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The Right Kind of Mourning by A. W. Pink

January 2, 2010 by ADMIN

“Blessed are they that mourn; for they shall be comforted.”

Mourning is hateful and irksome to poor human nature: from suffering and sadness our spirits instinctively shrink. It is natural for us to seek the society of the cheerful and joyous. The verse now before us presents an anomaly to the unregenerate, yet it is sweet music to the ears of God’s elect: if “blessed” why do they “mourn”? If they mourn, how can they be blessed? Only the child of God has the key to this paradox, for ” happy are they who sorrow” is at complete variance with the world’s logic. Men have, in all places and in all ages, deemed the prosperous and the gay to be the happy ones, but Christ pronounces blessed those who are poor in spirit and who mourn.

Now it is obvious that it is not every type of mourning which is referred to here. There are thousands of mourners in the world today who do not come within the scope of our text: those mourning over blighted hopes, over financial reverses, over the loss of loved ones. But alas, so far from many of them coming beneath this divine benediction, they are under God’s condemnation; nor is there an promise that such shall ever be Divinely “comforted.” There are three kinds of “mourning” referred to in the Scriptures: a natural, such as we have just referred to above, a sinful, which is a disconsolate and inordinate grief, refusing to be comforted, or a hopeless remorse like that of Judas; and a gracious, a “godly sorrow,” of which the Holy Spirit is the Author.

The mourning ” of our text is a spiritual one. The previous verse indicates clearly the line of thought here: “Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.” Yes, “Blessed are the poor,” not they are poor in purse, but the poor in heart: those who realize themselves to be spiritual bankrupts in themselves, paupers before God. That felt poverty of spirit is the very opposite of the Laodiceanism which is so rife today which says, “I am rich, and increased with goods, and have need of nothing.” In like manner, it is spiritual mourning which is in view here. Further proof of this is found in the fact that Christ pronounces these mourners “blessed.” They are so because the Spirit of God has wrought a work of grace within them, and hence they have been awakened to see and feel their lost condition. They are ” blessed ” because God does not leave them at that point: “they shall be comforted.”

“Blessed are they that mourn.” The first reference is to that initial mourning which precedes a genuine conversion, for there must be a real sense of sin before the remedy for it will even be desired. Thousands acknowledge that they are sinners, who have never mourned over the fact. Take the woman of Luke 7, who washed the Savior’s feet with her tears. Have you ever shed any over your sins? Take the prodigal in Luke 15. Before he left the far country, he said, “I will arise and go unto my Father and say unto him, ‘Father, I have sinned against heaven, and before Thee, and am no more worthy to be called Thy son’”–where shall we find those today with this sense of their sinnership? Take the publican of Luke 18. Why did he “smite upon his breast” and say “God be merciful to me a sinner”? Because he felt the plague of his own heart. So of the three thousand converted on the day of Pentecost: they were “pricked in their heart, and cried out.”

This “mourning” springs from a sense of sin, from a tender conscience from a broken heart. It is a godly sorrow over rebellion against God and hostility to His will. In some cases, it is grief over the very morality in which the heart has trusted, over the self-righteousness which has caused such complacency. This “mourning” is the agonizing realization that it was my sins which nailed to the Cross the Lord of glory. It is such tears and groans which prepare the heart to truly welcome and receive the “balm of Gilead,” the comfort of the Gospel. It is, then, a mourning over the felt destitution of our spiritual state, and over the iniquities that have separated between us and God. Such mourning always goes side by side with conscious poverty of spirit.

But this “mourning” is by no means to be confined unto the initial experience of conviction and contrition for observe the tense the verb: it is not “have mourned,” but “mourn”–a present and continuous experience. The Christian himself has much to mourn over. The sins which he now commits–of omission and commission–are a sense of daily grief to him, or should be, and will be, if his conscience is kept tender. An ever-deepening discovery of the depravity of his nature, the plague of his heart, the sea of corruption within–ever polluting all that he does–deeply exercises him. Consciousness of the surgings of unbelief, the swellings of pride, the coldness of his love, and his lack of fruit, make him cry, “O wretched man that I am.”

Yes, “Ourselves also, which have the first fruits of the Spirit, even we ourselves groan within ourselves” (Romans 8:23). Does not the Christian groan under the disciplining rod of the Father: “No chastening for the present seemeth to be joyous, but grievous” (Heb. 12:11). And is he not deeply grieved by the awful dishonor which is now done to the Lord Jesus on every hand? The fact is that the closer the Christian lives to God, the more will he mourn over all that dishonors Him.

