BUNYAN, in his immortal allegory, has told us in an impressive and winsome way the setting out, progress, and culmination of the great journey of Christian. He does not tell us what kind of life Christian was leading—whether it was better or worse than that of others in the City of Destruction. The first glimpse we get of him is of one in trouble, who is already leaving the city. He is clothed in rags, with his face from his own house, a book in his hand, and a great burden on his back. The Book may have been read a thousand times before, but now it is reading his inmost thoughts. A voice is speaking wonderful words as he reads, and weeps and trembles until the dispeace of his mind becomes so great that he breaks out in a “lamentable cry, saying, ‘What shall I do?’ (Acts ii. 37).” The Spirit of God is speaking to the man, and do what he will he cannot shut his ears to the voice that is speaking. The work of the Holy Spirit is very diversified, but in all true conversion there is a marvellous unity of purpose, and in a more or less degree these three elements enter into all true Christian experience—the rags, the book, and the burden.
(1) The Rags.—The Bible makes it very clear that if we are to be saved it is not by our own righteousness, but the sinner cleaves to his own righteousness, and will not look upon it as “filthy rags” until the Spirit of God makes this plain and clear to him. We will not submit to the righteousness of God, and God’s people have had painful experience of how self-righteousness cleaves to them. “What do you think is the most difficult thing in Christian life to give up?” asked the Rev. James Hervey on one occasion of an aged ploughman. The old man hesitated, and suggested to the young minister that he would prefer to hear his answer first. “Well,” said Mr. Hervey, without hesitation, “I think the most difficult thing to give up is sinful self.” “Well, my opinion,” said the aged Christian, “is that it is righteous self.” Hervey says he could not help pitying what he then thought was the ignorance of the aged believer, but with a deeper knowledge of his own heart after he had travelled a few years on the way it was James Hervey he pitied, and admired the old ploughman for the answer he had given in days when Hervey had yet a great deal to learn. At first sight it seems almost incredible, in view of the clearness of New Testament teaching, that there should be such a cleaving to our own righteousness, but experience bears out what Scripture says on this matter. Paul knew what this meant, and in his writings he warns sinners not to depend on their own righteousness, but the righteousness of the Lord Jesus. And it is a hopeful day when a sinner’s righteousness is turned into rags in his own sight, and filthy rags at that. The Jews were cast away because they went about to establish their own righteousness, and had not submitted to the righteousness of God. Dr. Kennedy tells of a man who went from place to place with a bundle of rags upon his back. He became so attached to his bundle that it must accompany him wherever he went. On one occasion he came to a house and asked for lodging. His request was granted on condition he would leave his bundle outside. “If my bundle is to be out, so will I,” was his ungrateful reply. It was a bitterly cold night, and when the inmates of the house went out in the morning they found the poor man lying dead beside his bundle of rags—fit symbol of so many of the human race, who perish cleaving to their self-righteousness.
(2) The Book.—The Word of God is living, powerful, discerning the thoughts and intents of the heart. The awakened sinner reads in it for the first time his own condemnation. Before this he may have read it or heard it read a thousand times, but it never troubled him; but now, as he reads, he, like Christian, weeps as it speaks of condemnation. God’s law is holy, and the appointed meeting of the sinner with this law in God’s Word causes disquiet of mind. But the Word does not only condemn, it directs the steps, raises hopes, and sustains Christian on his way to the Celestial City. It became a lamp to his feet and a light to his path. If it speaks of condemnation and makes him weep, it also speaks of mercy and makes him rejoice. For the first time in his life he realises that God’s Word is living, powerful, sharper than any two-edged sword, and a discerner of the thoughts and intents of the heart.
(3) The Burden.—”I am in myself undone,” says Christian, “by reason of a burden that lieth hard upon me,” and he says later to Evangelist, “I fear this burden that is upon my back will sink me lower than the grave, and I shall fall into Tophet.” And again to Worldly Wiseman, who seeks to dissuade him from his purpose, he says, “Why, sir, this burden upon my back is more terrible to me than are all these things which you have mentioned; nay, methinks I care not what I meet with in the way, if so be I can also meet with deliverance from my burden.” What, then, is this burden? One is ready to answer, Sin, and to quote in proof the Psalmist’s words, “Mine iniquities are gone over mine head; as an heavy burden they are too heavy for me” (Ps. xxxviii. 4). The townsfolk of Christian were sinners, but they felt no burden. The correct answer to the above question is not simply Sin, but the sense of guilt he feels of the sin he has committed. It is this which constitutes the load. This, again, is clearly set before us in the Word as the work of the Holy Spirit. When Christian turned out of his way to get help at Legality’s house, Bunyan significantly adds, “his burden now seemed heavier to him than while he was in the way.” It was not till Christian came to the Cross that the burden fell from his shoulders into the sepulchre, and he adds, “I saw it no more.” Burdened though the sinner is, yet it is the beginning of days for him. He is setting out on the path of life that is to ultimately bring him into the presence of God, where there is fulness of joy, and to His right hand, where there are pleasures for evermore. He has set out on the greatest of all journeys. “Do you see yonder wicket gate?” asked Evangelist (Matt. vii. 13, 14). “No,” said Christian. “Do you see yonder shining light? (Ps. sxix. 105; 2 Pet. i. 19)” was the next question, and Christian replied, “I think I do,” and with his eye on that light he set out on the journey with all its difficulties, but which had such a good ending for him, and for all like him who have set their faces Zionward.