But Scripture sheds scant light on the work of the Holy Spirit. For proof, see how much the Old Testament says of the Messiah and how comparatively little of the Holy Spirit. The little circle of saints, Mary, Simeon, Anna, John, who, standing in the vestibule of the New Testament, could scan the horizon of the Old Testament revelation with a glance—how much they knew of the Person of the Promised Deliverer, and how little of the Holy Spirit! Even including all the New Testament teachings, how scanty is the light upon the work of the Holy Spirit compared with that upon the work of Christ!

And this is quite natural, and could not be otherwise, for Christ is the Word made Flesh, having visible, well-defined form, in which we recognize our own, that of a man, whose outlines follow the direction of our own being. Christ can be seen and heard; once men’s hands could even handle the Word of Life. But the Holy Spirit is entirely different. Of Him nothing appears in visible form; He never steps out from the intangible void. Hovering, undefined, incomprehensible, He remains a mystery. He is as the wind! We hear its sound, but can not tell whence it cometh and whither it goeth. Eye can not see Him, ear can not hear Him, much less the hand handle Him. There are, indeed, symbolic signs and appearances: a dove, tongues of fire, the sound of a rushing, mighty wind, a breathing from the holy lips of Jesus, a laying on of hands, a speaking with foreign tongues. But of all this nothing remains; nothing lingers behind, not even the trace of a footprint. And after the signs have disappeared, His being remains just as puzzling, mysterious, and distant as ever. So almost all the divine instruction concerning the Holy Spirit is likewise obscure, intelligible only so far as He makes it clear to the eye of the favored soul.

We know that the same may be said of Christ’s work, whose real import is apprehended solely by the spiritually enlightened, who behold the eternal wonders of the Cross. And yet what wonderful fascination is there even for a little child in the story of the manger in Bethlehem, of the Transfiguration, of Gabbatha and Golgotha. How easily can we interest him by telling of the heavenly Father who numbereth the hairs of his head, arrayeth the lilies of the field, feedeth the sparrows on the house-top. But is it possible so to engage his attention for the Person of the Holy Spirit? The same is true of the unregenerate: they are not unwilling to speak of the heavenly Father; many speak feelingly of the Manger and of the Cross. But do they ever speak of the Holy Spirit? They can not; the subject has no hold upon them. The Spirit of God is so holily sensitive that naturally He withdraws from the irreverent gaze of the uninitiated.

Christ has fully revealed Himself. It was the love and divine compassion of the Son. But the Holy Spirit has not done so. It is His saving faithfulness to meet us only in the secret place of His love.

This causes another difficulty. Because of His unrevealed character the Church has taught and studied the Spirit’s work much less than Christ’s, and has attained much less clearness in its theological discussion. We might say, since He gave the Word and illuminated the Church, He spoke much more of the Father and the Son than of Himself; not as tho it had been selfish to speak more of Himself—for sinful selfishness is inconceivable in regard to Him—but He must reveal the Father and the Son before He could lead us into the more intimate fellowship with Himself.

This is the reason that there is so little preaching on the subject; that text-books on Systematic Theology rarely treat it separately; that Pentecost (the feast of the Holy Spirit) appeals to the churches and animates them much less than Christmas or Easter; that unhappily many ministers, otherwise faithful, advance many erroneous views upon this subject—a fact of which they and the churches seem unconscious.

Hence special discussion of the theme deserves attention.

That it requires great caution and delicate treatment need not be said. It is our prayer that the discussion may evince such great care and caution as is required, and that our Christian readers may receive our feeble efforts with that love which suffereth long.

II.

Two Standpoints.

“By the word of the Lord were the heavens made; and all the host of them by the breath of His mouth.”— Psalm xxxiii. 6.

The work of the Holy Spirit that most concerns us is the renewing of the elect after the image of God. And this is not all. It even savors of selfishness and irreverence to make this so prominent, as tho it were His only work.

The redeemed are not sanctified without Christ, who is made to them sanctification; hence the work of the Spirit must embrace the Incarnation of the Word and the work of the Messiah. But the work of Messiah involves preparatory working in the Patriarchs and Prophets of Israel, and later activity in the Apostles, i.e., the foreshadowing of the Eternal Word in Scripture. Likewise this revelation involves the conditions of man’s nature and the historical development of the race; hence the Holy Spirit is concerned in the formation of the human mind and the unfolding of the spirit of humanity. Lastly, man’s condition depends on that of the earth: the influences of sun, moon, and stars; the elemental motions; and no less on the actions of spirits, be they angels or demons from other spheres. Wherefore the Spirit’s work must touch the entire host of heaven and earth.

To avoid a mechanical idea of His work as tho it began and ended at random, like piece-work in a factory, it must not be determined nor limited till it extends to all the influences that affect the sanctification of the Church. The Holy Spirit is God, therefore sovereign; hence He can not depend on these influences, but completely controls them. For this He must be able to operate them; so His work must be honored in all the host of heaven, in man and in his history, in the preparation of Scripture, in the Incarnation of the Word, in the salvation of the elect.

