“If thou believest, thou shalt see the glory of God.”—JOHN xi. 40.
I HAVE just been engaged in a conversation with an old lady of Geneva, and as I consider it worthy of publication, I take the liberty of reproducing it. May God grant that its perusal may be abundantly blessed to the reader!
“I have come,” said the lady, “to convey to you the kind regards of young Thomas R., who has written, asking me to thank you for the useful instruction which he received from you two or three years ago.”
A. I am very pleased to see that, though far from home, he still retains those religious sentiments which he professed when he was with us.
L. He is my cousin, Sir, and our family has always been very religious. That is a well-known fact, and I mention it without boasting. We are of the old stock.
A. That was true formerly of the whole of this country. Our old Genevan families, both in town and country, have for long preserved the religion of their fathers. The Bible was read in your family, then, dear Madam?
L. We read it regularly every Sabbath, but in my father’s house it was read almost every day.
A. And why, pray, do you read it less often now?
L. We have been too busy up till now, Sir, but my husband and I have retired from the small business that we had, and we wish to give more attention to all that in future. We feel, Sir, that we are growing old, and that we must think more of our salvation. We have made up our minds about it.
A. It is a good resolution, and that is why I ask you quite frankly what you think now of this salvation. Tell me, I beg of you, what would happen to you if God were to withdraw your soul from the world?
L. I sincerely hope that I shall always be ready, and that, when at length God will remove me, He will not cast me away.
A. You have not answered my question, dear Madam, for I ask you what would happen to-day—to-night, perhaps—to your soul, if God were to require it of you? Tell me frankly, would it be saved or would it not?
On being questioned in this direct and pressing manner, the old lady looked at me steadily; then, with a persuasive gesture, she replied:—
L. But I assure you that I have nothing very serious to reproach myself with. I have always fulfilled the duties of my household, and never—as far as I am aware—have I injured any one. Therefore, I think that God will not demand of me what is impossible, and that, since I have done what I ought, He will not cast me away.
A. I see, Madam, that you have not yet understood me. Kindly listen to me again. I do not ask what would happen to you, if our tribunals were to judge you to-day, for I do not doubt that they would consider you, indeed, a very virtuous and worthy woman, entirely beyond reproach. But, I ask you, what would happen to you, if God himself were to judge you? Earthly tribunals, as you know, consider only our outward conduct, but God, as you know also, looks to the heart, the conscience—to what takes place within us. Our tribunals, besides, do not concern themselves with our conversation, but God hears all we say, and He will judge our words. Finally, our tribunals are satisfied when we do what human laws command, but God judges according to the divine law, and you are aware, no doubt, that this law demands nothing short of holiness.
L. That is very true, Sir, and I must admit that we all feel that we are sinners before God, and for my own part I am not blameless, but yet I can say that I have no great sins to reproach myself with.
A. Do you attend church regularly, Madam?
L. I do, certainly, unless I am ill.
A. In that case, let me tell you in all kindness that you are then before God in direct opposition to the truth—though certainly without knowing or desiring it; for you certainly do not say then what you say at present, and God, who sees your heart then, knows that you are not sincere.
L. I, Sir? Is it really possible? How can it be so?
A. In this way: Every Lord’s Day, at the beginning of the morning service, you stand with the rest of the congregation, and you declare that you “acknowledge and confess with all your heart, and in presence of the holy majesty of God, that you are nothing but a poor sinner, conceived and born in sin and iniquity, who daily, and in different ways, transgresses the holy commandments of God, thus incurring condemnation and death by the righteous judgment of God.” This is what you declare in public. Then, to-day, at this very hour, when asked how you stand in regard to God’s law, you say precisely the opposite, maintaining that, if you are not quite faultless, yet you are upright and virtuous, and have no great faults to upbraid yourself with. You understood, I think, that either you were speaking in sincerity of heart when standing before God in the congregation, and that consequently you have been making a false statement to-day, or, on the other hand, you are sincere at present, and you are not sincere when in church.
L. Is it possible that I am thus in contradiction with myself? And yet it is clear enough. No, I am not saying to-day what I said in church. That is certain.
A. Do you remember how the Pharisee spoke in the parable concerning the publican and himself?
L. Yes, he boasted that he was not like the publican.
A. That is to say that, while making profession of his religion and addressing God in prayer, he was boasting that he was guilty of no great sins.
