to you if you are now looking to Christ upon the cross and resting all your hopes in him. “A new heart also will I give you, and a new spirit will I put within you; and I will take away the stony heart out of your flesh, and I will give you a heart of flesh.”

But time flies, and therefore let us consider, in the second place, the indwelling of the Holy Ghost. When the Spirit has thus prepared his habitation, he comes to reside within the renewed man. I call your attention to each word of the text.

Observe first, that the Lord says, “I will put my Spirit within you.” Now it does not say, “the influences of the Spirit shall come within you,”-note that: but, “I will put my Spirit within you.” It is literally the fact that God himself, the Eternal Spirit in propria persona, in his own person, resides and dwells within the renewed heart. I again remark that it is not said, “I will put the grace of my Spirit, I will put the work of my Spirit,” but, “I will put my Spirit within you.” It is the Holy Ghost himself who in very deed lives in every heart of flesh, every new heart and right spirit. Can you get that thought? Simple as it is, it is one of the greatest marvels under the sun. An incarnate God is a mystery,-the Word was made flesh and dwelt among us; but, here is another mystery, God dwells in every son of God. God dwelleth in us, and we in him. The mystery of the incarnation is not greater than that of the Holy Ghost’s indwelling, nor does it appear to me to involve more condescension. I marvel at Christ’s dwelling with sinners, and I marvel equally at the Holy Ghost’s dwelling in sinners. God himself, for whom the universe is not too vast a temple, the ever blessed Spirit in whose presence the heavens are not clean, yet saith, “To this man will I look even to him that is poor, and of a contrite spirit, and that trembleth at my word.” The indwelling of the Holy Ghost within us implies the exercise of his influences, the bestowal of his gifts, and the implantation of his graces; and, moreover, it involves the exercise of all his sacred offices, for where the Holy Ghost indwells he acts as a teacher, an illuminator, a Comforter, a Creator, a strengthener, a preserver: all that he is in all his offices he will be according to his own will to every man in whom he takes up his abode.

Note a little word also in the text worthy of your attention. “I will put my Spirit within you.” It is not the spirit of angels, it is not the spirit of good men, it is God’s own Spirit who takes up his residence in every sinner’s heart when God renews it. “My Spirit.” And, perhaps, this may allude to the fact that this is the self-same Spirit which abode without measure in our Lord Jesus Christ. We have a union of experience with Christ in the fact that the same oil which anointed him anoints us, the same dew which fell upon his branch refreshes ours, the same holy fire which burned in his breast is kindled in ours. “I will put my Spirit within you.”

Observe also carefully the words, “within you,” “I will put my Spirit “within you.” We thank God that we come near to the Spirit of God when we devoutly read the Holy Scriptures, for he wrote them, and his mind is in them; but we have a greater privilege than this. We thank God when the Spirit acts upon us under a sermon, or under any form of Christian teaching, so that we feel the Spirit of God to be with us; but we have a richer privilege even than this. “I will put my Spirit,” not with you, nor side by side with you, nor in a book, nor in an oracle, nor in a temple, nor in one of your fellow-men, but “I will put my Spirit within you,” in your own souls, in your own renewed hearts. This is marvellous. Augustine, when reflecting upon the various glories which come to God, and the benefits which accrue to men through redemption, none of which could have been revealed without the fall of Adam, exclaimed, “O beata culpa!” “O happy fault;” and I have the self-same expression trembling on my lips. Where sin abounded grace has much more abounded. Sin, which laid man in the dust, and made him like a devil, has afforded an opportunity for mercy to step in, and lifted humanity higher than before. What was man in Eden compared with man in Christ? In Paradise he was perfect in beauty, but in Jesus he wears a radiance superlative, for the Holy Ghost is within him. In Adam man was made a living soul, but in Christ Jesus he has now risen to the dignity and majesty of a quickening spirit.

My brethren, where the Holy Spirit enters he is able to subdue all things unto himself. When the ark came unto the Philistine temple, down went Dagon; and when the Holy Ghost enters the soul, sin falls and is broken. If the Holy Spirit be within, we may rest assured he will tolerate no reigning sin. He is a spirit of burning, consuming our dross; a spirit of light, chasing away our darkness. When he makes a heart his temple, he will scourge out the buyers and sellers who pollute it. He is not only the purifier within but the protector too; from temptations that assail us from without he is as an unconquerable garrison to our soul, making us impregnable to all assaults. Treasonable sins lurk within us, but the omniscient eye of God discerns each evil ambush, and he lays his hand upon every sin which hides itself away in the dark recesses of our nature. With such an indweller we need not fear, but that this poor heart of ours will yet become perfect as God is perfect; and our nature through his indwelling shall rise into complete meetness for the inheritance of the saints in light. Oh, what blessings are here, and in what royal language are they all promised! “I will put my Spirit within you.” How positive! How decisive! Suppose they will not accept the Spirit? Suppose they strive against the Spirit? Suppose their free-will should get the mastery? Suppose nonsense! When the Lord says, “I will,” nothing remains to be supposed. If he speaks to chaos, it is order. Do not say, “Suppose chaos refused to be arranged?” When Jehovah speaks to darkness, it becomes light. Do not say, “But, suppose the darkness resists?” What shall resist his fiat? When the Lord comes forth in his omnipotence who shall stay his hand, or say unto him, “What doest thou?” When the Spirit comes to deal in sovereign grace with the hearts of men, without violating their wills he has the power to accomplish his divine purpose, and it shall be accomplished to the praise of the glory of his grace.