But this is not all. The final salvation of the elect is not the last link in the chain of events. The hour that completes their edemption will be the hour of reckoning for all creation. The Biblical revelation of Christ’s return is not a mere pageant closing this preliminary dispensation, but the great and notable event, the consummation of all before, the catastrophe whereby all that is shall receive its due.

In that great and notable day the elements with commotion and awful change shall be combined into a new heaven and earth, i.e., out of these burning elements shall emerge the real beauty and glory of God’s original purpose. Then all ill, misery, plague, everything unholy, every demon, every spirit turned against God shall become truly hellish; that is, every thing ungodly shall receive its due, i.e., a world in which sin has absolute sway. For what is hell other than a realm in which unholiness works without restraint in body and soul? Then man’s personality will recover the unity destroyed by death, and God will grant His redeemed the fruition of that blest hope confessed on earth amid conflict and affliction in the words “I believe in the resurrection of the body.’’ Then shall Christ triumph over every power of Satan, sin, and death, and thus receive His due as the Christ. Then wheat and tares shall be separated; the mingling shall cease, and the hope of God’s people become sight; the martyr shall be in rapture and his Executioner in torment. Then, too, shall the veil be drawn from the Jerusalem that is above. The clouds shall be dispelled that kept us from seeing that God was righteous in all His judgments; then the wisdom and glory of all His counsels shall be vindicated both by Satan and his own in the pit, and by Christ and His redeemed in the city of our God, and the Lord be glorious in all His works.

Thus radiating from the sanctification of the redeemed, we see the work of the Spirit embracing in past ages the Incarnation, the preparation of Scripture, the forming of man and the universe; and, extending into the ages, the Lord’s return, the final judgment, and that last cataclysm that shall separate heaven from hell forever.

This standpoint precludes our viewing the work of the Spirit from that of the salvation of the redeemed. Our spiritual horizon widens; for the chief thing is not that the elect be fully saved, but that God be justified in all His works and glorified through judgment. To all who acknowledge that “He that believeth not on the Son shall not see life, but the wrath of God abiding on him,” (John iii. 36) this must be the only true standpoint.

If we subscribe this awful statement; not having lost our way in the labyrinth of a so-called conditional immortality, which actually annihilates man, then how can we dream of a state of perfect bliss for the elect as long as the lost ones are being tormented by the worm that dieth not? Is there no more love or compassion in our hearts? Can we fancy ourselves for a single moment enjoying heaven’s bliss while the fire is not quenched and no lighted torch is carried into the outer darkness?

To make the bliss of the elect the final end of all things while Satan still roars in the bottomless pit is to annihilate the very thought of such bliss. Love suffers not only when a human being is in pain, but even when an animal is in distress; how much more when an angel gnashes his teeth in torture, and that angel beautiful and glorious as Satan was before his fall. And yet the very mention of Satan unconsciously lifts from our hearts the burden of fellow pain, suffering, and compassion; for we feel immediately that the knowledge of Satan’s suffering in the pit does not in the least appeal to our compassion. On the contrary, to believe that Satan exists but not in utter misery were a wound to our profound sense of justice.

And this is the point: to conceive of the blessedness of a soul not in absolute union with Christ is unholy madness. No one but Christ is blessed, and no man can be blessed but he who is vitally one with Christ—Christ in him and he in Christ. Equally it is unholy madness to conceive of man or angel lost in hell unless he has identified himself with Satan, having become morally one with him. The conception of a soul in hell not morally one with Satan is the most appalling cruelty from which every noble heart recoils with horror.

Every child of God is furious at Satan. Satan is simply unbearable to him. In his inward man (however unfaithful his nature may be) there is bitter enmity, implacable hatred against Satan. Hence it satisfies our holiest conscience to know that Satan is in the bottomless pit. To encourage a plea for him in the heart were treason against God. Sharp agony may pierce his soul like a dagger for the unspeakable depth of his fall, yet as Satan, author of all that is demoniac and fiendish, who has bruised the heel of the Son of God, he can never move our hearts.

III.

The Indwelling and Outgoing Works of God.

“And all the host of them by the breath of His mouth.”—Psalm xxxiii. 6.

The thorough and clear-headed theologians of the most flourishing periods of the Church used to distinguish between the indwelling and outgoing works of God.

The same distinction exists to some extent in nature. The lion watching his prey differs widely from the lion resting among his whelps. See the blazing eye, the lifted head, the strained muscles and panting breath. One can see that the crouching lion is laboring intensely. Yet the act is now only in contemplation. The heat and the ferment, the nerve-tension are all within. A terrible deed is about to be done, but it is still under restraint, until he pounces with thundering roar upon his unsuspecting victim, burying his fangs deep into the quivering flesh.

We find the same distinction in finer form among men. When a storm has raged at sea, and the fate of the absent fishing-smacks that are expected to return with the tide is uncertain, a fisherman’s awe-stricken wife sits on the brow of the sand-hill watching and waiting in speechless suspense. As she waits, her heart and soul labor in prayer; the nerves are tense, the blood runs fast, and breathing is almost suspended. Yet there is no outward act; only labor within. But on the safe return of the smacks, when she sees her own, her burdened heart finds relief in a cry of joy.