L. I see, Sir, that I have spoken like the Pharisee. I should, certainly, not have thought so.
A. Yes, dear Madam, you have, until now, it seems to me, stood in what the Scriptures call your “own righteousness”: that is to say, you have thought that your virtues, your uprightness, your good works (as, for example, going to church, reading the Bible, or giving alms), all these meritorious actions of yours would secure God’s favour for you, and oblige Him to overlook your faults and your sins, and receive you into heaven.
L. But, Sir, do good works deserve no acknowledgment, then, at God’s hand? I have always thought that our religion and our good conduct would be taken into account at the Day of Judgment, and that thus, in fulfilling my duties, I should, if not wholly, at least to a great extent, blot out my sins.
A. Well, dear Madam, while calling yourself a Protestant, and one of the old stock, you have had nothing but the false religion of a poor, ignorant Papist.
L. I, Sir, a Papist? Is it possible?
A. Consider the matter yourself. The Papists, while saying that God works out our salvation, teach and believe that we must do many things in order to merit and possess this salvation. These poor misguided people think, therefore, that the Christian will be saved only inasmuch as he has earned and gained it, if not entirely, at least largely, by his obedience and his works. Now, you, Madam, have had the same idea until now. You have, therefore, had exactly the same religion as the poor, ignorant Papists.
L. I! Sir? Have I ever believed in the Pope, or prayed to the Virgin, or even worshipped images?
A. I do not think so; but, inasmuch as you have thought that salvation is earned, you have, in that point, at least been exactly like the Papists, and note, that that is the really essential point.
L. You make me afraid, Sir, and I am beginning to see that I have been making a great mistake about my salvation.
A. Such a mistake, indeed, that you have (without desiring or knowing it, I admit) denied the Saviour, the Lord Jesus.
L. Can that really be so, Sir? That makes me tremble. Show me how it can be true!
A. You will understand it by a comparison. If I am a slave, and a friend pays my ransom, it is evident that I become free again, and that on account of the kindness of my friend.
L. Certainly, for it would never occur to anyone to say that it is the slave who liberates himself.
A. If, then, after my friend has paid my ransom, I say and imagine, either that I was not a slave, or that I paid my ransom myself, it is quite evident that I deny my benefactor and his kind act.
L. I understand! Yes, I quite understand now. I see that when I thought or said that God would not cast me off because of my good works, I did, indeed, put aside the Lord Jesus. And yet, I assure you, I had no intention of doing so. It is strange how one can be mistaken!
A. Yes, and how one can suppose that sin is not more offensive in the sight of God than of men.
L. But, let me ask if you believe that sin is as worthy of condemnation, as some people say it is?
A. Tell me, Madam, what would you think of a debt incurred by me, if you learned that the King of Prussia, the Emperor of Austria, and the Queen of England had to combine all their treasures in order to pay it?
L. Well, Sir, the thing speaks for itself. I should not hesitate to say that your debt was enormous—monstrous—since so much money was required to wipe it off.
A. What would you say, then, of that sin which could only be blotted out by the sacrifice—the death of the Son of God?
L. That is quite new to me, Sir. I have never thought of it before. I cannot tell you how deeply I am impressed by it. Sin, then, is very heinous in God’s sight?
A. You feel that, if, in order to atone for my sin, God had required the death of an angel or a seraph, it would be quite evident that this sin was not a light thing. But what would a seraph, or even all the legions of angels, be in comparison with God Himself? And if God has given Himself in order to atone for my sin, what do you think then of my sin? Is it a light thing?
L. But, Sir, what was it that you said about God Himself? I have always believed that Jesus Christ has been sacrificed for us, but I have never heard it said that He was God.
A. Ah! evidently you have been listening to some of these poor miserable unbelievers, who, having denied the religion of our fathers, dare to say that the Lord Jesus Christ is not the Eternal God manifested in the flesh.
L. It is possible, for I did not know, I assure you, that Jesus Christ is God. I knew that He was the Son of God, but I did not think He was God Himself.
A. You did not think either, I presume, that you were born in sin, or that the punishment of sin would be eternal in hell?
L. Can it be so? Are we really born in sin; and is it true also that the pains of hell are everlasting?
A. It is to redeem us from both that the Eternal Father has given His Son, and that the Eternal Son of God has offered Himself as a sacrifice. Now, you know that if man were born without sin, or if the pains of hell were not everlasting, it would not have been necessary either for God Himself to become man or to be accursed on the cross.
