Teaching Resources International

The Life of Faith by A. W. Pink

Yes, the life which Jesus lived here upon earth was a life of faith. This has not been given sufficient prominence. In this, as in all things, He is our perfect Model.

“By faith, He walked, looking always unto the Father, speaking and acting in filial dependence on the Father, and in filial reception out of the Father’s fullness. By faith, He looked away from all discouragements, difficulties, and oppositions, committing His cause to the Lord, who had sent Him, to the Father, whose will He had come to fulfill. By faith, He resisted and overcame all temptation, whether it came from Satan, or from the false Messianic expectations of Israel, or from His own disciples. By faith, He performed the signs and wonders, in which the power and love of God’s salvation were symbolized. Before He raised Lazarus from the grave, He, in the energy of faith, thanked God, who heard Him always. And here we are taught the nature of all His miracles: He trusted in God. He gave the command, ‘Have faith in God,’ out of the fullness of His own experience” (Adolph Saphir).

But let us enter into some detail. What is a life of faith?

First, it is a life lived in complete dependence upon God. “Trust in the Lord with all thine heart, and lean not unto thine own understanding… in all thy ways acknowledge Him” (Proverbs 3:5, 6.) Never did any so entirely, so unreservedly, so perfectly cast himself upon God as did the Man Christ Jesus; never was another so completely yielded to God’s will. “I live by the Father” (John 6:57) was His own avowal. When tempted to turn stones into bread to satisfy His hunger, He replied “man shall not live by bread alone.” So sure was He of God’s love and care for Him that He held fast to His trust and waited for Him. So patent to all was His absolute dependence upon God, that the very scorners around the cross turned it into a bitter taunt. — “He trusted in the Lord that He would deliver Him, let Him deliver Him, seeing He delighted in Him” (Psalm 22:8).

Second, a life of faith is a life lived in communion with God. And never did another live in such a deep and constant realization of the Divine presence as did the Man Christ Jesus. “I have set the Lord always before Me” (Psalm 16:8) was His own avowal. “He that sent Me is with Me” (John 8:29) was ever a present fact to His consciousness. He could say, “I was cast upon Thee from the womb: Thou art My God from My mother’s belly” (Psalm 22:10). “And in the morning, rising a great while before day, He went out, and departed into a solitary place, and there prayed” (Mark 1:35). From Bethlehem to Calvary He enjoyed unbroken and unclouded fellowship with the Father; and after the three hours of awful darkness was over, He cried “Father, into Thy hands I commit My spirit.”

Third, a life of faith is a life lived in obedience to God. Faith worketh by love (Galatians 5:6), and love delights to please its object. Faith has respect not only to the promises of God, but to His precepts as well. Faith not only trusts God for the future, but it also produces present subjection to His will. Supremely was this fact exemplified by the Man Christ Jesus. “I do always those things which please Him” (John 8:29) He declared. “I must be about My Father’s business” (Luke 2:49) characterized the whole of His earthly course. Ever and anon we find Him conducting Himself. “that the Scriptures might be fulfilled.” He lived by every word of God. At the close He said, “I have kept My Father’s commandments, and abide in His love” (John 15:10).

Fourth, a life of faith is a life of assured confidence in the unseen future. It is a looking away from the things of time and sense, a rising above the shows and delusions of this world, and having the affections set upon things above. “Faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen” (Hebrews 11:1), enabling its possessor to live now in the power and enjoyment of that which is to come. That which enthralls and enchains the ungodly had no power over the perfect Man: “I have overcome the world” (John 16:31), He declared. When the Devil offered Him all its kingdoms, He promptly answered, “Get thee hence, Satan.” So vivid was Jesus’ realization of the unseen, that, in the midst of earth’s engagements, He called Himself “the Son of man which is in heaven” (John 3:13). “And so, dear brethren, this Jesus, in the absoluteness of His dependence upon the Father, in the completeness of His trust in Him, in the submission of His will to that Supreme command, in the unbroken communion which He held with God, in the vividness with which the Unseen ever burned before Him, and dwarfed and extinguished all the lights of the present, and in the respect which He had ‘unto the recompense of the reward’; nerving Him for all pain and shame, has set before us all the example of a life of faith, and is our Pattern as in everything, in this too.

“How blessed it is to feel, when we reach out our hands and grope in the darkness for the unseen hand, when we try to bow our wills to that Divine will; when we seek to look beyond the mists of ‘that dim spot which men call earth,’ and to discern the land that is very far off; and when we endeavor to nerve ourselves for duty and sacrifice by bright visions of a future hope, that on this path of faith too, when He ‘putteth forth His sheep, He goeth before them,’ and has bade us do nothing which He Himself has not done! ‘I will put My trust in Him,’ He says first, and then He turns to us and commands, ‘Believe in God, believe also in Me’” (A. Maclaren, to whom we are indebted for much in this article).

Alas, how very little real Christianity there is in the world today! Christianity consists in being conformed unto the image of God’s Son. “Looking unto Jesus” constantly, trustfully, submissively, lovingly; the heart occupied with, the mind stayed upon Him — that is the whole secret of practical Christianity. Just in proportion as I am occupied with the example which Christ has left me, just in proportion as I am living upon Him and drawing from His fullness, am I realizing the ideal He has set before me. In Him is the power, from Him must be received the strength for running “with patience” or steadfast perseverance, the race. Genuine Christianity is a life lived in communion with Christ: a life lived by faith, as His was. “For to me to live is Christ” (Philippians 1:21); “Christ liveth in me; and the life which I now live in the flesh, I live by the faith of the Son of God” (Galatians 2:20) — Christ living in me and through me.