Or, taking examples from the more ordinary walks of life, compare the student, the scholar, the inventor thinking out his new invention, the architect forming his plans, the general studying his opportunities, the sturdy sailor nimbly climbing the mast of his ship, or yonder blacksmith raising the sledge to strike the glowing iron upon the anvil with concentrated muscular force. Judging superficially, one would say the blacksmith and sailor work, but the men of learning are idle. Yet he that looks beneath the surface knows better than this. For if those men perform no apparent manual labor, they work with brain, nerve, and blood; yet since those organs are more delicate than hand or foot, their invisible, indwelling work is much more exhausting. With all their labor the blacksmith and sailor are pictures of health, while the men of mental force, apparently idle among their folios, are pale from exhaustion, their vitality being almost consumed by their intense application.

Applying this distinction without its human limitations to the works of the Lord, we find that the outgoing works of God had their beginning when God created the heavens and the earth; and that before that moment which marks the birth of time, nothing existed but God working within Himself. Hence this twofold operation: The first, externally manifest, known to us in the acts of creating, upholding, and directing all things—acts that, compared to those of eternity, seem to have begun but yesterday; for what are thousands of years in the presence of the eternal ages? The second, behind and underneath the first—an operation not begun nor ended, but eternal like Himself; deeper, richer, fuller, yet not manifested, hidden within Him, which we therefore designate indwelling.

Altho these two operations can scarcely be separated—for there never was one manifest without which was not first completed within—yet the difference is strongly marked and easily recognized. The indwelling works of God are from eternity, the outgoing belong to time. The former precede, the latter follow. The foundation of that which becomes visible lies in that which remains invisible. The light itself is hidden, it is the radiation only that appears.

The Scripture, speaking of the indwelling works of God, says: “The counsel of the Lord standeth for ever, and the thoughts of His heart to all generations” (Psalm xxxiii. 11). Since in God heart and thought have no separate existence, but His undivided Essence thinks, feels, and wills, we learn from this significant passage that the Being of God works in Himself from all eternity. This answers the oft-repeated and foolish question, “What did God do before He created the universe?” which is as unreasoning as to ask what the thinker did before he expressed his thoughts, or the architect before he built the house!

God’s indwelling works, which are from everlasting to everlasting, are not insignificant, but surpass His outgoing works in depth and strength as the student’s thinking and the sufferer’s anguish surpass their strongest utterances in intensity. “Could I but weep,” says the afflicted one, “how much more easily could I bear my sorrow!” And what are tears but the outward expression of grief, relieving the pain and strain of the heart? Or think of the child-bearing of the mother before delivery. It is said of the decree that it hath “brought forth” (Zeph. ii. 2), which signifies that the phenomenon is only the result of preparation hidden from the eye, but more real than the production, and without which there would be nothing to bring forth.

Thus the expression of our earlier theologians is justified, and the difference between the indwelling and the outgoing works is patent.

Accordingly the indwelling works of God are the activities of His Being, without the distinction of Persons; while His outgoing works admit and to some extent demand this distinction: e.g., the common and well-known distinguishing of the Father’s work as that of creation, the Son’s as that of redemption, and the Holy Spirit’s as that of sanctification relates only to God’s outgoing works. While these operations—creation, redemption, and sanctification—are hidden in the thoughts of His heart, His counsel, and His Being, it is Father, Son, and Holy Ghost who creates, Father, Son, and Holy Ghost who redeems, Father, Son, and Holy Ghost who sanctifies, without any division or distinction of activities. The rays of light hidden in the sun are indivisible and indistinguishable until they radiate; so in the Being of God the indwelling working is one and undivided; His personal glories remain invisible until revealed in His outgoing works. A stream is one until it falls over the precipice and divides into many drops. So is the life of God one and undivided while hidden within Himself; but when it is poured out into created things its colors stand revealed. As, therefore, the indwelling works of the Holy spirit are common to the three Persons of the Godhead, we do not discuss them, but treat only those operations that bear the personal marks of His outgoing works.

But we do not mean to teach that the distinction of the personal attributes of Father, Son, and Holy Ghost did not exist in the divine Being, but originated only in His outward activities.

The distinction of Father, Son, and Holy Spirit is the divine characteristic of the Eternal Being, His mode of subsistence, His deepest foundation; to think of Him without that distinction would be absurd. Indeed, in the divine and eternal economy of Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, each of the divine Persons lives and loves and lauds according to His own personal characteristics, so that the Father remains Father toward the Son, and the Son remains Son toward the Father, and the Holy Spirit proceeds from both.

It is right to ask how this agrees with the statement made above; that the indwelling works of God belong, without distinction of Persons, to Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, and are therefore the works of the divine Being. The answer is found in the careful distinction of the twofold nature of the indwelling works of God.

Some operations in the divine Being are destined to be revealed in time; others will remain forever unrevealed. The former concern the creation; the latter, only the relations of Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Take, for instance, election and eternal generation. Both are indwelling operations of God, but with marked difference. The Father’s eternal generation of the Son can never be revealed, but must ever be the mystery of the Godhead; while election belongs as decree to the indwelling works of God, yet is destined in the fulness of time to become manifest in the call of the elect.