Lastly, we must ask you to give your thoughts a moment to the blessed results which come from all this. The indwelling Spirit leads every man in whom he reigns into obedience to the ways of God. I said that the work of grace is commenced from within, but the work does not end there. Before we have considered the whole of the covenant promise we shall find that change of life is guaranteed, a change apparent in works and actions, “Ye shall keep my judgments and do them.” We do not begin with works, but we go on to works. Faith first receives the blessing, and then produces holy work. We will not allow the effect to take the place of the cause, but we are equally sure that the effect follows after the cause.

Now, observe the promise of the text before us: “I will cause you to walk in my statutes.” The soul that possesses the Spirit becomes active. It walks. It is not passive, as one carried by main force; it works because the Spirit works in it,” to will and to do of his own good pleasure.” The man who has no active godliness may fear whether he has any grace at all. If I am only a receiver, and have never brought forth fruit, I may fear that I am the ground that is “nigh unto cursing,” for if I were a field that the Lord has blessed, I should yield him a harvest. The Spirit causes us to walk, but yet we ourselves walk. He works in us to do, but the doing is actually our own. He does not repent, and he does not believe; he has nothing to repent of, and he has nothing to believe. Neither does the Spirit perform works for us-we are led to do these ourselves. We repent and we believe, and we do good works, because he causes us to do so. A willing walk with God is a sweet result of the Holy Spirit’s indwelling.

The Holy Ghost leads us to holy habits, for, mark the phrase, “I will cause you to walk in my ways.” The figure does not represent us as taking a run now and then, or as leaping a step or two and then lying down, but as walking on and on, steadily and continuously. Mere excitement may produce momentary zeal, and transient morality, but habitual holiness is the fruit of the Spirit.

Note, next, the delight it implies. “I will cause you to walk in my ways,” not as a man who toils, but as one who walks at ease. The believer finds it as sweet to walk in God’s ways as Isaac felt it sweet to walk in the fields at eventide. We are not slaves sweating in sore bondage, but children serving with delight. His commandments are not grievous. His yoke is easy and his burden is light.

It implies, too, holy perseverance; the words have the meaning of continuing to follow after holiness. It is a small matter to begin, but to hold out to the end is the testing point.

The text promises to us a complete obedience,-“I will cause you to walk in my statutes, and to keep my judgments.” A Christian man is obedient to God,-he minds the first table; he is just to man,-he does not despise the second table. Statutes and judgments are equally dear to believers. We are not willing to give a lame, one-sided obedience to God. The Holy Ghost, when he makes us devout Godward, makes us honest manward.

And the Holy Ghost also works a holy care for righteousness in the soul. “I will cause you to keep my judgments;”-that is, to have an exactness of obedience, a precision, a deliberation, a willingness to find out God’s will, and a care to attend to it in every jot and tittle. A man in whom dwells the Holy Ghost is careful not to yield himself to the traditions of men but to the commands of God. He pays no attention to the statutes of the great councils of the church, or the ordinances of popes, or the laws of priests, or the mandates of bishops; but he searches out the will of the Lord only. The knee of his conscience bows with lowly reverence before the Lord, but nowhere else. He who has bound us to his altar has loosed all other bonds, so that the traditions of men and the ordinances of priests are contemptible unto us. To God, and God alone, the renewed heart renders obedience, but that obedience he does render.

Now, to what a delightful consummation has our text conducted us. It began with a renewed heart, and it ends in a purified life. It commenced with taking away the stone and giving the flesh; now it gives us the life of Christ written out, in living characters in our daily practice. Glory be to God for this! O soul, if thou art a partaker of it, thou wilt join in this thanksgiving; and if thou art not renewed as yet, I beseech thee do not go about to find these good things anywhere but where they are. At the cross foot thou wilt find a change of heart; where fell the drops of blood from Jesus’ nailed hands and feet there is salvation. The Spirit of God will give you a right spirit, and, consequently, a pure life. Look not to your own efforts; rake not the dunghill of your own heart; to the Holy Ghost look you through the blood of the precious Saviour.

Now, to close. All this glorifies God doubly. It glorifies God that a man should walk in his ways; it glorifies God yet more that such obedience should be the result of divine power. The outward life honours God, but the inward, spiritual, gracious work which produced that life, honours him yet more abundantly.

While this glorifies God doubly, it ennobles the soul supremely. To be made holy is to receive a patent of nobility; to be made holy by the indwelling of the Holy Ghost, oh, what shall we say to this! Bring hither the poorest peasant; let her if you will be an aged woman, wrinkled and haggard with labour and with years; let her be ignorant of all learning; but, let me know that in her there is faith in Christ, and that consequently the Holy Ghost dwells in her; I will reverence her above all emperors and kings, for she is above them. What are these crowned ones but men who, perhaps, have waded through slaughter to a throne, while she has been uplifted by the righteousness of Jesus. Their dynasty is, after all, of mushroom growth, but she is of the blood royal of the skies. She hath God within her; Christ is waiting to receive her into his bliss; heaven’s inhabitants without her could not be perfected, nor God’s purpose be fulfilled, therefore is she noblest of the noble. Judge not after the sight of the eyes, but judge ye after the mind of God, and let saved sinners be precious in your sight. Honour also the Holy Spirit. Speak of him with lowly awe. Never take his name in vain. Take heed lest ye blaspheme it. Reverently seek his company, rejoice in his gifts, love him, quench him not, strive not against him, bow beneath his power, and may he dwell in you, and make you meet to dwell with him for ever, for his name’s sake. Amen.

Portions of Scripture read before Sermon.-Romans 4; Ezekiel 36:24-32.