From An Exposition of Hebrews, Volume 2.

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The ungodly are ever seeking after joy, but they do not find it: they busy and weary themselves in the pursuit of it, yet all in vain.  Their hearts being turned from the Lord, they look downward for joy, where it is not; rejecting the substance, they diligently run after the shadow, only to be mocked by it.  It is the sovereign decree of heaven that nothing can make sinners truly happy but God in Christ; but this they will not believe, and therefore they go from creature to creature, from one broken cistern to another, inquiring where the best joy is to be found.  Each worldly thing which attracts them says, It is found in me; but soon it disappoints.  Nevertheless, they go on seeking it afresh today in the very thing which deceived them yesterday.  If after many trials they discover the emptiness of one creature comfort, then they turn to another, only to verify our Lord’s word, “Whosoever drinketh of this water shall thirst again” (John 4:13).

Going now to the other extreme: there are some Christians who suppose it to be sinful to rejoice.  No doubt many of our readers will be surprised to hear this but let them be thankful they have been brought up in sunnier surroundings, and bear with us while we labor with those less favored.  Some have been taught—largely by implication and example, rather than by plain inculcation—that it is their duty to be gloomy.  They imagine that feelings of joy are produced by the Devil appearing as an angel of light.  They conclude that it is well-nigh a species of wickedness to be happy in such a world of sin as we are in.  They think it presumptuous to rejoice in the knowledge of sins forgiven, and if they see young Christians so doing they tell them it will not be long before they are floundering in the Slough of Despond.  To all such we tenderly urge the prayerful pondering of the remainder of this chapter.

“Rejoice evermore” (1 Thessalonians 5:16).  It surely cannot be unsafe to do what God has commanded us.  The Lord has placed no embargo on rejoicing.  No, it is Satan who strives to make us hang up our harps.  There is no precept in Scripture bidding us “Grieve in the Lord always: and again I say, Grieve;” but there is an exhortation which bids us, “Rejoice in the Lord, O ye righteous: for praise is comely for the upright” (Psalm 33:1).

Reader, if you are a real Christian (and it is high time you tested yourself by Scripture and made sure of this point), then Christ is yours, all that is in Him is yours.  He bids you “Eat, O friends; drink, yea, drink abundantly, O beloved” (Song of Solomon 5:1): the only sin you may commit against His banquet of love is to stint yourself.  “Let your soul delight itself in fatness” (Isaiah 55:2) is spoken not to those already in heaven but to saints still on earth.

This leads us to say that:

1. We profit from the Word when we perceive that joy is a duty. “Rejoice in the Lord always: and again I say, Rejoice” (Philippians 4:4).  The Holy Spirit here speaks of rejoicing as a personal, present and permanent duty for the people of God to carry out.  The Lord has not left it to our option whether we should be glad or sad, but has made happiness an obligation.  Not to rejoice is a sin of omission.  Next time you meet with a radiant Christian, do not chide him, ye dwellers in Doubting Castle, but chide yourselves; instead of being ready to call into question the Divine spring of his mirth, judge yourself for your doleful state.

It is not a carnal joy which we are here urging, by which we mean a joy which comes from carnal sources.  It is useless to seek joy in earthly riches, for frequently they take to themselves wings and fly away.  Some seek their joy in the family circle, but that remains entire for only a few years at most.  No, if we are to “rejoice evermore,” it must be in an object that lasts for evermore. Nor is it a fanatical joy we have reference to.  There are some with an excitable nature who are happy only when they are half out of their minds; but terrible is the reaction.  No, it is an intelligent, steady, heart delight in God Himself.  Every attribute of God, when contemplated by faith, will make the heart sing.  Every doctrine of the Gospel, when truly apprehended, will call forth gladness and praise.

Joy is a matter of Christian duty.  Perhaps the reader is ready to exclaim, My emotions of joy and sorrow are not under my control; I cannot help being glad or sad as circumstances dictate.  But we repeat, “Rejoice in the Lord” is a Divine command, and to a large extent obedience to it lies in one’s own power.  I am responsible to control my emotions.  True, I cannot help being sorrowful in the presence of sorrowful thoughts, but I can refuse to let my mind dwell upon them.  I can pour out my heart for relief unto the Lord, and cast my burden upon Him.  I can seek grace to meditate upon His goodness, His promises, the glorious future awaiting me.  I have to decide whether I will go and stand in the light or hide among the shadows.  Not to rejoice in the Lord is more than a misfortune, it is a fault which needs to be confessed and forsaken.

2. We profit from the Word when we learn the secret of true joy. That secret is revealed in 1 John 1:3-4: “Truly our fellowship is with the Father, and with his Son Jesus Christ. And these things write we unto you, that your joy may be full.”  When we consider the littleness of our fellowship with God, the shallowness of it, it is not to be wondered at that so many Christians are comparatively joyless.  We sometimes sing, “Oh happy day that fixed my choice on Thee, my Savior and my God!  Well may this glowing heart rejoice and tell its raptures all abroad.”  Yes, but if that happiness is to be maintained there must be a continued steadfast occupation of the heart and mind with Christ.  It is only where there is much faith and consequent love that there is much joy.