But let us return to the primary thought of our verse: “Blessed are they that mourn” has immediate reference to the convicted soul sorrowing over his sins. And here it is most important to note that Christ does not pronounce them “blessed” simply because they are mourners, but because they are such, mourners as “shall be comforted.” There are not a few Christians today who glory in their grief and attempt to find comfort in their own inward wretchedness–as well seek health from our sicknesses. True comfort is not to be found in anything in self–no, not in perceiving our own vileness–but in Christ alone. Distress of soul is by no means always the same thing as evangelical repentance, as is clear from the case of Cain (Gen. 4:13). But where the Spirit produces in the heart a godly sorrow for sin, He does not leave him there, but brings him to look away from sin to the Lamb of God, and then he is “comforted.” The Gospel promises no mercy except to those who forsake sin and close with Christ.

“They shall be comforted.” This gracious promise receives its fulfillment, first, in that Divine consolation which immediately follows sound conversion (i.e. one that is preceded by conviction and contrition), namely the removal of that conscious load of guilt which lies as an intolerable burden on the conscience. It finds its accomplishment in the Spirit’s application of the Gospel of God’s grace to the one whom He has convicted of his dire need of a Savior. Then it is Christ that speaks the word of power, “Come unto Me all ye that labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest” (Matt. 11:28). Observe that His language clearly presupposes the feeling of sin to be a “burden” that impels to Him for relief. It is to the sin-sick heart that Christ gives rest. This “comfort” issues in a sense of a free and full forgiveness through the merits of the atoning blood of Christ. This Divine comfort is the grace of God which passeth all understanding, filling the heart of one who is now assured that he is “accepted in the Beloved.” First God wounds and then heals.

Second, there is a continual “comforting” of the mourning saint by the Holy Spirit, who is the Comforter. The one who sorrows over his departures from Christ is comforted by the assurance that “if we confess our sins, He is faithful and just to forgive us our sins, and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness” (I John 1:9). The one who turns under the chastening rod of God is comforted by the promise, “afterward it yieldeth the peaceable fruit of righteousness unto them which are exercised thereby” (Heb. 12:11). The one who grieves over the awful dishonor done to his Lord is comforted by the fact that Satan’s time is short, and Christ will bruise him beneath His feet. Third, the final “comfort” is when we leave this world and are done with sin forever. Then shall “sorrow and sighing flee away.” To the rich man , Abraham said of the one who had begged at his gate, “now he is comforted ” (Luke 16:25). The “comfort” of heaven will more than compensate for all the “mourning” of earth.

From all that has been before us learn, first, the folly of looking to the wounds which sin has made in order to find consolation; view rather the purging and healing blood of Christ. Second, see the error of attempting to measure the helpfulness of the books we read or the preaching we hear by the degree of peace and joy they bring to our hearts. Yet how many there are who say, “We have quite enough in the world, or in the home, to make us miserable, so we go to church for comfort.” But it is to be feared that few of them are in any condition of soul to receive comfort from the Gospel: rather do they need the Law to search and convict them. Ah, the truth friend, that very often the sermon or the article which is of the most benefit is the one which causes us to get alone with God and weep before Him. When we have flirted with the world or indulged the lusts of the flesh, the Holy Spirit gives us a rebuke or admonition. Third, mark then the inseparable connection between godly sorrow and godly joy: compare Psalm 30: 5; 127: 5; Proverbs 14: 10; Isaiah 61:3; II Corinthians 4: l0; I Thessalonians 1:6; James 2:13.

The current formatting and editing is copyrighted by Jim Ehrhard, 1999. You are permitted to reproduce and distribute this material in any format provided that: (1) you credit the author; (2) any modifications are clearly marked; (3) you do not charge a fee beyond the cost of reproduction; and (4) you do not make more than 100 copies without permission. If you would like to post this material to your web site or make any use other than as defined above, please contact Teaching Resources International

Posted in A. W. Pink |

Poor in Spirit by Jim Ehrhard

January 2, 2010 by ADMIN

No one likes to be “poor” in anything. We certainly do not like to be poor in finances, we definitely do not want to be considered poor in character or abilities. Why then would Jesus tell us that we are blessed if we are “poor in spirit?” While this beatitude may be strange to us, it is important that we understand its meaning, for being “poor in spirit” is essential, not only to being blessed in this life, but also to being saved in eternity.

Let’s examine four questions about this beatitude: Why does Jesus begin the Beatitudes with the “poor in spirit?”; What does he mean by “poor in spirit?”; What are the evidences or effects of being “poor in spirit?”; and How does one become “poor in spirit?”

Why does he begin with the “poor in spirit?”

1. It is required for entrance into the kingdom of heaven. The Greek is more emphatic than the English on this point. Jesus literally says, “Blessed are the poor in spirit for theirs, and theirs alone, is the kingdom of heaven.” In other words, only one type of person will ever enter the kingdom of heaven and it will not be the proud, those who feel the are “rich in spirit.” In I Corinthians 1, Paul reminds us of this: “Brothers, think of what you were when you were called. Not many of you were wise by human standards; not many were influential; not many were of noble birth. But God chose the foolish things of the world to shame the wise; God chose the weak things of the world to shame the strong. He chose the lowly things of this world and the despised things–and the things that are not–to nullify the things that are, so that no one may boast before him” (vv. 26-29).

