James Buchanan
Vows which are not kept are a plain proof of insincerity and hypocrisy of heart. We do not say that every partial declension of piety, occurring after a time of distress, or that every infirmity or sin after such a time, ought to be regarded in this light. Far from it. In the time of trouble, God’s people are placed in circumstances which are fitted to deepen even their impressions – to invigorate their faith, by imparting a nearer and clearer view of things unseen and eternal, and to quicken all the graces of the Christian character. Even they, when they return to the active business of life, are often constrained to mourn over the decay in their religion, and to look back to their experience in affliction as the sweetest which they have ever enjoyed.
But while we are careful not to make “the heart of the righteous sad, whom [the Lord hath] not made sad” (Ezk 13:22), we must not strengthen “the hands of the wicked, that he should not return from his wicked way, by promising him life”. It is necessary therefore to say, with the utmost faithfulness, that there is too much reason to suspect the insincerity and hypocrisy of those who vow unto the Lord in the time of trouble and afterwards neglect or refuse to fulfil their vows.
And it is all the more necessary to press this consideration because such people may have been conscious, in the day of trouble, of such sharp convictions of conscience, such solemn views of death and eternity, such an agonising disturbance of spirit, and such real earnestness in regard to some at least of the subjects of their prayers, as to be in imminent danger of confounding these feelings with that genuine sincerity and that thorough change of heart which the gospel requires. “Were we not sincere,” such persons may say, “when we felt so deeply and prayed so earnestly, when our fears were so strong, and our resolutions so holy? We know best how we then felt, and no one will ever convince us that then, at least, we were not sincere.”
But will they not bear to be affectionately reminded that they are liable to be mistaken, and that a mistake on this point must be dangerous and may be fatal. When they speak thus confidently of the impossibility of their being deceived, do they remember the solemn testimony of God: “The heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately wicked”? Instances of a kind precisely similar to theirs are recorded in the Holy Scriptures, instances both of individuals and of communities, who in the hour of danger were as much alarmed and as much in earnest as themselves; yet their partial and temporary
1An edited extract from Improvement of Affliction, a sequel to Comfort in Affliction, which has been reprinted by Free Presbyterian Publications.
convictions did not amount to a saving change. Witness the case which I have already quoted from the Psalm 78; witness again the case of Judah: “Judah hath not turned unto Me with her whole heart, but feignedly, saith the Lord” (Jer 3:10). And again, the case of Israel: “They have not cried unto Me with their heart, when they howled upon their beds” (Hos 7:14).
There is much in the time of trouble that may excite an earnestness of desire which is altogether different from religious sincerity, and awaken deep convictions of conscience which must not be mistaken for thorough conversion of heart. The sufferer may be not only sincere, but earnest and importunate for some blessings, while his heart is shut against the reception of a full salvation as it is presented in the gospel. He may cry to God for help; he may pray earnestly for recovery; he may as earnestly ask for the pardon of those sins which lie heavy on his conscience, and for deliverance from that future, eternal punishment which no human mind can deliberately anticipate without aversion and alarm. In all this he may be sincere and earnest, and yet every thing that is purely spiritual in religion may be as distasteful and offensive to him as it ever was. He may wish for recovery, yet shrink from present conversion. He may cry for God’s help, when vain is the help of man, and yet he may have no love for God’s person. He may pray for pardon and yet have no affection for the Saviour. He may fear hell and yet have no fitness for heaven.
Now, in such circumstances and with these feelings, he may vow unto the Lord that, if he is spared, he will lead a new life and devote himself to God’s service. And if, on his recovery, he shows by his conduct that he has forgotten, or that he is now unwilling to perform his vows, what other conclusion can we entertain concerning him than that he either never had a right and scriptural view of the nature and extent of that holy obedience which the gospel enjoins, or that he is justly chargeable with an insincere and hypocritical profession?