“Rejoice in the Lord always.”  There is no other object in which we can rejoice “always.”  Everything else varies and is inconstant.  What pleases us today may pall on us tomorrow.  But the Lord is always the same, to be enjoyed in seasons of adversity as much as in seasons of prosperity.  As an aid to this, the very next verse says, “Let your moderation be known unto all men. The Lord is at hand” (Philippians 4:5).  Be temperate in connection with all external things; do not be taken with them when they seem most pleasing, nor troubled when displeasing.  Be not exalted when the world smiles upon you, nor dejected when it scowls.  Maintain a stoical indifference to outward comforts: why be so occupied with them when the Lord Himself “is at hand”?  If persecution be violent, if temporal losses be heavy, the Lord is “a very present help in trouble” (Psalm 46:1)—ready to support and succor those who cast themselves upon Him. He will care for you, so “be anxious for nothing” (Philippians 4:6).  Worldlings are haunted with cares, but the Christian should not be.

“These things have I spoken unto you, that my joy might remain in you, and that your joy might be full” (John 15:11).  As these precious words of Christ are pondered by the mind and treasured in the heart, they cannot but produce joy.  A rejoicing heart comes from an increasing knowledge of and love for the truth as it is in Jesus. “Thy words were found, and I did eat them; and thy word was unto me the joy and rejoicing of mine heart” (Jeremiah 15:16).  Yes, it is by feeding and feasting upon the words of the Lord that the soul is made fat, and we are made to sing and make melody in our hearts unto Him.

“Then will I go unto the altar of God, unto God my exceeding joy” (Psalm 43:4).  As Spurgeon well said, “With what exultation should believers draw near unto Christ, who is the antitype of the altar!  Clearer light should give greater intensity of desire.  It was not the altar as such that the Psalmist cared for, for he was no believer in the heathenism of ritualism: his soul desired spiritual fellowship, fellowship with God Himself in very deed.  What are all the rites of worship unless the Lord be in them; what, indeed, but empty shells and dry husks?  Note the holy rapture with which David regards his Lord!  He is not his joy alone, but his exceeding joy; not the fountain of joy, the giver of joy, or the maintainer of joy, but that joy itself.  The margin hath it, ‘The gladness of my joy;’ i.e. the soul, the essence, the very bowels of my joy.”

“Although the fig tree shall not blossom, neither shall fruit be in the vines; the labor of the olive shall fail, and the fields shall yield no meat; the flock shall be cut off from the fold, and there shall be no herd in the stalls: yet I will rejoice in the Lord, I will joy in the God of my salvation” (Habakkuk 3:17-18).  That is something of which the worldling knows nothing; alas, that it is an experience to which so many professing Christians are strangers!  It is in God that the fount of spiritual and everlasting joy originates; from Him it all flows forth.  This was acknowledged of old by the Church when she said, “All my springs are in thee” (Psalm 87:7).  Happy the soul who has been truly taught this secret!

3. We profit from the Word when we are taught the great value of joy. Joy is to the soul what wings are to the bird, enabling us to soar above the things of earth. This is brought out plainly in Nehemiah 8:10: “The joy of the Lord is your strength.”  The days of Nehemiah marked a turning point in the history of Israel.  A remnant had been freed from Babylon and returned to Palestine.  The Law, long ignored by the captives, was now to be established again as the rule of the newly-formed commonwealth.  There had come a remembrance of the many sins of the past, and tears not unnaturally mingled with the thankfulness that they were again a nation, having a Divine worship and a Divine Law in their midst.  Their leader, knowing full well that if the spirit of the people began to flag they could not face and conquer the difficulties of their position, said to them: “This day is holy unto the Lord: (this feast we are keeping is a day of devout worship; therefore, mourn not), neither be ye sorry, for the joy of the Lord is your strength.”

Confession of sin and mourning over the same have their place and communion with God cannot be maintained without them.  Nevertheless, when true repentance has been exercised, and things put right with God, we must forget “those things which are behind” and reach forth unto “those things which are before” (Philippians 3:13).  And we can only press forward with alacrity as our hearts are joyful.  How heavy the steps of him who approaches the place where a loved one lies cold in death!  How energetic his movements as he goes forth to meet his bride!  Lamentation unfits for the battles of life.  Where there is despair there is no longer power for obedience.  If there be no joy, there can be no worship.  My dear readers, there are tasks needing to be performed, service to others requiring to be rendered, temptations to be overcome, battles to be fought; and we are only experimentally fitted for them as our hearts are rejoicing in the Lord.  If our souls are resting in Christ, if our hearts are filled with a tranquil gladness, work will be easy, duties pleasant, sorrow bearable, endurance possible.  Neither contrite remembrance of past failures nor vehement resolutions will carry us through.  If the arm is to smite with vigor, it must smite at the bidding of a light heart.  Of the Savior Himself, it is recorded, “Who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame” (Hebrews 12:2).

4. We profit from the Word when we attend to the root of joy. The spring of joy is faith:

“Now the God of hope fill you with all peace and joy in believing” (Romans 15:13).  There is a wondrous provision in the Gospel, both by what it takes from us and what it brings to us, to give a calm and settled glow to the Christian’s heart.  It takes away the load of guilt by speaking peace to the stricken conscience.  It removes the dread of God and the terror of death which weighs on the soul while it is under condemnation.  It gives us God Himself as the portion of our hearts, as the object of our communion.  The Gospel works joy, because the soul is at rest in God.  But these blessings become our own only by personal appropriation.  Faith must receive them, and when it does so the heart is filled with peace and joy.

