A LETTER BY THE LATE REV. ALEX. STEWART, CROMARTY.
CROMARTY MANSE, 22nd February, 1827.
MY DEAR —, I read your last letter with much interest, and willingly offer my remarks on the subjects to which it refers.
First, as to the downright personal plan. No doubt many modern sermons are very useless, because they are very general, pointless, pithless things—”an infinite deal of nothing,” for there is no making them into any definite something that will bear to be handled, and grasped, and dissected. The amount of them is just that religion is a very good thing. But the opposite extreme is not the thing; neither is every offence “the offence of the Cross.” Were a stranger, or even a general acquaintance, to ask me, “Are you a Christian?” “Are you at peace with God?” I might say, “These are very important questions; but pray, what right have you to put them, or to insist on knowing the state of my mind; and how am I to know that you will direct me aright, and not mislead me?” There may be an impertinence in a person’s asking me the state of my soul, as well as in asking me the state of my finances. And there is a spirit of wisdom in religion,
as well as a spirit of fidelity. The plan I try or wish to follow, is, in regard to private intercourse, “to watch” opportunities, circumstances, characters, “as one who must give an account.” A minister is warranted in saying things, especially to parishioners, which another is not. And when people come for baptism, etc., I am often as downrightly personal in private with them as English will go. Then as to public ministrations, my object is to let the Bible speak out. It surely is faithful; and if a minister “speak as the oracles of God,” “declaring all the counsel of God,” “and keeping back nothing that is profitable,” he can hardly be called unfaithful. At least I think there are many passages which so plainly condemn common sins, and all sin, and our own sins, that to “declare all,” and “keep back nothing,” will try our fidelity. To put such direct questions as you mention, when not warranted by mutual intimacy between the parties, or such other circumstances, may do good in certain instances, and take for a while; but if it become anything common and general, many exorcists like the sons of Sceva will appear, and meet with similar treatment. Non omnia possumus omnes.* Singular men can do successfully singular things; and men of a highly spiritual state of mind will succeed where others will not only fail, but make fools of themselves.
Next as to the simplicity of the Gospel. The Gospel is no doubt very simple; and so also is the law, “that bodies attract and are attracted, directly as the mass, and inversely as the square of the distance.” But this simple principle, when carried out among various bodies, moving in orbits of varied and ever changing eccentricity, involves problems which tax the highest powers of human calculation. And the simple Gospel, when carried out through all its bearings and aspects, involves many a problem exceedingly complex.
The Gospel, I again admit, is sublimely simple,—as much so as a thousand moral problems solved and understood every day in domestic life between parents and children; but men are not so simple in their aims and intentions in regard to the Gospel. There is a bias, and a duplicity, and a dishonesty in the human heart on this subject: there is a blindness too; and however simple it may be to look at an object, and see it distinctly, it cannot be simple to one, half or wholly blind. While, then, I subscribe heartily to the simplicity of the Gospel, considered in itself, I despair of anything making religion in actual fact and practice a simple matter, except an outpouring of the Spirit from on high. Discard all encumbrances, and try your simple Gospel. One and another believes; but a third misunderstands in one way, and a fourth errs in another: you correct and refute, until at last you find it necessary to call back the very disquisitions, and distinctions, and defences, etc., which you threw away as marring its simplicity and beauty.
* We are not all able for all things.
Next as to the subject of doubts and fears. These, I conceive, are often well-founded; that is, the person has the best reason to doubt his Christianity, and fear the worst. Often they are mere cant and pretence. Often they arise in the Christian’s mind from temptation, sin, and jealousy of himself. I do not think doubts and fears a certain evidence of grace; neither do I consider strong confidence an unequivocal indication of a change of heart. There cannot be a simpler case than that of the jailor—”Believe in the Lord Jesus Christ;” “and he believed and rejoiced.” But I have just been lecturing on Luke vi. 27-36. I can understand a sinner rejoicing on his first believing, when he is assured of all his sins being blotted out; but think you, is it every one, who, twenty or thirty years or half as many afterwards, can ponder the passage I have quoted, and look at his own life, and have such a full assurance of the superiority of his benevolence and charity to that of sinners, as unhesitatingly to conclude himself a saint,—such a consciousness of his love to enemies—his perseverance in doing good—his forbearance of injury—his liberality, as to “lift to heaven an unpresumptuous eye,” and say, “I am a son of the Highest?” And yet read the passage, and say whether that ought not to be the case. And is there anything self-righteous in this; or anything inconsistent with his being then, as at first a sinner saved by grace? Is there not a danger of our saying, “Lord, Lord,” and yet building on the sand, and being overwhelmed in “great” and final ruin?—(John xiv. 24.) How self-denying and difficult are Christ’s “sayings!” Is it easy to say that we so keep them, as to be sure that we love Him? Mark the strong language of John, i. Epistle iii. 6-10, and say if there be not ground for doubts and fears, lest we should mistake reigning sin for remaining sin. And these and a multitude of similar passages are of as high authority as any in the Bible. You see, then, how many grave and valid doubts may arise which can hardly be called “sinful,” except as it was wrong to indulge that sin which occasioned them.