L. Accursed on the cross! Jesus Christ, do you say, has been accursed on the cross?
A. “He was delivered for our offences, and raised again for our justification,” says the Scriptures. “Christ,” it is also said, “has redeemed us from the curse of the law, being made a curse for us.”
L. Yes, I remember these passages. But I thought, Sir, that the death of Christ had only opened the door for us, so to speak, and that we had then to work out our own salvation by walking in the way ourselves.
A. Well, dear Madam, here again you have been only a poor, ignorant Romanist, and, like the Pope, you have denied the Saviour. For, in short, if the Lord Jesus, by His death, has atoned only for the beginnings of sin, and if it is still necessary (as the poor, ignorant Romanists say) that the atoning death of the Saviour should be repeated or prolonged in the Mass, it is clear that when the Lord Jesus gave Himself up as a sacrifice, He did not accomplish all that was necessary for salvation. He was not a Saviour, then, for you understand that a Saviour saves, which means that He does the whole, and does it at one time.
L. I am very much astonished at this. I had never considered it carefully. It is clear that if Jesus has saved a soul, He has saved it with a complete salvation. Consequently, how can anything be added to it?
A. You must also see that what you have desired to do until now, either in order to atone for your sins or to merit at God’s hands some part of your salvation—all that is as false as the Mass, since in the Mass it is claimed that the sacrifice of the Saviour is repeated, and by the Mass the poor Romanist thinks that he earns his pardon. The Mass then denies the death of the Saviour, while pretending to reproduce it, and you have done the same thing when you tried to merit salvation. I say it again, you have been, unconsciously, just like an ignorant Papist.
L. Is it possible? What a discovery! And then, dear Sir, what must I do now?
A. Tell me what you think yourself.
L. Well, I suppose, I must think of God much oftener.
A. Should a criminal think constantly of his judge and of the law, would that make him less guilty?
L. But, if at the same time I pray to God and ask Him to work out my salvation, will He not grant my request?
A. If God tells us that He has given us eternal life, and this life is in His Son, what should we reply to Him? Should we ask Him to work it out for us, or rather should we believe Him, trust in Him, and be glad?
L. But, Sir, one cannot ask God to do a thing that He has already done and fully accomplished.
A. Then, Madam, you cannot pray to God either to send Jesus into the world or to give Him up to death or to sacrifice Him on the cross.
L. No, certainly, since these are things that God has already done.
A. That is why we must believe, then, and “with all our heart” too, for if we do not believe, then we deny what God has done; and if we only half believe, it is as if we said that God tells only half the truth—and that is what you have been doing unconsciously. Yes, in the words of St. John, you have “made God a liar.”
L. Can it be so? I have made God a liar?
A. Yes, certainly. God declared to you that Jesus Christ, by His death, has redeemed His Church; that, by His blood, He has washed away and for ever blotted out the sins of His people; and Jesus Himself, to confirm it, has put in His true Church His bread and His cup—sacred symbols of His broken body and shed blood. You have seen them, and even partaken of them in the Sacrament of the Supper, and yet, far from believing that this was true, and that the Son of God had indeed been offered up, you have always thought that you must pray to God to save you. Certainly, if—as you should have done—you had believed that eternal life has been given to us in Jesus, and that Jesus has acquitted us by His sacrifice, it would never have occurred to you to ask God that that should be done for you. You would have believed it; you would have been happy; and instead of asking God for a salvation already accomplished, you would have thanked Him for such a free gift.
L. Ah! Sir, I see now what you mean. Our salvation has been wrought out for us by the Saviour when He has been offered up for us; and we must believe it—yes, believe it with all our heart—as a thing already accomplished, and no longer as a thing still to be accomplished.
A. Dear Madam, God alone knows what is taking place in your mind, but if what you have just said is sincere, and if you believe it, you are, in the words of Scripture, “converted,” which means “turned back.” That is to say, until now you have considered your salvation, the redemption of your soul, and your forgiveness on the part of God, as a thing still to come, and which you hoped to attain some day by your efforts and your virtues, your prayers, and a thousand other things. But now, understanding that the Saviour has, by Himself, purged our sins, and by His sacrifice and glorious resurrection, has wrought out the complete salvation of His Church, it is clear that you no longer look for your salvation to something still to be done, but to a thing already past, namely, the death of Christ. It is backwards, then—that is to say, to the death of Christ—that you look, and no longer forwards to your works and their rewards. You are then “turned back” or “converted,” and that is why, to the question which I put to you anew—”If God were to remove you from this world, what would become of your soul?”—you will reply very differently from what you did at first.