And the secret of sustained joy is to keep the channel open, to continue as we began.  It is unbelief which clogs the channel.  If there be but little heat around the bulb of the thermometer, no wonder that the mercury marks so low a degree.  If there is a weak faith, joy cannot be strong.  Daily do we need to pray for a fresh realization of the preciousness of the Gospel, a fresh appropriation of its blessed contents; and then there will be a renewing of our joy.

5. We profit from the Word when we are careful to maintain our joy. “Joy in the Holy Spirit” is altogether different from a natural buoyancy of Spirit.  It is the product of the Comforter dwelling in our hearts and bodies, revealing Christ to us, answering all our need for pardon and cleansing, and so setting us at peace with God; and forming Christ in us, so that He reigns in our souls, subduing us to His control.  There are no circumstances of trial and temptation in which we may refrain from it, for the command is, “Rejoice in the Lord always.”  He who gave this command knows all about the dark side of our lives, the sins and sorrows which beset us, the “much tribulation” through which we must enter the kingdom of God.

Natural hilarity leaves the woes of our earthly lot out of its reckoning.  It soon relaxes in the presence of life’s hard-ships: it cannot survive the loss of friends or health.  But the joy to which we are exhorted is not limited to any set of circumstances or type of temperament; nor does it fluctuate with our varying moods and fortunes.  Nature may assert itself in the subjects of it, as even Jesus wept at the grave of Lazarus.  Nevertheless, they can exclaim with Paul, “As sorrowful, yet always rejoicing” (2 Corinthians 6:10).  The Christian may be loaded with heavy responsibilities, his life may have a series of reverses, his plans may be thwarted and his hopes blighted, the grave may close over the loved ones who gave his earthly life its cheer and sweetness, and yet, under all his disappointments and sorrows, his Lord still bids him “Rejoice.”

Behold the apostles in Philippi’s prison, in the innermost dungeon, with feet fast in the stocks, and backs bleeding and smarting from the terrible scourging they had received.  How were they occupied?  In grumbling and growling?  In asking what they had done to deserve such treatment?  No!  At midnight Paul and Silas prayed and sang praises unto God” (Acts 16:25).  There was no sin in their lives, they were walking obediently, and so the Holy Spirit was free to take of the things of Christ and show them unto their hearts, so that they were filled to overflowing.  If we are to maintain our joy, we must keep from grieving the Holy Spirit.

When Christ is supreme in the heart, joy fills it. When He is Lord of every desire, the Source of every motive, the Subjugator of every lust, then will joy fill the heart and praise ascend from the lips.  The possession of this involves taking up the cross every hour of the day; God has so ordered it that we cannot have the one without the other.  Self-sacrifice, the cutting off of a right hand, the plucking out of a right eye, are the avenues through which the Spirit enters the soul, bringing with Him the joys of God’s approving smile and the assurance of His love and abiding presence.  Much also depends upon the spirit in which we enter the world each day.  If we expect people to pet and pamper us, disappointment will make us fretful.  If we desire our pride to be ministered to, we are dejected when it is not.  The secret of happiness is forgetting self and seeking to minister to the happiness of others.  “It is more blessed to give than to receive,” so it is a happier thing to minister to others than to be ministered to.

6. We profit from the Word when we are sedulous in avoiding the hindrances to joy. Why is it that so many Christians have so little joy?  Are they not all born children of the light and of the day?  This term “light,” which is so often used in Scripture to describe to us the nature of God, our relations to Him and our future destiny, is most suggestive of joy and gladness.  What other thing in nature is as beneficent and beautiful as the light?  “God is light, and in Him is no darkness at all (1 John 1:5).  It is only as we walk with God, in the light, that the heart can truly be joyous.  It is the deliberate allowing of things which mar our fellowship with Him that chills and darkens our souls.  It is the indulgence of the flesh, the fraternizing with the world, the entering of forbidden paths which blight our spiritual lives and make us cheerless.

David had to cry, “Restore unto me the joy of thy salvation” (Psalm 51:12).  He had grown lax and self-indulgent.  Temptation presented itself and he had no power to resist.  He yielded, and one sin led to another.  He was a backslider, out of touch with God.  Unconfessed sin lay heavy on his conscience.  Oh my brethren and sisters, if we are to be kept from such a fall, if we are not to lose our joy, then self must be denied, the affections and lusts of the flesh crucified.  We must ever be on our watch against temptation.  We must spend much time upon our knees.  We must drink frequently from the Fountain of living waters.  We must be out-and-out for the Lord.

7. We profit from the Word when we diligently preserve the balance between sorrow and joy. If the Christian faith has a marked adaptation to produce joy, it has an almost equal design and tendency to produce sorrow—a sorrow that is solemn, manly, noble. “As sorrowful, yet always rejoicing” (2 Corinthians 6:10) is the rule of the Christian’s life.  If faith casts its light upon our condition, our nature, our sins, sadness must be one of the effects.  There is nothing more contemptible in itself, and there is no surer mark of a superficial character and trivial round of occupation, than unshaded gladness, that rests on no deep foundations of quiet, patient grief—grief because I know what I am and what I ought to be; grief because I look out on the world and see hell’s fire burning at the back of mirth and laughter, and know what it is that men are hurrying to.

He who is anointed with the oil of gladness above His fellows (Psalm 45:7) was also “the man of sorrows and acquainted with grief.” And both of these characters are (in measure) repeated in the operations of His Gospel upon every heart that really receives it.  And if, on the one hand, by the fears it removes from us and the hopes it breathes into us, and the fellowship into which it introduces us, we are anointed with the oil of gladness; on the other hand, by the sense of our own vileness which it teaches us, by the conflict between the flesh and the Spirit, there is infused a sadness which finds expression in “O wretched man that I am!” (Romans 7:24). These two are not contradictory but complementary.