Regarding the permanently indwelling works of God that do not relate to the creature, but flow from the mutual relation of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, the distinctive characteristics of the three Persons must be kept in view. But with those that are to become manifest, relating to the creature, this distinction disappears. Here the rule applies that all indwelling works are activities of the divine Being without distinction of Persons. To illustrate: In the home there are two kinds of activities one flowing from the mutual relation of parents and children, another pertaining to the social life. In the former the distinction between parents and children is never ignored; in the latter, if the relation be normal, neither the father nor the children act alone, but the family as a whole. Even so in the holy, mysterious economy of the divine Being, every operation of the Father upon the Son and of both upon the Holy Spirit is distinct; but in every outgoing act it is always the one divine Being, the thoughts of whose heart are for all His creatures. On that account the natural man knows no more than that he has to do with a God.

The Unitarians, denying the Holy Trinity, have never reached anything higher than that which can be seen by the light of the darkened human understanding. We often discover that many baptized with water but not with the Holy Spirit speak of the Triune God because others do. For themselves they know only that He is God. This is why the discriminating knowledge of the Triune God can not illuminate the soul until the light of redemption shines within, and the Day-star arises in man’s heart. Our Confession correctly expresses this, saying: “All this we know as well from the testimony of Holy Writ as from their operations, and chiefly by those we feel in ourselves” (art. ix.).

IV.

The Work of the Holy Spirit Distinguished.

“And the Spirit of God moved upon the face of the waters.”—Gen. i. 2.

What, in general, is the work of the Holy Spirit as distinguished from that of the Father and of the Son?

Not that every believer needs to know these distinctions in all particulars. The existence of faith does not depend upon intellectual distinctions. The main question is not whether we can distinguish the work of the Father from that of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, but whether we have experienced their gracious operations. The root of the matter, not the name, decides.

Must we then slightly value a clear understanding of sacred things? Shall we deem it superfluous and call its great matters hair-splitting questions? By no means. The human mind searches every department of life. Scientists deem it an honor to spend their lives in analyzing the minutest plants and insects, describing every particular, naming every member of the dissected organism. Their work is never called “hair-splittings,” but is distinguished as “scientific research.” And rightly so, for without differentiation there can be no insight, and without insight there can be no thorough acquaintance with the subject. Why, then, call this same desire unprofitable when it directs the attention not to the creature, but to the Lord God our Creator?

Can there be any worthier object of mental application than the eternal God? Is it right and proper to insist upon correct discrimination in every other sphere of knowledge, and yet regarding the knowledge of God to be satisfied with generalities and confused views? Has God not invited us to share the intellectual knowledge of His Being? Has He not given us His Word? And does not the Word illumine the mysteries of His Being, His attributes, His perfections, His virtues, and the mode of His subsistence? If we aspired to penetrate into things too high for us, or to unveil the unrevealed, reverence would require us to resist such audacity. But since we aim in godly fear to listen to Scripture, and to receive the proffered knowledge of the deep things of God, there can be no room for objection. We would say rather to those who frown upon such effort: “Ye can discern the face of the sky, but ye can not discern the face of your Father in heaven.”

Hence the question concerning the work of the Holy Spirit as distinguished from that of the Father and of the Son is quite legitimate and necessary.

It is deplorable that many of God’s children have confused conceptions in this respect. They can not distinguish the works of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Even in prayer they use the divine names indiscriminately. Altho the Holy Spirit is explicitly called the Comforter, yet they seek comfort mostly from the Father or the Son, unable to say why and what in sense the Holy Spirit is especially called Comforter.

The early Church already felt the need of clear and exact distinctions in this matter; and the great thinkers and Christian philosophers whom God gave to the Church, especially the Eastern Fathers, expended their best powers largely upon this subject. They saw very clearly that unless the Church learned to distinguish the works of the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, its confession of the Holy Trinity could be but a dead sound. Compelled not by love of subtleties, but by the necessity of the Church, they undertook to study these distinctions. And God let heretics vex His Church so as to arouse the mind by conflict, and to lead it to search God’s Word.

So we are not pioneers exploring a new field. The writing of these articles can so impress those alone who are ignorant of the historical treasures of the Church. We propose simply to cause the light, which for so many ages shed its clear and comforting rays upon the Church, to reenter the windows, and thus by deeper knowledge to increase its inward strength.

We begin with the general distinction: That in every work effected by Father, Son, and Holy Ghost in common, the power to bring forth proceeds from the Father: the power to arrange from the Son; the power to perfect from the Holy Spirit.

In 1 Cor. viii. 6, St. Paul teaches that: “There is but one God the Father, of whom are all things, and one Lord Jesus Christ by whom are all things.” Here we have two prepositions: of whom, and by whom. But in Rom. xi. 36 he adds another: “For of Him and through Him and to Him are all things.”

The operation here spoken of is threefold: first, that by which all things are originated (of Him); second, that by which all things consist (through Him); third, that by which all things attain their final destiny (to Him). In connection with this clear, apostolic distinction the great teachers of the Church, after the fifth century, used to distinguish the operations of the Persons of the Trinity by saying that the operation whereby all things originated proceeds from the Father; that whereby they received consistency from the Son; and that whereby they were led to their destiny from the Holy Spirit.