Indeed, no one can even come to faith unless they recognize how poor they are in the spirit. When Peter was confronted with the reality of who Jesus was, he saw his spiritual poverty and cried out, “Depart form me for I am a sinful man.” When Paul assessed his own life, he asserted that he was the “chief of sinners.” When two men came to the temple to pray, one felt himself to be better than others while the second stood at the back of the temple and smote his breast saying, “Be merciful unto me, a sinner.” Jesus told his disciples, “I tell you the truth, the last man went sown to his house justified rather than the first.” No one can enter the kingdom of heaven without a humble heart that recognizes its own spiritual poverty. Being “poor in spirit” is required for entrance into the kingdom.

2. It reminds us of our inability. Being “poor in spirit” is not just the entrance into the kingdom, it is the way to live in the kingdom. There is such a tendency in the life of believers to think that, after coming to faith in Christ, they can now make it on their own strength. Jesus reminds us, “Apart from me, you can do nothing” (John 15:5). This beatitude reminds us that God’s blessing on our lives depends on our recognition that we are still “poor in spirit” and we constantly need Him to be blessed in life.

Some, like Robert Schuller, are teaching the opposite. Schuller contends: “When a person believes that he is an ‘unworthy sinner,’ it is doubtful if he can honestly accept the saving grace God offers in Jesus Christ.” Yet the very opposite is true. Why would one need the grace of God unless he recognized his spiritual poverty? Wouldn’t you expect the one with nothing to be the first to flee to Christ at His offer of grace?

Others also contend, “We must love ourselves before we can love others.” But the reason that we don’t reach out and minister to others is not that we don’t love ourselves; it is that we love ourselves all too much. Still others assert that we cannot begin to meet the needs of others until our needs are met. Yet we are never told to focus on ourselves first. Instead, Jesus tells us: “Seek first His kingdom and His righteousness, and all these things will be added to you.” In other words, we are not to seek for ourselves first, but for His kingdom. In doing so, He will care for all our needs.

Our spiritual poverty is a constant reminder of our utter dependence on Him. As long as we think we can do something without Him, we will! But Jesus reminds us that those who always remember their spiritual poverty will be blessed.

3. It is the foundation for spiritual character. “Poor in spirit comes first because it is the foundation for all spiritual graces. One cannot properly “mourn” or be “meek” or “hunger and thirst for righteousness” unless he constantly remembers his true spiritual condition. Whenever anyone believers that he is doing quite well spiritually, he will cease to mourn mover the sin deeply imbedded in his own life and he will not desire to be more righteous. Indeed, the Scriptures also remind us that we cannot expect the blessing of God on our lives unless we have this attitude of being poor in spirit. Proverbs 16:15 tell us that the proud are an abomination in God’s sight. James 4:6 reminds us that God is opposed to the proud. Only those who are poor in the spirit are qualified for God’s blessings and can progress in the other graces mentioned in the beatitudes.

What does He mean by “poor in the spirit?”

First, let us examine what he does not mean. It does not mean that Jesus exalted poverty and said that all who are poor will be blessed. Poverty is never considered a blessing in the Scriptures. Some commentators have even chosen to translate this passage: “Blessed in the spirit are the poor.” While such a translation is grammatically possible, it is highly unlikely. In fact, to follow this line of translating would produce a very peculiar reading of verse 8, “Blessed in the heart are the pure.” The grammatical structure is the same.

To be poor in spirit means at least three things. First, it refers to those who recognize their spiritual bankruptcy. There are two Greek words of “poor” in the New Testament. One word, penes, refers to the working man who has only enough to meet his needs. He has nothing extra at all. The other word is proches. It describes one who is completely destitute. It is a person who has nothing at all. That is the word that Jesus uses here. Those who come to understand the total bankruptcy of their spiritual condition are the ones that Jesus says will be blessed. Not those who think they have some spiritual resources. Not those who feel they have enough to just get by. But only those who see the complete emptiness of their spiritual condition are promised God’s blessing.

Second, it refers to those who are willing to be despised. Most people want to be admired by the world, but that is not an asset in the Christian life. Paul noted: “Am I now trying to win the approval of men, or of God? Or am I trying to please men? If I were still trying to please men, I would not be a servant of Christ” (Gal. 1:10). Once the question of being “poor in spirit” is settled, one will not be swayed by concern over men’s opinions. That person will not care what others think about him; he only cares that he pleases God.

Third, it refers to those who are will to be content. One characteristic of the poor is that they are willing to be satisfied with less. One who is truly poor in spirit has learned how to be “content in what ever state” he is found (Phil. 4:11-12).

How Can I Become “Poor in the Spirit?”

First, quit trying to impress God. The monastic movement was based upon the idea that one becomes poor in the spirit by denying oneself. But all such attempts are really an attempt to impress God with our piety. Martin Luther said, “If ever a man could have gained heaven by monkery, it was I.” He learned that only when one gives up on trying to impress God can he truly be made right with God. Being poor in spirit is a matter of recognizing that we have nothing to give to God and joyfully receiving all He gives to us.