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The Blessed Man by A. W. Pink

“Blessed is the man that walketh not in the counsel of the ungodly, nor standeth in the way of sinners, nor sitteth in the seat of the scornful” (Psalm 1:1).  We have been much impressed by the fact that the wondrous and precious Psalter opens with the word “Blessed,” and yet a little reflection shows it could scarcely begin with any other.  As most of our readers are doubtless aware, “Psalms” means “Praises,” and the key note is here struck at the very outset, for it is only the “Blessed man” who can truly praise God, as it is his praises which are alone acceptable to Him.

The word “Blessed” has here, as in so many places in Scripture (like Matt. 5:3-11), a double force.  First and primarily, it signifies that the Divine benediction—in contrast from God’s curse, rests upon this man.  Second and consequently, it denotes that he is a happy man. “Blessed is the man,” not “blessed are they:” the singular number emphasizes the fact that piety is strictly a personal and individual matter.  Now it is very striking to observe that God has opened this book of Psalms by describing to us the one whose “praises” are alone acceptable to Him  In all that follows to the end of verse 3, the Holy Spirit has given us a portrait (by which we may honestly compare ourselves) of the man on whom the Divine benediction rests, the only man who can worship the Father “in spirit and in truth.”  The outstanding features in this portrait of the “blessed” man may be briefly expressed in three words: his separation (v. 1), his occupation (v. 2), his fertilization (v. 3).

“Blessed is the man that walketh not in the counsel of the ungodly.” As most readers are doubtless aware, the best of the commentators (as Spurgeon’s “Treasury of David”) take as the leading thought of this verse, the downward course of the wicked: walking, then standing (a more fixed state), and ending by sitting—thoroughly confirmed in evil; tracing a similar gradation of deterioration in their “counsel,” “way” and “seat,” as also in the terms by which they are designated: “ungodly—sinners—scornful.”  But personally, we do not think this is the thought of the verse at all, for it is irrelevant to the passage as a whole, and would destroy its unity.  No, the Spirit is here describing the character and conduct of the “blessed man.”

How very significant it is to note—how searching for our hearts—the first characteristic of the “blessed man” to which the Spirit here called attention is his walk, a walk in separation from the wicked!  Ah, my reader, it is there, and nowhere else, that personal piety begins.  There can be no walking with God, no following of Christ, no treading of the way of peace, till we separate from the world, forsake the paths of sin, turn our backs upon the “far country.”  “Blessed is the man that walketh not in the counsel of the ungodly.”  But notice exactly how it is expressed: it is not “who walketh not in the open wickedness” or even “the manifest folly,” but “walketh not in the counsel of the ungodly.”  How searching that is!  How it narrows things down!

The ungodly are ever ready to “counsel” the believer, seeming to be very solicitous of his welfare.  They will warn him against being too strict and extreme, advising him to be broadminded and to “make the best of both worlds.”  But the policy of the “ungodly”— i.e., of those who leave God out of their lives, who have not His “fear” before their eyes—is regulated by self-will and self-pleasing, and is dominated by what they call “common sense.”  Alas, how many professing Christians regulate their lives by the advice and suggestions of ungodly friends and relatives: heeding such “counsel” in their business career, their social life, the furnishing and decorating of their homes, their dress and diet, the choice of school or avocation for their children.

But not so with the “blessed man.”  He “walketh not in the counsel godly.”  Rather is he afraid of it, no matter how plausible it sounds, apparently good the intention of those who proffer it.  He shuns it, and says “Get thee behind me, Satan.”  Why?  Because Divine grace has taught him that he has something infinitely better to direct his steps.  God has given him a Divine revelation, dictated by unerring wisdom, suited to his every need and circumstance, designed as a “lamp unto his feet and a light unto his path.”  His desire and his determination is to walk by the wholesome counsel of God, and not by the corrupt counsel of the ungodly.  Conversion is the soul’s surrender to and acceptance of God as Guide through this world of sin.

The “blessed” man’s separation from the world is given us in three details. First, he “walketh not in the counsel of the ungodly,” that is, according to the maxims of the world.  Eve is a solemn example of one who walked in the counsel of the ungodly, as is also the daughter of Herodius.  On the other hand, Joseph declining the wicked suggestion of Potiphar’s wife, David refusing to follow the counsel of Saul to meet Goliath in his armor, and Job’s refusal to heed his wife’s voice and “curse God,” are examples of those who did not do so.

Second, “nor standeth in the way of sinners.” Here we have the associations of the blessed man: he fellowships not with sinners.  No, rather does he seek communion with the righteous.  Precious examples of this are found in Abram’s leaving Ur of the Chaldees, Moses turning his back on the honors and treasures of Egypt, Ruth’s forsaking Moab to accompany Naomi.