These clear thinkers taught that this distinction was in line with that of the Persons. Thus the Father is father. He generates the Son. And the Holy Spirit proceeds from the Father and the Son. Hence the peculiar feature of the First Person is evidently that He is the Source and Fountain not only of the material creation, but of its very conception; of all that was and is and ever shall be. The peculiarity of the Second Person lies evidently not in generating, but in being generated. One is a son by being generated. Hence since all things proceed from the Father, nothing can proceed from the Son. The source of all things is not in the Son. Yet He adds a work of creation to that which is coming into existence; for the Holy Spirit proceeds also from Him; but not from Him alone, but from the Father and the Son, and that in such a way that the procession from the Son is due to His sameness of essence with the Father.

The Scripture agrees with this in teaching that the Father created all things by the Son, and that without Him was nothing made that was made. For the difference between “created by” and “created from,” we refer to Col. i. 17: “By Him all things consist,” i.e., by Him they hold together. Heb. i. 3 is even clearer, saying that the Son upholds all things by the Word of His power. This shows that as the essentials of the creature’s existence proceed from the Father as Fountain of all, so the forming, putting together, and arranging of its constituents are the proper work of the Son.

If we were reverently to compare God’s work to that of man we would say: A king proposes to build a palace. This requires not only, material, labor, and plans, but also putting together and arranging of the materials according to the plans. The king furnishes the materials and plans, the builder constructs the palace. Who, then, built it? Neither the king nor the builder alone; but the builder erects it out of the royal treasure.

This expresses the relation between Father and Son in this respect as far as human relations can illustrate the divine. In the construction of the universe two operations appear: first, the causative, which produces the materials, forces, and plans; second, the constructive, which with these forces forms and orders the materials according to the plan. And as the first proceeds from the Father, so does the second from the Son. The Father is the Royal Source of the necessary materials and powers; and the Son as the Builder constructs all things with them according to the counsel of God. If the Father and the Son existed independently, such cooperation would be impossible. But since the Father generates the Son, and by virtue of that generation the Son contains the entire Being of the Father, there can be no division of Being, and only the distinction of Persons remains. For the entire wisdom and power whereby the Son gives consistency to all is generated in Him by the Father; while the counsel which designed all is a determination by the Father of that divine wisdom which He as Father generates in the Son. For the Son is forever the effulgence of the Father’s glory, and the express image of His Person—Heb. i. 3.

This does not complete the work of creation. The creature is made not simply to exist or to adorn some niche in the universe like a statue. Rather was everything created with a purpose and a destiny; and our creation will be complete only when we have become what God designed. Hence Gen. ii. 3 says: “God rested from all His work which He had created to make it perfect” (Dutch translation). Thus to lead the creature to its destiny, to cause it to develop according to its nature, to make it perfect, is the proper work of the Holy Spirit.

Things incidental to this, such as the inspiration of Scripture, the preparation of the Body of Christ, the extraordinary ministration of grace to the Church, are only connecting-links, connecting the beginning with its own predetermined end; that in spite of sin’s disturbance the destiny of the universe to glorify God might be secured.

Condensing all into one statement, we might say: Sin having once entered, a factor which must be taken into account, the Holy Spirit’s work shines most gloriously in gathering and saving the elect; prior to which are His operations in the work of redemption and in the economy of the natural life. The same Spirit who in the beginning moved upon the waters has in the dispensation of grace given us the Holy Scripture, the Person of Christ, and the Christian Church; and it is He who, in connection with the original creation and by these means of grace, now regenerates and sanctifies us as the children of God.

Regarding these mighty and comprehensive operations, it is of first importance to keep in view the fact that in each He effects only that which is invisible and imperceptible. This marks all the Holy Spirit’s operations. Behind the visible world lies one invisible and spiritual, with outer courts and inner recesses; and underneath the latter are the unfathomable depths of the soul, which the Holy Spirit chooses as the scene of His labors—His temple wherein He sets up His altar.

Christ’s redemptive work also has visible and invisible parts. Reconciliation in His blood was visible. The sanctification of His Body and the adorning of His human nature with manifold graces were invisible. Whenever this hidden and inward work is specified the Scripture always connects it with the Holy Spirit. Gabriel says to Mary: “The Holy Ghost shall come upon thee.” (Luke i. 35) It is said of Christ: “That He had the Spirit without measure.”

We observe also in the host of heaven a life material, outward, tangible which in thought we never associate with the Holy Spirit. But, however weak and impalpable, the visible and tangible has an invisible background. How intangible are the forces of nature, how full of majesty the forces of magnetism! But life underlies all. Even through the apparently dead trunk sighs an imperceptible breath. From the unfathomable depths of all an inward, hidden principle works upward and outward. It shows in nature, much more in man and angel. And what is this quickening and animating principle but the Holy Spirit? “Thou sendest forth Thy Spirit, they are created; Thou takest away Thy breath, they die.” (Psalm civ. 29, 30)

This inward, invisible something is God’s direct touch. There is in us and in every creature a point where the living God touches us to uphold us; for nothing exists without being upheld by Almighty God from moment to moment. In the elect this point is their spiritual life; in the rational creature his rational consciousness; and in all creatures, whether rational or not, their life-principle. And as the Holy Spirit is the Person in the Holy Trinity whose office it is to effect this direct touch and fellowship with the creature in his inmost being, it is He who dwells in the hearts of the elect; who animates every rational being; who sustains the principle of life in very creature.