L. Ah! Sir, I should say (and I assure you that my heart is deeply moved)—yes, I should say, without boasting, that if I should die now, I believe my soul would go to God, since Jesus has redeemed it by His blood, as I see clearly, and as I desire to believe with all my heart.
A. In that case, dear Madam, you will be no longer like a poor, ignorant Papist or a miserable unbeliever. If you believe now in Jesus for eternal life, and if your soul rests sincerely on His finished work, on His infinite sacrifice, and His promise, you ought to be at rest in regard to your salvation, since He addresses you in these words, so positive and powerful, “Verily, verily, I say unto you, he that believeth in me hath everlasting life”—words which the Apostle John repeats when he says, “I have written these things unto you who believe in the name of the Son of God, that ye may know that ye have eternal life, and that ye may believe in the name of the Son of God.”
L. What terrible ignorance mine was! Can it be, Sir, that, while calling myself a Christian, I have yet been so far from Jesus Christ?
A. Ah! Madam; how many Protestants are there who are just like poor, ignorant Romanists, and, like them, believe that they must earn salvation by their religion and their virtues. They are not idolaters, it is true; they have a form of worship which is more reasonable and more in conformity with the Gospel than Popery is, but yet they have the same religion as the Romanists, since, like them, they deny the infinite and atoning sacrifice of the Son of God when they think and say that one must earn salvation. What foolishness to talk of “earning” a “favour!” The very words are contradictory. How much more so the things implied!
L. Then, Sir, salvation costs nothing?
A. Ah! dear Madam, it has cost an infinite price, but the whole has been paid by the Lord himself. Therein is expressed the infinite love of God. He has made it to appear when Christ died for us who were only sinners. You see that it could not cost more, since it has cost all that God could give or do.
L. Was that the ancient religion of Geneva?
A. It is the Christian religion. It has always been the religion of the Church of God, for it is the religion of the Apostles. There is none other in the Bible, and at the time of the blessed Reformation no other was preached or believed.
L. Can it be so, Sir? How, then, is it so little known among us? It is no longer preached now, is it? As for me, I have never heard it before, I assure you.
A. From whom, then, do you receive instruction? For, thank God, there are still some in Geneva who teach and preach that Jesus Christ is God, blessed for ever, that He has atoned for the sins of His Church, and that every sinner who sincerely believes in Him is justified freely.
L. Can it be so, Sir? How is it that I have remained ignorant of it till now?
A. Alas! no doubt it is because you have not listened to it; you must often have heard it preached that Jesus Christ has poured out His blood to redeem His Church.
L. But, especially, Sir, how ignorant I was when I partook of the Lord’s Supper!
A. In what way?
L. Alas! inasmuch as I partook of it in order, in some way, to procure my salvation by it: while the Communion commemorates the fact that salvation has been wrought out by the Saviour, when He gave Himself for us. What a subversion of this holy ordinance!
A. Well, answer me once again. If God should require your soul to-night, what would become of it?
L. I have said it already, and I say it again with all my heart: I believe that it would go to heaven—and that, not because of my virtues—no, I can no longer think of them—but because of the sacrifice of the Saviour. It is He, He alone, who has wrought out my salvation.
A. What are you going to do, then, from to-day onwards? Will you cease then praying to God, or wishing to obey Him?
L. But, Sir, would it not be quite the reverse? Since God has loved me so much, is it not natural and just that I should love Him in my turn, and that, to prove this, I should endeavour to obey Him to my utmost?
A. That is what will prove that you believe in Jesus. Yes, dear Madam, your obedience to the law of God—this obedience arising from love and gratefulness—will show that the Holy Spirit has renewed your heart, and that He guides you. That is the fruit of the tree of faith.
L. Ah! I see now something quite new. Good works come after the knowledge and assurance that Jesus has saved us?
A. How could they come before, since the Christian does them out of love for his Heavenly Father, his good and glorious Saviour, and by that filial spirit which proves that he is saved?