Nothing in my hands I bring, simply to thy cross I cling;

Naked come to thee for dress, Helpless look to thee for grace;

Foul, I to thy fountain fly, Wash me Savior or I die.”

This is true not only for salvation; it is equally essential for living the Christian life. In Revelation 3:15-20, Jesus warns a wealthy church: “I know your deeds, that you are neither cold nor hot. I wish you were either one or the other! So, because you are lukewarm–neither hot nor cold–I am about to spit you out of my mouth. You say, `I am rich; I have acquired wealth and do not need a thing.’ But you do not realize that you are wretched, pitiful, poor, blind and naked.” It is not the poor church that is in danger of not fully serving the Lord. It is the rich church. Poverty is not the greatest danger for the church or for the individual believer. Instead, we must beware of the self-sufficiency that wealth often brings to us.

Second, give up all to follow Jesus. The rich ruler who came to Jesus learned that Jesus will not accept one who does not give up all to follow Him. The real issue was not his wealth, but whether he was willing to give up all that he depended upon to follow Jesus. Jesus himself said: “”The kingdom of heaven is like treasure hidden in a field. When a man found it, he hid it again, and then in his joy went and sold all he had and bought that field. Again, the kingdom of heaven is like a merchant looking for fine pearls. When he found one of great value, he went away and sold everything he had and bought it.” Following Jesus is a matter of trusting Him only. “Nothing in my hand I bring, simply to thy cross I cling” is the lifelong song of everyone who is truly poor in spirit.

Copyright Jim Ehrhard, 1999. You are permitted to reproduce and distribute this material in any format provided that: (1) you credit the author; (2) any modifications are clearly marked; (3) you do not charge a fee beyond the cost of reproduction; and (4) you do not make more than 100 copies without permission. If you would like to post this material to your web site or make any use other than as defined above, please contact Teaching Resources International

Posted in Jim Ehrhard |

The Disciple’s Joy by Jim Ehrhard

January 2, 2010 by ADMIN

While it may be surprising to most people today, the theme of the Beatitudes is how to find real joy in life. Everyone seeks real joy in life. Someone once asked three girls what they wanted to be when they grew up. The first replied, “President of the United States.” The second responded, “The wife of a famous doctor.” The third shrugged and said, “I just want to be happy.”

In reality, all three had the same goal in mind: Happiness. The first two thought happiness could be achieved by their positions or by their associations. But they all wanted to be happy.

The theme of Jesus’ sermon is the joy of discipleship. In the Beatitudes in particular, Jesus points his followers away from what people normally think provides happiness. Instead, he directs them to the source of real happiness: a proper relationship with him.

Nine times in this short passage, Jesus calls certain people “Blessed.” Literally, he is saying that this type of person is exceedingly joyful. That’s the meaning of the word “blessed.” Yet when we read these verses honestly, we sense that happiness could never be found in the things he mentions. Since when is being poor associated with happiness? And how often do we think of those who “mourn” or those that are “persecuted” as being blessed? Certainly from the standpoint of the world, Jesus must be mistaken. Yet he asserts that these people are the ones truly blessed. Let’s examine what he means by this.

The Foundation of the Disciple’s Joy

Jesus tells us something about the foundation of true joy in this passage. To begin with, you cannot find true joy in this life, unless you begin with heaven. If you have not settled the issue of what happens to you in eternity, you can have no true and lasting happiness here on earth. Someone once said: “You have not begun to learn to live until you have learned to die.” Another person noted that the two greatest mistakes in life were both mathematical: “to miscalculate the brevity of life and the length of eternity.”

That’s why Jesus concludes his sermon in Matthew 7 by a reminder about the coming judgment. Your eternal destiny determines your present happiness. Think about it for a moment. If you could be wealthy, popular and live a long life, what good would it do you if you lost it all in eternity? What value would a little bit of pleasure be for a short time here if it only resulted in unending misery later? People avoid such thoughts because they interfere with their feelings of pleasure now. But, even though you may try to suppress those thoughts, you occasionally wonder about eternity and it robs you of present joy.

Even more than that, we must face the reality that whatever we place our joy on here in this world can never fully satisfy. Suppose money and possessions bring you happiness. Many who put their hopes for happiness in money will tell you that some of the richest people in the world are often the least happy. They have learned that having things is no guarantee of happiness. Indeed, it only creates a greater thirst for more things because the things they have never fully satisfy.

Additionally, we must face the reality that whatever we place our present joy on here in this world can be taken away very quickly. How many people have banked their joy on having a certain position in life only to lose that position unexpectedly? How many have felt that some person could bring them real joy in life only to have that person die and leave them wondering if they could ever be happy again? How many have worked all their life to gain certain possessions only to lose it all on a bad deal? Unless your joy is founded on what you have in heaven, you will never have real joy here on earth.