Third, “nor sitteth in the seat of the scornful.” The “scornful” may here be.  The Blessed Man regarded as the ones who despise and reject the true Rest-giver.  “The seat” here speaks of relaxation and delectation: to sit not in the scorner’s seat means that the blessed man takes not his ease nor seeks his joy in the recreations of the world.  No; he has something far better than “the pleasures of sin”: “in Thy presence is fullness of joy”—as Mary found at the Lord’s feet.  “But his delight is in the Law of the LORD” (Psalm 1:2).  The opening “But” points a sharp contrast from the last clause of the previous verse and serves to confirm our interpretation thereof.  The worldling seeks his “delight” in the entertainment furnished by those who scorn spiritual and eternal things.  Not so the “blessed” man: his “delight” is in something infinitely superior to what this perishing world can supply, namely, in the Divine Oracles.  “The Law of the LORD” seems to have been one of David’s favorite expressions for the Word: see Psalm 19 and 119.  “The Law of the LORD” throws the emphasis upon its Divine authority, upon God’s will.  This is a sure mark of those who have been born again.  The carnal mind is enmity against God, for it is not subject to the Law of God” (Romans 8:7).  To “delight in the law of the LORD” is a sure proof that we have received of the Spirit of Christ, for He declared “I delight to do Thy will, O My God” (Psalm 40:8).  God’s Word is the daily bread of the “blessed” man—is it so with you?  The unregenerate delight in pleasing self, but the joy of the Christian lies in pleasing God.  It is not simply that he is interested in “the Law of the LORD,” but he delights therein.  There are thousands of people, like Russellites, and Christadelphians, and, we may add, in the more orthodox sections of Christendom, who are keen students of Scripture, who delight in its prophecies, types, and mysteries, and who eagerly grasp at its promises; yet are they far from delighting in the authority of its Author and in being subject to His revealed will.  The “blessed” man delights in its precepts.  There is a “delight” —a peace, joy, and satisfaction of soul—pure and stable, to be found in subjection to God’s will, which is obtainable nowhere else.  As John tells us “His commandments are not grievous” (1 John 5:3), and as David declares “in keeping of them there is great reward” (Psalm 19:11).

“And in His Law doth he meditate day and night” (Psalm 1:2).  Thereby does he evidence his “delight” therein: where his treasure is, there is his heart also!  Here, then, is the occupation of the “blessed” man.  The voluptuary thinks only of satisfying his senses; the giddy youth is concerned only with sport and pleasure; the man of the world directs all his energies to the securing of wealth and honors; but the “blessed” man’s determination is to please God, and in order to obtain a better knowledge of His will, he medi1ates day and night in His holy Law.

Thereby is light obtained, its sweetness extracted, and the soul nourished.  His “meditation” herein is not occasional and spasmodic, but regular and persistent: not only in the “day” of prosperity, but also in the “night” of adversity; not only in the “day” of youth and strength, but in the “night” of old age and weakness.  “Thy Words were found, and I did eat them; and Thy Word was unto me the joy and rejoicing of mine heart” (Jeremiah 15:16).  What is meant by “did eat them?”  Appropriation, mastication, assimilation.  Meditation stands to reading as mastication does to eating.  It is as God’s Word is pondered by the mind, turned over and over in the thoughts, and mixed with faith, that we assimilate it.  That which most occupies the mind and most constantly engages our thoughts, is what we most “delight” in.

Here is a grand cure for loneliness (as the writer has many times proved): to meditate on God’s Law day and night.  But real “meditation” in God’s Law is an act of obedience: “Thou shalt meditate therein day and night, that thou mayest observe to do according to all that is written therein” (Joshua 1:8).  The Psalmist could thus appeal to God—can you: “Give ear to my words, O LORD; consider my meditation” (Psalm 5:1).

“And he shall be like a tree planted by the rivers of water, that bringeth forth his fruit in his season; his leaf also shall not wither, and whatsoever he doeth shall prosper” (Psalm 1:3).  Here we have the “blessed” man’s fertilization.  But notice very carefully, dear reader, what precedes this.  There must be a complete break from the world—separating from its counsel or policy, from fellowshipping its votaries, and from its pleasures; and there must be a genuine subjection to God’s authority and a daily feeding upon His Word, before there can be any real fruitfulness unto Him.

“He shall be like a tree.” This figure is found in numerous passages, for there are many resemblances between a tree and a saint.  He is not a “reed” moved about by every wind that blows, nor a creeper, trailing along the ground.  A tree is upright, and grows heavenward. This tree is “planted:” many are not, but grow wild.  A “planted” tree is under the care and cultivation of its owner.  Thus, this metaphor assures us that those who delight in God’s Law are owned by God, cared for and pruned by Him.

“Planted by the rivers of water.” This is the place of refreshment—rivers of grace, or communion, of renewing.  Probably the more specific allusion is unto “and a Man shall be as a hiding-place from the wind and a covert from the tempest; as rivers of water in a dry place, as the shadow of a great rock in a weary land” (Isaiah 32:2).  That refers to Christ, and tells us that just as a tree derives life and fruitfulness from the adjacent river, so the believer, by communion, draws from the fullness there is for him in Christ.

“That bringeth forth his fruit in his season.” This is an essential character of a gracious man, for there are no fruitless branches in the true Vine.  “In his season,” for all fruits do not appear in the same month, neither are all the graces of the Spirit produced in the Blessed Man simultaneously.  Trial calls for faith, suffering for the exercise of patience, disappointment for meekness, danger for courage, blessings for thanksgiving, prosperity for joy; and so on.  This word “in season” is a timely one: we must not expect the fruits of maturity in those who are but babes.

“His leaf also shall not wither.” This means that his Christian profession is a bright and living reality.  He is not one who has a name to live, yet is dead.  No, his works evidence his faith.  That is why “his fruit” is mentioned before “his leaf.”  Where there is no fruit to God’s glory our profession is a mockery.  Note how it is said of Christ that He was “mighty in deed and word” (Luke 24:19): the same order is seen again in “that Jesus began both to do and teach” (Acts 1:1).