Observe that the promises of Scripture are very generally connected with character, clearly showing that it is the possession of the character that warrants the self-application of the promise. And the promise will accordingly be of something very suitable to the character: a kingdom for the poor—fulness for the hungry—mercy to the merciful—seeing the Holy God to the pure in heart—something to comfort, or animate, or guide, or strengthen, etc., etc., as it may be.
Beware of confounding promises and invitations,—two very distinct things, and addressed to different classes. The invitations are to sinners; the promises to saints only. They are yea and amen in Christ, and to those only who are in Christ—who possess the suitable character (as observed above); and they convey grace suited to the time of need. The invitations to embrace the Gospel are to “every creature.”
I dare say there are some who are a good deal employed in
scrutinizing their “first act of faith,” when they would be more comfortably and more usefully employed in eating their spiritual food, and doing their spiritual work. Faith is not an act performed once and for ever, any more than the first mouthful of food, or the first inhalation of the lungs. But what do you understand by faith? You speak of the convinced sinner believing “that God hath given to him eternal life in Christ.” What does he believe? That God hath given him eternal life. How does he know that? Christ “gives His sheep eternal life,” and of course “they shall never perish.” But has God or Christ given all men eternal life? and if not—as assuredly He has not—pray, how does your sinner know, or on what authority does he believe, that God has given him eternal life? You allude, I suppose, to 1 John v. 11; but as to the actual gift and possession of life, the “us” must be the “sheep.” This will lead you to reconsider the “gift of full pardon to the chief of sinners,” by which in that connection, you must mean any or all sinners. What do you mean by God’s being “already reconciled to the world, and now beseeching sinners to be reconciled to Him?” You allude to 2 Cor. v. 18-20. The “reconciled” are the “us”—the reconciliation is open to the world, and the ambassadors beseech them to embrace it. A person, by taking up a theory, may persuade himself, or imagine, that he is at peace with God, and on the way to heaven. This is a pleasing idea; the uneasy apprehensions usually felt in the prospect of death are quieted or removed: thus a joy and peace are the natural consequences of entertaining such an idea; consistency and novelty will lead to a pleasure in ordinances, and a good deal of religious talk and bustle, etc., may follow. But to be a Christian is another thing altogether. In almost any account of a shipwreck you can take up (I have just been reading one), you will find instances of the unfortunates being thrown into ecstasies by appearances of deliverance, which have afterwards proved delusive. Their belief and hope naturally made them joyful, although quite unfounded and imaginary. What, then, would their joy prove to a bystander? Evidently that they thought deliverance at hand, but not that it actually was at hand.
These things are of prime importance to all, but especially, my dear —, to us who teach publicly, lest we mislead others, and the mistake be irretrievable ere we can correct it. There is a most solemn responsibility attached to the ambassadors of Christ, treating with men on the concerns of eternity.
I am much persuaded that there is no excogitating ourselves into the truth. If you were ever in a steamboat in the narrow windings and bays of the Argyle coast, you would often see yourself apparently land locked, and the surrounding hills would shade into each other so naturally, that no scrutiny of the eye, or even of the glass, could discover an outlet; and yet there would be more than one outlet sufficient for the British navy to pass. So, many a theory complete and invulnerable to metaphysical scrutiny,
has flaws which neither reason nor philosophy can discover. Did it not puzzle the blind Sodomites to discover Lot’s door?
I shall be very glad to hear your sentiments on the agency of the Holy Spirit. And closely connected with this will be the nature of regeneration, its necessity and the place it holds in the system of truth; likewise what the apostle means by being “spiritually minded,” and “carnally minded.”
I like the emphasis you put on “the simple word of God.” Unquestionably it is the warrant of faith. But observe, the confidence and submission demanded by Scripture, and most justly due to it, is due to the sentiment or truth intended to be conveyed by the Spirit of inspiration, and to that only, not to any perversion or misunderstanding of ours. I am near the end of my paper, else I might point out some not uncommon mistakes on this subject. You might try for yourself, to answer satisfactorily the following questions:—To what is a student of Scripture to look as his security, that he will not materially err in interpreting Scripture? What place ought to be assigned to human comments and interpretations? are they to be discarded in toto? or if not, what kind and degree of deference is due to them?
Make religion, my dearest —, a personal concern. Be honest and conscientious, and faithful in regard to yourself, and this will lead to fidelity and success in the great cause in which you are engaged. May God bless you, and make you a blessing for many birth-days to come. Friends at Kincardine and Tain much in their usual, except a winter cold which comes and goes. Charles Mackintosh is before the Presbytery.—Affectionately yours,
ALEX. STEWART.