L. Well, Sir, only a week ago I heard a nun say at the bedside of a sick neighbour that Protestants teach that, after one is saved, one can live as one likes. She said also that, when one was assured of being already saved, one might go to any length in sin: and she called this a religion of the devil.
A. This poor, ignorant Romanist showed that she neither knew the Saviour, nor the power of the Holy Spirit, since the first fruit of that Spirit is love to God, and he who loves God tries to keep His commandments. But do not be astonished at that accusation. It was made by ignorant people and unbelievers at the time of the Apostles. The fact is, that he who sincerely believes in Jesus receives the complete pardon of his sins, and, by the teaching and power of the Holy Spirit, desires henceforth to devote himself to the Saviour, and to please Him in all things. This poor Romanist was ignorant of the Gospel of Salvation, and, therefore, quite ignorant of the direction of the Holy Spirit.
L. Yet, Sir, I have heard the same thing said by a Catholic missionary three weeks ago. I was in a village in the district, and went, out of curiosity, to hear the missionary. He said, I assure you, many good things about holiness. You should have heard how he railed at misers and unbelievers, and everyone wept when he spoke of charity.
A. But what did he say, then, of those who are assured of salvation?
L. He called them presumptuous people, who thought themselves better than other men, and gave themselves over to all kinds of sin.
A. And do you think he was right in speaking thus?
L. I see that he was wrong. Since salvation is a gift which God makes us, there is no presumption either in believing in it or possessing it. It is like the case of a beggar to whom a prince would give a purse of gold. It would not be any presumption in this poor man to rejoice in it, or even to boast of it. His joy would be all to the glory of the prince and his bounty.
A. And do you think the beggar would speak ill of the prince or hate him, or that he would use this gold to injure his benefactor?
L. I understand, Sir, you mean that the true Christian will not hate God, from whom he has received his salvation.
A. Therefore, this missionary, when saying that Christians take advantage of their assurance of salvation in order to give themselves over to sin, was attributing to the devil what is the work of the Holy Spirit. He was, then, committing a very heinous sin, and at the same time exposing his own ignorance of the very rudiments of the Gospel.
L. Well, Sir, believe me when I say that good Protestants say the same thing. Yesterday I heard a gentleman, whom I am acquainted with, say that, the more humble a person is, the more he must doubt his possession of salvation.
A. I think, then, dear Madam, that this gentleman, when he prays, will be careful not to say, “Our Father which art in Heaven,” for how can I address God as my Father if I doubt whether I am His child? This Protestant, then, must say to God when he prays, “Our Father, perhaps, which art in Heaven.”
L. Yet this is very true. There is our prayer—that prayer which we learn in the cradle, and which begins with the assurance of one’s being the child of God, and yet people repeat it while saying that they are not yet assured of salvation. Can it be that they say thus at the same time “Yes” and “No”?
A. You see, Madam, people pronounce religious phrases without believing in their hearts a single word of them. Jesus has saved us, they say, but we must not be sure of it, for fear that, if we believed, we should, at once, hate the Saviour and despise His will.
L. I begin to see that we in Geneva were wrong in calling ourselves religious. Ah! how few there are who really believe in what Jesus has done!
A. Thank God, their number increases weekly. The true religion is preached in several pulpits, revivals of religion are spreading in several quarters, and already more than one Romanist, and more than one priest, has been enlightened and converted to the true faith; as also more than one dead Protestant has become alive. See, Madam, what has just happened to you! Is it not God Himself who has enlightened you?
L. God be blessed, dear Sir, for the good things you have told me. I am quite overjoyed on hearing them, and quite revived, too. My mind has become lighter and freer. Yes, I wish, from now onwards, to thank God for His infinite love to me; and, when I pray now, I shall ask Him for His Holy Spirit, in order that I may become better.
A. It is the Bible which teaches us what God wishes of His children, and it is it also which sanctifies our minds. You must read it, then, henceforth, as your father did—I mean daily—and always asking God to bless it to you, his child.
L. I am very much obliged to you, Sir, for all your kindness. I can say now that I have returned to the religion of our fathers—to the true religion of God.
A. Yes, dear Madam, for it is indeed that of the Bible. It is the religion of grace, and the religion which sanctifies. It is therefore the religion of the Saviour, the true and holy religion of the Christian Church, and such was the religion of our fathers.
Translated by E. G., Dornoch.