“And whatsoever he doeth shall prosper.” This necessarily follows, though it is not always apparent to the eye of sense.  Not even a cup of water given in the name of Christ shall fail to receive its reward—if not here, certainly in the Hereafter.

How far, dear reader, do you and I resemble this “blessed” man?  Let us again press the order of these three verses.  Just so far as we fall into the sins of verse 1 will our delight in God’s Law be dulled, and just so far as we are not in subjection to His will shall we be fruitless.  But a complete separation from the world, and wholehearted occupation with the Lord will issue in fruit to His praise.

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The Fight of Faith by A. W. Pink

There are some who teach that those Christians who engage in spiritual fighting are living below their privileges. They insist that God is willing to do all our fighting for us.  Their pet slogan is, “Let go, and let God.”  They say that the Christian should turn the battle over to Christ.  There is a half truth in this, yet only a half truth, and carried to extremes it becomes error.  The half truth is that the child of God has no inherent strength of his own: says Christ to His disciples, “Without me, ye can do nothing” (John 15:5).  Yet this does not mean that we are to be merely passive, or that the ideal state in this life is simply to be galvanized automations.  There is also a positive, an active, aggressive side to the Christian life, which calls for the putting forth of our utmost endeavors, the use of every faculty, a personal and intelligent co-operation with Christ.

There is not a little of what is known as “the victorious life” teaching which is virtually a denial of the Christian’s responsibility.  It is lopsided.  While emphasizing one aspect of truth, it sadly ignores other aspects equally necessary and important to be kept before us.  God’s Word declares that “every man shall bear his own burden” (Galatians 6:5), which means, that he must discharge his personal obligation.  Saints are bidden to “Cleanse themselves from all filthiness of the flesh and spirit” (2 Cor. 7:1) and to “keep themselves unspotted from the world” (James 1:27).  We are exhorted to “overcome evil with good” (Rom. 12:21).  The apostle Paul declared, “I keep under my body, and bring it into subjection” (1 Cor. 9:27).  Thus, to deny that a Christian is called upon to engage in a ceaseless warfare with the flesh, the world, and the Devil, is to fly in the face of many plain Scriptures.

There is a very real twofoldness to the Christian life and every aspect of Divine truth is balanced by its counterpart.  Practical godliness is a mysterious paradox, which is incomprehensible to the natural man.  The Christian is strongest when he is weakest, wealthiest when he is poorest, happiest when most wretched.  Though unknown (1 John 3:1); yet he is well known (Gal. 4:9).  Though dying daily (1 Cor. 15:31), yea, dead; yet, behold, he lives (Col. 3:3-4).  Though having nothing, yet he possesses all things (2 Cor. 6:10).  Though persecuted, he is not forsaken; cast down, he is not destroyed.  He is called upon to “rejoice with trembling” (Psalm 2:11) and is assured: “Happy are ye that weep now” (Luke 6:21).  Though the Lord makes him to lie down in green pastures and leads him beside still waters, he is yet in the wilderness, and “in a dry and thirsty land, where no water is” (Psalm 63:1).  Though followers of the Prince of Peace, Christians are to endure “hardness as good soldiers of Jesus Christ” (2 Timothy 2:3); and though “more than conquerors,” they are often defeated.

“Fight the good fight of faith” (1 Tim. 6:12). We are called upon to engage in a ceaseless warfare.  The Christian life is to be lived out on the battlefield.  We may not like it, we may wish that it were otherwise, but so has God ordained.  And our worst foe, our most dangerous enemy, is self, that “old man” which ever wants his way, which rebels against the “yoke” of Christ, which hates the “cross”; that “old man” which opposes every desire of the “new man,” which dislikes God’s Word and ever wants to substitute man’s word.  But self has to be “denied” (Matt. 16:24), his “affections and lusts crucified” (Gal. 5:24).  Yet that is by no means an easy task.  O what a conflict is ever going on within the true Christian.  True there are times when the “old man” pretends to be asleep or dead, but soon he revives and is more vigorous than ever in opposing that “new man.”  Then it is that the real Christian seriously asks, “If it be so (that I truly am a child of God) why am I thus?”  Such was Rebekah’s puzzling problem when “the children struggled together within her” (Gen. 25:22).

What a parable in action is set before us in the above Scripture!  Do we need any interpreter?  Does not the Christian have the key which explains that parable in the conflicting experiences of his own soul?  Yes, and is not the sequel the same with you and me, as it was with poor Rebekah?  “She went and inquired of the Lord.”  Ah, her husband could not solve the mystery for her; no man could, nor did she lean unto her own understanding and try and reason it out.  No, the struggle inside her was so great and fierce, she must have Divine assurance.  Nor did God disappoint her and leave her in darkness.  “And the Lord said unto her, Two nations are in thy womb, and two manner of people shall be separated from thy bowels; and the one people shall be stronger than the other people; and the elder shall serve the younger” (Gen. 25:23).  But the meaning of such a verse is hid from those who are, in their own conceits, “wise and prudent.”  But, blessed be God, it is revealed to those who, taught of the Spirit, are made to realize they are babes, that is, who feel they are ignorant, weak, helpless—for that is what “babes” are.  And who were the two nations that “struggled together” inside Rebekah?  Esau and Jacob, from whom two vastly different nations descended, namely, Edom and Israel.  Now observe closely what follows: “And the one people shall be stronger than the other.”  Yes, Esau was so strong that Jacob was afraid of him, and fled from him.  So it is spiritually, the “old man” is stronger than the “new man.”  How strange that it should be so!  Would we not naturally conclude that that which is “born of the Spirit” is stronger than that which is “born of the flesh” (John 3:6)?  Of course, we would naturally think so, for “the natural man receives not the things of the Spirit of God” (1 Cor. 2:14).  But consider the matter from the standpoint of spiritual discernment.  Suppose the “new man” were stronger than the “old man”—then what?  Why, the Christian would be self-sufficient, proud, haughty.  But God, in His infinite wisdom, allows the “new man” in His children to be weaker than the “old man.”  Why?  That they may depend upon Him.  But it is one thing to know the theory of this, and it is quite another to put it into practice.  It is the one thing to believe the “new man” (Jacob) is weaker then the “old man” (Esau, who was born first!), and it is quite another thing to daily seek and obtain from God the needed strength to “fight” against the “old man.”  That is why it is called the “good fight of faith,” for faith treats with God.