VI.

The Host of Heaven and of Earth.

“The Spirit of God hath made me.”—Job xxxiii. 4.

Understanding somewhat the characteristic note of the work of the Holy Spirit, let us see what this work was and is and shall be.

The Father brings forth, the Son disposes and arranges, the Holy Spirit perfects. There is one God and Father of whom are all things, and one Lord Jesus Christ through whom are all things; but what does the Scripture say of the special work the Holy Spirit did in creation and is still doing?

For the sake of order we examine first the account of the creation. God says in Gen. i. 2: “The earth was without form and void, and darkness was upon the face of the deep. And the Spirit of God moved upon the waters.” See also Job xxvi. 13: “By His Spirit He hath garnished the heavens; His hand hath formed the crooked serpent [the constellation of the Dragon, or, according to others, the Milky Way].” And also Job xxxiii. 4: “The Spirit of God hath made me; and the breath of the Almighty hath given me life.” And again Psalm xxxiii. 6: “By the Word of the Lord were the heavens made, and all the host of them by the breath of His mouth.” So also Psalm civ. 30: “Thou sendest forth Thy Spirit, they are created, and Thou renewest the face of the earth:” And with different import, in Isa. xl. 13: “Who hath directed the Spirit of the Lord [in creation], or being His counselor hath taught Him?”

These statements show that the Holy Spirit did a work of His own in creation.

They show, too, that His activities are closely connected with those of the Father and the Son. Psalm xxxiii. 6 presents them as almost identical. The first clause reads: “By the Word of the Lord were the heavens made”; the second: “And all the host of them by the breath [Spirit] of His mouth.” It is well known that in Hebrew poetry parallel clauses express the same thought in different ways; so that from this passage it appears that the work of the Word and that of the Spirit are the same, the latter adding only that which is peculiarly His own.

It should be noticed that hardly any of these passages mention the Holy Spirit by His own name. It is not the Holy Spirit, but the “Spirit of His mouth,” “His Spirit,” “the Spirit of the Lord.” On account of this, many hold that these passages do not refer to the Holy Spirit as the Third Person in the Holy Trinity, but speak of God as One, without personal distinction; and that the representation of God as creating anything by His hand, fingers, word, breath, or Spirit is merely a human way of speaking, signifying only that God was thus engaged.

The Church has always opposed this interpretation, and rightly so, on the ground that even the Old Testament, not merely in a few places but throughout its entire economy, bears undoubted testimony to the three divine Persons, coequal yet of one essence. It is true that this too has been denied, but by a wrong interpretation. And to the reply, “But our interpretation is as good as yours,” we answer that Jesus and the apostles are our authorities; the Church received its confession from their lips.

Secondly, we deny that “His Spirit” does not refer to the Holy Ghost, for the reason that in the New Testament similar expressions occur that undoubtedly do refer to Him, e.g., "God hath sent forth the Spirit of His Son” (Gal. iv. 6); “Whom the Lord shall consume by the Spirit of His mouth” (2 Thess. ii. 8); etc.

Thirdly, judging from the following passages,—“By the Word of the Lord were the heavens made” (Psalm xxxiii. 6); “And God said, Let there be light” (Gen. i. 3); and “All things were made by Him, and without Him was not anything made that was made” (John i. 3),—there can be no doubt that Psalm xxxiii. 6; refers to the Second Person in the Godhead. Hence also the second clause of the same verse, “And all their host by the Spirit of His mouth,” must refer to the Third Person.

Finally, to speak of a Spirit of God that is not the Holy Spirit is to transfer to the Holy Scripture a purely Western and human idea. We as men often speak of a wrong spirit which controls a nation, an army, or a school, meaning a certain tendency, inclination, or persuasion—a spirit that proceeds from a man distinct from his person and being. But this may not and can not apply to God. Speaking of Christ in His humiliation, one may rightly say, "To have the mind of Christ,” or “to have the spirit of Jesus,” which indicates His disposition. But to distinguish the divine Being from a spirit of that Being is to conceive of the Godhead in a human way. The divine consciousness differs wholly from the human. While in us there is a difference between our persons and our consciousness, with reference to God such distinctions disappear, and the distinction of Father, Son, and Holy Spirit takes their place.

Even in those passages where “the breath of His mouth” is added to explain “His Spirit,” the same interpretation must be maintained. For all languages show that our breathing, even as the “breathing of the elements” in the wind which blows before God’s face, corresponds to the being of spirit. Nearly all express the ideas of spirit, breath, and wind by cognate terms. Blowing or breathing is in all the Scripture the symbol of spirit-communication. Jesus breathed on them and said: “Receive ye the Holy Ghost” (John xx. 22). Thus the breath of His mouth must signify the Holy Spirit.

