James Buchanan
To understand the nature of this childlike frame of mind, and the new character which it imparts to the believer’s obedience, we may observe:
- The spirit of adoption implies reverence and godly fear, such as is due to God’s infinite and adorable perfections, but it excludes that slavish dread and terror which a conviction of guilt is apt to inspire. We read in Scripture of two kinds of fear: one belongs to the spirit of bondage, the other to the spirit of adoption. They are usually distinguished, in the writings of divines, by the name of filial and slavish fear – the former being the fear with which a son regards his father, the latter the fear with which a slave regards his taskmaster. You can have no difficulty in distinguishing between the two, or in seeing that, while the one is excluded by faith in the gospel, the other will only be deepened and confirmed by it.
The fear which springs from a spirit of bondage arises from the terrible apprehension of God as an avenger, and is apt to exasperate our natural enmity, to widen our separation from God and to excite distrust, dislike and aversion; and one of the great objects of the gospel is to change this unhappy frame of mind by removing the ground of our apprehensions and proclaiming a message of reconciliation. But even where the gospel message has been so clearly understood and so sincerely embraced that it has destroyed the spirit of bondage and brought the soul into conscious enjoyment of that liberty which belongs to the children of God, that filial fear is not removed. On the contrary it is deepened, and His children ought to cherish that fear towards such a being as God is, even when He is regarded as their Father in heaven. It is a fear which properly consists in reverence, expresses itself in the language of humble adoration, and produces a circumspect and watchful
1Another extract from a chapter entitled, “The Work of the Spirit as the Spirit of Adoption”, in Buchanan’s book, The Office and Work of the Holy Spirit. The first section, last month, was entitled, “Adoption, a Privilege”.
habit that Paul refers to when he tells believers: “Be not high minded, but fear”; “Work out your own salvation with fear and trembling”; and, “Pass the time of your sojourning here in fear”.
This reverential fear is not the fruit of guilt or mere conviction of conscience; nor is it confined to sinners; the angels and seraphim of heaven feel and cherish it when they veil their feet and their faces with their wings, and cry one to another, “Holy, holy, holy, Lord God of hosts”. It was felt by all the saints of old who were admitted to near converse with God, or who witnessed any remarkable manifestation of His perfections. So Elijah covered his face with his mantle; Moses said, “I exceedingly fear and quake”; and John “fell at His feet as dead”. It is indeed an essential, permanent part of true religion, both on earth and in heaven; for it will always be true that “God is greatly to be feared in the assembly of the saints, and to be had in reverence of all them that are about Him”.
Although the spirit of adoption delivers sinners from the spirit of bondage and the slavish dread which devils feel – of whom it is said that “they believe and tremble” – it has no tendency to cherish an undue familiarity with God, or to relieve believers’ minds from that salutary awe and godly fear which is the very beginning of wisdom. On the contrary, the same gospel which releases them from the yoke of slavish terror, by revealing the grace and mercy of God to them, is fitted to deepen even their deepest thoughts of the holiness and justice of God, His truth and majesty. Thus no believer can contemplate the cross of Christ without feeling a solemn sense of awe on his spirit, and without entering into the meaning of the Psalmist’s words to God, “There is forgiveness with Thee, that Thou mayest be feared”.
- The spirit of adoption implies a lively sense of gratitude and a principle of supreme love to God, such as a child feels towards a forgiving, affectionate father. And it excludes that sullen discontent and resentful opposition which the spirit of bondage is apt to inspire. Slavish fear, a fear arising merely from convictions of conscience and the prospect of judgement, naturally tends to increase our aversion to God, and to inflame our natural enmity. And whether it shows itself in violent opposition, as in the case of Herod, who feared John and afterwards cast him into prison, or in dark and dreadful despair, as in the case of Judas, when under the influence of remorse he went and hanged himself, it has no power to attract or reconcile the sinner to his Judge. But “what the law could not do, in that it was weak through the flesh, God sending His own Son in the likeness of sinful flesh, and for sin, condemned sin in the flesh; that the righteousness of the law might be fulfilled in us, who walk not after the flesh, but after the Spirit”.
The gospel, as a message of love, is fitted to inspire the sinner with grati-
tude. Wherever it exists, faith works by love – by love to God for the benefits which He has conferred, for the compassion and mercy which He has exercised, and for all the adorable perfections of His divine nature which He has displayed in the work of redemption. This love, engendered by the glad tidings of salvation through Christ, utterly excludes the slavish anxieties and terrors to which the spirit of bondage gives rise. John says, “There is no fear in love; but perfect love casteth out fear: because fear hath torment. He that feareth is not made perfect in love.” But “we love Him, because He first loved us”. Who can describe the feelings of a convinced sinner when he is first enabled to look up to God as a forgiving Father, and to hear, as it were, from His own lips, the gracious words, “Son, be of good cheer; thy sins be forgiven thee!”
Such were the feelings of the poor prodigal after his wayward and weary sojourn in a strange land. There, professing himself to be free, he inwardly felt that he was the slave of his own passions, and in “the spirit of bondage” preferred, even when he was in want, to go into a field and fill his belly with the husks that the swine did eat, rather than return to his father’s house. Yet remembering his father’s love, his heart relented, and he said, “I will arise and go to my father”; but still in the spirit of bondage he added, “Make me as one of thy hired servants”. He came, “and when he was yet a great way off, his father saw him, and had compassion, and ran, and fell on his neck, and kissed him”. The father said, “Bring forth the best robe, and put it on him . . . and bring hither the fatted calf . . . for this my son was dead, and is alive again”. Such, if we can conceive them, are the feelings of a sinner when the spirit of bondage unto fear is displaced by the spirit of adoption, whereby he cries, “Abba, Father”.