Such thoughts are important for both believers and non-believers alike. For the non-believer to seek happiness apart from Christ is ridiculous. Whatever you may have can be lost forever. What little pleasure and joy you may have now is only temporary at best. One day it will all be gone. Only those who have a right relationship with Jesus can have a joy that transcends this world.

But believers also need to realize the great hope and reward they have awaiting them in heaven. Though we may experience sorrow in this life, all our grief is tempered by the fact that what we receive in heaven can never be taken away. That’s why early Christians could call persecution “blessed;” they knew that “the sufferings of this present age” were not “worthy to be compared with the glory to be revealed” in them in eternity. When we lose possessions here, we know that we have treasure in heaven that can never be stolen or destroyed (Matthew 6:19). When we lose loved ones here, we “grieve not as those who have no hope” for we know the resurrection from the dead for all who are the Lord’s. Christians experience real joy because all they have can never be compared with all they will receive.

The Nature of the Disciple’s Joy

We have seen that no one can have a lasting joy apart from the consideration of eternal things. Many who think they are happy now will one day wake up to the emptiness and temporary-ness of that happiness. Since the believer’s joy does not have its foundation here on earth, his joy is not one that can be shaken by the circumstances around him. That’s why believers often display unusual happiness even when they face unbelievable situations.

But let us move on to examine something of the nature of this joy. In one word, we can describe its nature: it is different. Deitrich Bonhoeffer, in his The Cost of Discipleship, noted that the gap between the believer’s joy and the joy experienced by non-believers widens with each beatitude. The believer finds his joy in things totally different from the things that give joy to others. Let’s examine some of these differences.

First, the believer’s joy is not dependent on circumstances. Notice the paradoxes in these beatitudes. In every case, the very things that would normally make one unhappy Jesus cites as reasons for being called “blessed.” When was the last time you heard someone say, “If I could only be poor. . . if I was only mourning more. . . if I was only more persecuted. . . then I’d really be happy. Yet that is exactly what Jesus says!

Believers do not lose their joy even in the most difficult of circumstances because their joy is not dependent on those circumstances.

Christians face all sorts of difficulties yet they are not troubled. Before they experienced any persecution, Jesus told his disciples, “These things I have spoken to you, that in Me you may have peace. In the world you will have tribulation; but be of good cheer, I have overcome the world” (John 16:33). Christians face difficulties, but even difficulties cannot take away their joy because it does not depend on circumstances.

Second, the believer’s joy is not dependent on worldly possessions. Many say, “I would be happy if I only had. . . .” For some, another job would make them happy. For others, a different spouse or better children would make the crucial difference. For still others, more money or more possessions seems to be the key. But for all the above, even when they get what they thought would provide happiness, they still find an emptiness in their hearts.

The reason is simple: possessions can never fill a spiritual need. Solomon provides the best example. He had everything that a man could ever want: houses, horses, education, women, money. He had more than even the rich could dream about today. But what was his conclusion: it was all vanity–emptiness–unfulfilling! The Puritan Thomas Watson put it best when he noted “the things of this world will no more keep out trouble of spirit than a piece of paper will stop a bullet.” Paul said, “I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances. I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want” (Phil. 4:11-12, NIV). The Christian’s joy is different in that it does not depend upon things for happiness.

The Secret of the Disciple’s Joy

Real joy can only be found in a heavenly focus. How can believers be happy no matter what is going on around them? They are happy because they have learned to have a different focus than non-believers. In Matthew 6:22-23, Jesus reminded his disciples about the importance of the “single eye.” What he referred to was the ability to keep one’s eye focused on the single goal. That goal is a heavenly goal, not an earthly one. Paul says the same thing at the end of Philippians 3: ” Join with others in following my example, brothers, and take note of those who live according to the pattern we gave you. For, as I have often told you before and now say again even with tears, many live as enemies of the cross of Christ. Their destiny is destruction, their god is their stomach, and their glory is in their shame. Their mind is on earthly things. But our citizenship is in heaven” (vv. 17-20). Notice the contrast: “their mind is set on earthly things;” our mind is set on our citizenship “in heaven.” The believer who has joy in this life is one who has learned to set his “mind on things above, not on earthly things” (Col. 3:2).

Look carefully at the difference. The joy of believers is characterized by the things they admire. What do you admire: pride, power, popularity? Or do you admire those who are humble, those who hunger and thirst after righteousness, those who mourn, those who are persecuted? J. B. Phillips paraphrased the beatitudes to show how we today admire the exact opposite of what Jesus desires.

Happy are the pushers, for they get on in this world.

Happy are the hard boiled; they never let life hurt them.

Happy are those who complain; they get their way in the end.

Happy are the blase, for they never worry about their sins.

Happy are the slave drivers, for they get results.

Happy are the knowledgeable men of the world, for they know how to get around.