The ancient interpretation of the Scripture should not be hastily abandoned. Accept the dictum of modern theology that the distinction of the three divine Persons is not found in the Old Testament, and allusions to the work of the Holy Spirit in Genesis, Job, Psalms, or Isaiah are out of the question. Consequently nothing is more natural for the supporters of this modern theology than to deny the Holy Spirit altogether in the passages referred to.

But if from inward conviction we still confess that the distinction of Father, Son, and Holy Spirit is clearly seen in the Old Testament, then let us examine these passages concerning the Spirit of the Lord with discrimination, and gratefully maintain the traditional interpretation, which finds at least in many of these statements references to the work of the Holy Spirit.

These passages show that His peculiar work in creation was: 1st, hovering over chaos; 2d, creation of the host of heaven and of earth; 3d, ordering the heavens; 4th, animating the brute creation, and calling man into existence; and last, the operation whereby every creature is made to exist according to God’s counsel concerning it.

Hence the material forces of the universe do not proceed from the Holy Spirit, nor did He deposit in matter the dormant seeds and germs of life. His special task begins only after the creation of matter with the germs of life in it.

VII.

The Creaturely Man.

“The Spirit of God hath made me, and the breath of the Almighty hath given me life.”— Job xxxiii. 4.

The Eternal and Ever-blessed God comes into vital touch with the creature by an act proceeding not from the Father nor from the Son, but from the Holy Spirit.

Translated by sovereign grace from death unto life, God’s children are conscious of this divine fellowship; they know that it consists not in inward agreement of disposition or inclination, but in the mysterious touch of God upon their spiritual being. But they also know that neither the Father nor the Son, but the Holy Spirit, has made their hearts His temple. It is true Christ comes to us through the Holy Spirit, and through the Son we have fellowship with the Father, according to His word, “I and the Father will come unto you, and make Our abode with you”; yet every intelligent Bible student knows that it is more especially the Holy Spirit who enters into his person and touches his innermost being.

That the Son incarnate came into closer contact with us proves nothing to the contrary. Christ never entered into a human person. He took upon Himself our human nature, with which He united Himself much more closely than the Holy Spirit does; but He did not touch the inward man and his hidden personality. On the contrary, He said that it was expedient for the disciples that He should go away; “for if I go not away, the Comforter will not come unto you; but if I depart I will send Him unto you.” (John xvi. 7) Moreover, the Incarnation was not accomplished without the Holy Spirit, who overshadowed Mary; and the blessings that Christ imparted to all around Him were largely owing to the gift of the Holy Spirit, which was given Him without measure.

Hence the principal thought remains intact: When God comes into direct contact with the creature it is the work of the Holy Spirit to effect such contact. In the visible world this action consists in the kindling and fanning of the spark of life; hence it is quite natural and in full harmony with the general tenor of the teaching of Scripture that the Spirit of God moves upon the face of the waters, that He brings forth the host of heaven and earth, ordered, animated, and resplendent.

Besides this visible creation there is also an invisible, which, so far as our world is concerned, concentrates itself in the heart of man; hence, in the second place, we must see how far the work of the Holy Spirit may be traced in man’s creation.

Of the animal world we do not speak. Not as tho the Holy Spirit had nothing to do with their creation. From Psalm civ. 30 we have proven the contrary . Moreover, no one can deny the admirable traits of cunning, love, fidelity, and thankfulness in many of the animals. Not that we would be foolish on that ground to call the dog half human; for these higher animal properties are evidently but instinctive preformations, sketches of the Holy Spirit, carried to their proper destiny in man alone. And yet, however striking these traits may be, it is not a person that meets us in the animal. The animal proceeds from the world of matter, and returns to it; in man alone appears that which is new, invisible, and spiritual, justifying us in looking for a special work of the Holy Spirit in his creation.

Of himself, i.e., of a man, Job declares: “The Spirit of God hath made me, and the breath of the Almighty hath given me life.” (Job xxxiii. 4) The Spirit of God hath made me. That which I am as a human personality is the work of the Holy Spirit. To Him I owe the human and personal that constitute me the being that I am. He adds: “The breath of the Almighty hath given me life”; which evidently echoes the words: “The Lord God breathed into His nostrils the breath of life.” (Gen. ii. 7)

Like Job, we ought to feel and to acknowledge that in Adam you and I are created; when God created Adam He created us; in Adam’s nature He called forth the nature wherein we now live. Gen. i. and ii. is not the record of aliens, but of ourselves—concerning the flesh and blood which we carry with us, the human nature in which we sit down to read the Word of God.