“Fight the good fight of faith” (1 Tim. 6:12). Our circumstances are the battleground.  The “flesh” is never long satisfied with the “circumstances” in which God places us, but always wants to change them, or get into another set than we are now in.  Thus it was with Israel of old.  The “circumstances” into which God had brought the children of Israel was the wilderness, and they murmured, and wished they were back in Egypt.  And that is written as a warning for us!  The tendency of circumstances is to bind our hearts to the earth: when prosperous, to make us satisfied with things: when adverse, to make us repine over or covet the things which we do not have.  Nothing but the exercise of real faith can lift our hearts above circumstances, for faith looks away from all things seen, so that the heart delights itself and finds its peace and joy in the Lord (Psalm 37:4).  This is never easy to any of us; it is always a fight, and only Divine grace (diligently sought) can give us the victory.  Oftentimes we fail; when we do, this must be confessed to God (1 John 1:9) and a fresh start made.

Nothing but faith can enable us to rise above “circumstances.” It did so in the case of the two apostles, who, with feet fast in the stocks, with backs bleeding and smarting, sang praises to God in Philippi’s dungeon; that was faith victorious over most unpleasant circumstances.  We can almost imagine each reader saying, “Alas, my faith is so weak.”  Ah, ponder again this word; “Fight the good fight of faith.”  Note the repetition!  It is not easy for faith to rise above circumstances; no, it is not.  It is difficult, at times, extremely difficult; so the writer has found it.  But remember, a “fight” is not finished in a moment, by one blow; oftentimes the victor receives many wounds and is sorely pounded before he finally knocks-out his enemy.  So we have found it, and still find it: the great enemy, the “flesh” (self) gives the “new man” many a painful blow, often floors him; but, by grace, we keep on fighting.  Sometimes the “new man” gets the victory, sometimes the “old man” does.  “For a just man falleth seven times and riseth up again” (Prov. 24:16).

Yes, dear reader, every real Christian has a “fight” on his hands: self is the chief enemy which has to be conquered; our circumstances the battle-ground where the combat has to be waged.  And each of us would very much like to change the battle-ground.  There are unpleasant things which, at times, sorely try each of us, until we are tempted to cry with the afflicted Psalmist, “O that I had wings like a dove, that I might fly away” (Psalm 55:6).  Yes, sad to say, the writer has been guilty of the same thing.  But, when he is in his right mind (spiritually), he is thankful for these very “circumstances.”  Why?  Because they afford an opportunity for faith to act and rise above them, and for us to find our peace, our joy, our satisfaction, not in pleasant surroundings, not in congenial friends, nor even in sweet fellowship with brethren and sisters in Christ; but—in God!  He can satisfy the soul.  He never fails those who truly trust Him.  But it is a fight to do so.  Yes, a real, long, hard fight.  Yet, if we cry to God for help, for strength, for determination, He does not fail us, but makes us “more than conquerors.”

There is that in each of us which wants to play the coward, run away from the battlefield, our “circumstances.”  This is what Abraham did (Genesis 12:10), but he gained nothing by it.  This is what Elijah did (1 Kings 19:3), and the Lord rebuked him for it.  And these instances are recorded “for our learning” (Romans 15:4), as warnings for us to take to heart.  They tell us that we must steadfastly resist this evil inclination, and call to mind that exhortation, “Watch ye, stand fast in the faith, quit you (act) like men, be strong” (1 Cor. 16:13).

“Fight the good fight of faith.” Nor does the Lord call upon us to do something from which He was exempted.  O what a “fight” the Captain of our salvation endured!  See Him yonder in the wilderness: “forty days tempted of Satan, and was with the wild beast” (Mark 1:13), and all that time without food (Matthew 4:2).  How fiercely the Devil assaulted Him, renewing his attack again and yet again.  And the Savior met and conquered him on the ground of faith, using only the Word of God.  See Him again in Gethsemane; there the fight was yet fiercer, and so intense were His agonies that He sweat great drops of blood.  Nor was there any comfort from His disciples: they could not watch with Him one hour.  Yet He triumphed, and that, on the ground of faith: “when He had offered up prayers and supplications with strong crying and tears unto Him that was able to save Him from death, and was heard in that He feared” (Heb. 5:7).

Those two instances are recorded for our instruction, and, as ever, their order is beautifully significant.  They teach us how we are to “fight the good fight of faith.”  Christ Himself has “left us an example!”  And what do we learn from these solemn and sacred incidents?  This: the only weapon we are to use is the Sword of the Spirit; and, victory is only to be obtained on our knees—“with strong crying and tears.”  The Lord graciously enables us so to act.  O that each of us may more earnestly seek grace to fight the good fight of faith.

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