Happy are the trouble-makers, for they make people take notice of them.

Notice the tremendous difference! The world admires an entirely different set of characteristics. Believers are distinguished by what they admire.

Second, they are distinguished by what they seek in life. What do you hunger for? What do you desire more than anything else? Jesus said, “Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness.” Near the end of his sermon, Jesus reminds his disciples: “For after all these things the Gentiles seek. . . . But you seek first the kingdom of God and His righteousness, and all these things shall be added to you” (Matt. 6:32-33). What are you seeking in life? The secret of the disciple’s joy is found in seeking His righteousness and His kingdom first. But to seek the right things, we must begin to admire the right things. What a person admires, they will usually seek.

How different are believers from non-believers! That’s the message of the beatitudes. But often we as believers have slipped into admiring and seeking the same things as the world admires and seeks. The result is that we lose our joy because a joy rooted in this world can change at any moment. A joy focused on the life to come can never be taken away from us. What is the foundation of your joy?

Copyright Jim Ehrhard, 1999. You are permitted to reproduce and distribute this material in any format provided that: (1) you credit the author; (2) any modifications are clearly marked; (3) you do not charge a fee beyond the cost of reproduction; and (4) you do not make more than 100 copies without permission. If you would like to post this material to your web site or make any use other than as defined above, please contact Teaching Resources International

Posted in Jim Ehrhard |

Counterfeit Repentance by Thomas Watson

January 2, 2010 by ADMIN

To discover what true repentance is, I shall first show what it is not. There are several deceits of repentance which might occasion that saying of Augustine that “repentance damns many.” He meant a false repentance; a person may delude himself with counterfeit repentance.

I. The first deceit of repentance is legal terror.

A man has gone on long in sin. At last God arrests him, shows him what desperate hazard he has run, and he is filled with anguish. Within a while the tempest of conscience is blown over, and he is quiet. Then he concludes that he is a true penitent because he has felt some bitterness in sin. Do not be deceived: this is not repentance. Ahab and Judas had some trouble of mind. It is one thing to be a terrified sinner and another to be a repenting sinner. Sense of guilt is enough to breed terror. Infusion of grace breeds repentance. If pain and trouble were sufficient to repentance, then the damned in hell should be most penitent, for they are most in anguish. Repentance depends upon a change of heart. There may be terror, yet with no change of heart.

II. Another deceit about repentance is resolution against sin.

A person may purpose and make vows, yet be not penitent. “Thou saidst, I will not transgress” (Jer. 2.20). Here was a resolution; but see what follows: “under every green tree thou wanderest, playing the harlot.” Notwithstanding her solemn engagements, she played fast and loose with God and ran after her idols. We see by experience what protestations a person will make when he is on his sick-bed, if God should recover him again; yet he is as bad as ever. He shows his old heart in a new temptation.

Resolutions against sin may arise:

(1) From present extremity; not because sin is sinful, but because it is painful. This resolution will vanish.

(2) From fear of future evil, an apprehension of death and hell: “I looked, and behold a pale horse: and his name that sat on him was Death, and Hell followed with him” (Rev. 6.8). What will not a sinner do, what vows will he not make, when he knows he must die and stand before the judgment-seat? Self-love raises a sickbed vow, and love of sin will prevail against it. Trust not to a passionate resolution; it is raised in a storm and will die in a calm.

III. The third deceit is the leaving of many sinful ways.

It is a great matter, I confess, to leave sin. So dear is sin to a man that he will rather part with a child than with a lust: “Shall I give the fruit of my body for the sin of my soul?” (Mic. 6.7). Sin may be parted with, yet without repentance.

(1) A man may part with some sins and keep others, as Herod reformed many things that were amiss but could not leave his incest.

(2) An old sin may be left in order to entertain a new, as you put off an old servant to take another. This is to exchange a sin. Sin may be exchanged and the heart remained unchanged. He who was a prodigal in his youth turns usurer in his old age. A slave is sold to a Jew; the Jew sells him to a Turk. Here the master is changed, but he is a slave still. So a man moves from one vice to another but remains a sinner still.

(3) A sin may be left not so much from strength of grace as from reasons of prudence. A man sees that though such a sin be for his pleasure, yet it is not for his interest. It will eclipse his credit, prejudice his health, impair his estate. Therefore, for prudential reasons, he dismisses it.

True leaving of sin is when the acts of sin cease from the infusion of a principle of grace, as the air ceases to be dark from the infusion of light.

From The Doctrine of Repentance.

The current formatting and editing is copyrighted by Jim Ehrhard, 1999. You are permitted to reproduce and distribute this material in any format provided that: (1) you credit the author; (2) any modifications are clearly marked; (3) you do not charge a fee beyond the cost of reproduction; and (4) you do not make more than 100 copies without permission. If you would like to post this material to your web site or make any use other than as defined above, please contact Teaching Resources International

Posted in Thomas Watson |

Hudson Taylor’s Favorite Text by Frank Boreham

January 2, 2010 by ADMIN

Frank Boreham was a pastor in New Zealand and Australia in the late 1800s and early 1900s. One Sunday evening, he began a series of sermons entitled, “Texts That Made History.” He began that first Sunday with “Martin Luther’s Text,” and continued the series for 125 Sundays!

This article deals with Hudson Taylor’s text. Taylor was a pioneering missionary to inland China and founder of the China Inland Mission in 1865.

The day on which James Hudson Taylor–then a boy in his teens–found himself confronted by that tremendous text was, as he himself testified in old age, “a day that he could never forget.” It is a day that China can never forget; a day that the world can never forget. It was a holiday; everybody was away from home; and the boy found time hanging heavily upon his hands.

In an aimless way he wandered, during the afternoon, into his father’s library, and poked about among the shelves. “I tried,” he says, “to find some book with which to while away the leaden hours. Nothing attracting me, I turned over a basket of pamphlets and selected from among them a tract that looked interesting. I knew that it would have a story at the commencement and a moral at the close; but I promised myself that I would enjoy the story and leave the rest. It would be easy to put away the tract as soon as it should seem prosy.”

He scampers off to the stable loft, throws himself on the hay, and plunges into the book. He is captivated by the narrative, and finds it impossible to drop the book when the story comes to an end. He reads on and on. He is rewarded by one great golden word whose significance he has never before discovered: “The Finished Work of Christ!” The theme entrances him; and at last he only rises from his bed in the soft hay that he may kneel on the hard floor of the loft and surrender his young life to the Savior who had surrendered everything for him. If, he asked himself, as he lay upon the hay, if the whole work was finished, and the whole debt paid upon the Cross, what is there left for me to do? “And then,” he tells us, “there dawned upon me the joyous conviction that there was nothing in the world to be done but to fall upon my knees, accept the Savior and praise Him for evermore.”

“It is finished!” “When Jesus, therefore, had received the vinegar he said, “It is finished!” and He bowed His head and gave up the ghost.”

“Then there dawned upon me the joyous conviction that, since the whole work was finished and the whole debt paid upon the Cross, there was nothing for me to do but to fall upon my knees, accept the Savior and praise Him for evermore!”

“It is finished!” It is really only one word: the greatest word ever uttered; we must examine it for a moment as a lapidary examines under a powerful glass a rare and costly gem.

It was a farmer’s word. When, into his herd, there was born an animal so beautiful and shapely that it seemed absolutely destitute of faults and defects, the farmer gazed upon the creature with proud, delighted eyes. “Tetelestai!” he said, “tetelestai!”

It was an artist’s word. When the painter or the sculptor had put the last finishing touches to the vivid landscape or the marble bust, he would stand back a few feet to admire his masterpiece, and, seeing in it nothing that called for correction or improvement, would murmur fondly, “Tetelestai! tetelestai!”

It was a priestly word. When some devout worshiper, overflowing with gratitude for mercies shown him, brought to the temple a lamb without spot or blemish, the pride of the whole flock, the priest, more accustomed to seeing the blind and defective animals led to the altar, would look admiringly upon the pretty creature. “Tetelestai!” he would say, “tetelestai!” And when, in the fullness of time, the Lamb of God offered Himself on the altar of the ages, he rejoiced with a joy so triumphant that it bore down all His anguish before it. The sacrifice was stainless, perfect, finished! “He cried with a loud voice, ‘Tetelestai!’ and gave up the ghost.”

This divine self-satisfaction appears only twice, once in each Testament. When He completed the work of Creation, He looked upon it and said that it was very good; when He completed the work of redemption, He cried with a loud voice, “Tetelestai!” It means exactly the same thing.

In his own narrative of his conversion, Hudson Taylor quotes James Proctor’s well-known hymn: that hymn that, in one of his essays, Froude criticizes so severely:

Nothing either great or small,

Nothing, sinner, no;

Jesus did it, did it all,

Long, long ago.

“It is Finished!” yes, indeed,

Finished every jot;

Sinner, this is all you need;

Tell me, is it not?

Cast your deadly doing down,

Down at Jesus’ feet;

Stand in Him, in Him alone,

Gloriously complete.

Froude maintains that these verses are immoral. It is only by “doing,” he argues, that the work of the world can ever get done. And if you describe “doing” as “deadly” you set a premium upon indolence and lessen the probabilities of attainment. The best answer to Froude’s plausible contention is The Life of Hudson Taylor. Hudson Taylor became convinced, as a boy, that “the whole work was finished and the whole debt paid.” “There is nothing for me to do,” he says, “but to fall down on my knees and accept the Savior.” The chapter in his biography that tells of this spiritual crisis is entitled “The Finished Work of Christ,” and it is headed by the quotation:

Upon a life I did not live,

Upon a death I did not die,

Another’s life, Another’s death

I stake my whole eternity.

And, as I have said, the very words that Froude so bitterly condemns are quoted by Hudson Taylor as a reflection of his own experience. And the result? The result is that Hudson Taylor became one of the most prodigious toilers of all time. So far from his trust in “The Finished Work of Christ” inclining him to indolence, he felt that he must toil most terribly to make so perfect a Savior known to the whole wide world. There lies on my desk a Birthday Book which I very highly value. It was given me at the docks by Mr. Thomas Spurgeon as I was leaving England. If you open it at the twenty-first of May you will find these words: “‘Simply to Thy Cross I cling’ is but half of the Gospel. No one is really clinging to the Cross who is not at the same time faithfully following Christ and doing whatsoever He commands;” and against those words of Dr. J. R. Miller’s in my Birthday Book, you may see the autograph of J. Hudson Taylor. He was our guest at the Mosgiel Manse when he set his signature to those striking and significant sentences.

“We Build Like Giants; We Finish Like Jewelers!”–so the old Egyptians wrote over the portals of their palaces and temples. I like to think that the most gigantic task ever attempted on this planet–the work of the world’s redemption–was finished with a precision and a nicety that no jeweler could rival.

“It is finished!” He cried from the cross.

“Tetelestai! Tetelestai!”

When He looked upon His work in Creation and saw that it was good, He placed it beyond the power of man to improve upon it.

To gild refine’d gold, to paint the lily,

To throw a perfume on the violet,

To smooth the ice, or add another hue

Unto the rainbow, or with taper-light

To seek the beauteous eye of heaven to garnish,

Is wasteful and ridiculous excess.

And, similarly, when He looked upon His work in redemption and cried triumphantly, “Tetelestai!” He placed it beyond the power of any man to add to it. There are times when any addition is a subtraction. Some years ago, White House at Washington–the residence of the American Presidents–was in the hands of the painters and decorators. Two large entrance doors had been painted to represent black walnut. The contractor ordered his men to scrape and clean them in readiness for repainting, and they set to work. But when their knives penetrated to the solid timber, they discovered to their astonishment that it was heavy mahogany of a most exquisite natural grain! The work of that earlier decorator, so far from adding to the beauty of the timber, had only served to conceal its essential and inherent glory. It is easy enough to add to the wonders of creation or of redemption; but you can never add without subtracting. “It is finished!”

Many years ago, Ebenezer Wooton, an earnest but eccentric evangelist, was conducting a series of summer evening services on the village green at Lidford Brook. The last meeting had been held; the crowd was melting slowly away; and the evangelist was engaged in taking down the marquee. All at once a young fellow approached him and asked, casually rather than earnestly, “Mr. Wooton, what must I do to be saved?” The preacher took the measure of his man. “Too late!” he said, in a matter of fact kind of way, glancing up from a somewhat obstinate tentpeg with which he was struggling.

“Too late, my friend, too late!” The young fellow was startled.

“Oh, don’t say that, Mr. Wooton!” he pleaded, a new note coming into his voice. “Surely it isn’t too late just because the meetings are over?” “Yes, my friend,” exclaimed the evangelist, dropping the cord in his hand, straightening himself up, and looking right into the face of his questioner, “it’s too late! You want to know what you must do to be saved, and I tell you that you’re hundreds of years too late! The work of salvation is done, completed, finished! It was finished on the cross; Jesus said so with the last breath that He drew! What more do you want?” And, then and there, it dawned upon the now earnest inquirer on the village green as, at about the same time, it dawned upon young Hudson Taylor in the hay-loft, that “since the whole work was finished and the whole debt paid upon the cross, there was nothing for him to do but to fall upon his knees and accept the Savior.” And there, under the elms, the sentinel stars witnessing the great transaction, he kneeled in glad thanksgiving and rested his soul for time and for eternity on “The Finished Work of Christ.”

“The Finished Work of Christ!”

“Tetelestai! Tetelestai!”

“It is finished!”

It is not a sigh of relief at having reached the end of things. It is the unutterable joy of the artist who, putting the last touches to the picture that has engrossed him for so long, sees in it the realization of all his dreams and can nowhere find room for improvement. Only once in the world’s history did a finishing touch bring a work to absolute perfection; and on that day of days a single flaw would have shattered the hope of the ages.

This article does not contain the complete essay by Frank Boreham. Much has been edited for space. Also, many spellings have been changed to conform to American style. For the original, see a recent reprint by Kregel entitled Life Verses: The Bible’s Impact on Famous Lives, Vol. 2, pp. 102-112

The current formatting and editing is copyrighted by Jim Ehrhard, 1999. You are permitted to reproduce and distribute this material in any format provided that: (1) you credit the author; (2) any modifications are clearly marked; (3) you do not charge a fee beyond the cost of reproduction; and (4) you do not make more than 100 copies without permission. If you would like to post this material to your web site or make any use other than as defined above, please contact Teaching Resources International

Posted in Frank Boreham |

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