He that reads his Bible without this personal application reads amiss. It leaves him cold and indifferent. It may charm him in the days of his childhood, when one is fond of tales and stories, but has no hold of him in the days of conflict, when he meets the stern facts and realities of life. But if we accustom ourselves to see in this record the history of our own flesh and blood, of our own human nature and life, and acknowledge that by human generation we spring from Adam, and therefore were in Adam when he was created—then we shall also know that when God formed Adam out of the dust He also formed us; that we also were in Paradise; that Adam’s fall was also ours. In a word, the first page of Genesis relates the history not of an alien, but of our own real selves. The breath of the Almighty gave us life, when the Lord formed man of the dust, and breathed into his nostrils and made him a living soul. The root of our life lies in our parents; but through and beyond them the tender fiber of that root goes back through the long line of generations, and received its earliest beginning when Adam first breathed God’s pure air in Paradise.

And yet, tho in Paradise we received the first inception of our being, there is also a second beginning of our life, viz., when from the race, by conception and birth, each of us was called into being individually. And of this also Job testifies: “The Spirit of the Lord hath given me life.” (Job xxxiii. 4)

And again, in the life of sinful man there comes a third beginning, when it pleases God to convert the wicked; and of this also the soul testifies within us: “The Spirit of the Lord hath given me life.”

Leaving this new birth out of the question, the testimony of Job shows us that he was conscious of the fact that he owed his existence as a man, as a person, as an ego, hence his creation in Adam as well as his personal being, to God.

And what does the Scripture teach us concerning the creation of man? This: that the dust of the ground out of which Adam was formed was so wrought upon that it became a living soul, which indicates the human being. The result was not merely a moving, creeping, eating, drinking, and sleeping creature, but a living soul that came into existence at the moment when the breath of life was breathed into the dust. It was not first the dust, and then human life within the dust, and after that the soul with all its higher faculties in that human life; nay, as soon as life went forth into Adam, he was a man, and all his precious gifts were natural endowments.

Sinful man being born from above receives gifts that are above nature. For this reason the Holy Spirit merely dwells in the quickened sinner. But in heaven this will not be so; for in death the human nature is so completely changed that the impulse to sin disappears entirely; wherefore in heaven the Holy Spirit will work in the human nature itself for ever and ever. In the present state of humiliation the nature of the regenerate is still the Adam-nature. The great mystery of the work of the Holy Spirit in him is this: that in and by that broken and corrupt nature, He works the holy works of God. It is as light shining through our window-panes, but in no wise identical with the glass.

In Paradise, however, man’s nature was whole, intact; everything about him was holy. We must avoid the dangerous error that the newly created man had an inferior degree of holiness. God made man upright, with nothing crooked in or about him. All his inclinations and powers with all their workings were pure and holy. God delighted in Adam, saw that he was good; surely nothing more can be desired. In this respect Adam differed from the child of God by grace in not having eternal life; he was to attain this as the reward for holy works. On the other hand, Abraham, the father of the faithful, begins with eternal life, from which holy works were to proceed.

Hence a perfect contrast. Adam must attain eternal life by works. Abraham has eternal life through which he obtains holy works. Hence for Adam there can be no indwelling of the Holy Spirit. There was no antagonism between him and the Spirit. So the Spirit could pervade him, not merely dwellin him. The nature of sinful man repels the Holy Spirit, but Adam’s nature attracted Him, freely received Him, and let Him inspire his being.

Our faculties and inclinations are impaired, our powers are enervated, the passions of our hearts corrupt; hence the Holy Spirit must come to us from without. But since Adam’s faculties were all intact, and the whole expression of his inward life undisturbed, therefore could the Holy Spirit work through the common powers and operations of his nature. To Adam spiritual things were not a supernatural, but a natural good—except eternal life, which he must earn by fulfilling the law. Scripture expresses this unity between Adam’s natural life and spiritual powers by identifying the two expressions—“To breathe into the breath of life,” and “to become a living soul.” (Gen. ii. 7)

Other passages show that this divine “inbreathing” indicates especially the Spirit’s work. Jesus breathed upon His disciples and said: “Receive ye the Holy Ghost.” (John xx. 22) He compares the Holy Spirit to the wind. In both the Biblical languages, Hebrew and Greek, the word spirit means wind, breathing or blowing. And as the Church confesses that the Son is eternally generated by the Father, so it confesses that the Holy Spirit proceedeth from the Father and the Son as by breathing. Hence we conclude that the passage, “And breathed into his nostrils the breath of life” (Gen. ii. 7)—in connection with, “The Spirit of God moved on the face of the waters,” (Gen. i. 2) and the word of Job, “The Spirit of God hath given me life” (Job xxxiii. 4)—points to a special work of the Holy Spirit.

Before God breathed the breath of life in the lifeless dust, there was a conference in the economy of the divine Being: “Let Us make man in Our image, after Our likeness.” (Gen. i. 26) This shows—

First, that each divine Person had a distinct work in the creation of man—“Let Us make man.” Before this the singular is used of God—“He spake,” “He saw”; but now the plural is used, “Let Us make man,” which implies that, here specially and more clearly than in any preceding passage, the activities of the Persons are to be distinguished.

Secondly, that man was not created empty, afterward to be endowed with higher spiritual faculties and powers, but that the very act of creation made him after God’s image, without any subsequent addition to his being. For we read: “Let Us create man in Our image and after Our likeness.” This assures us that by immediate creation man received the impress of the divine image; that in the creation the divine Persons each performed a distinct work; and, lastly, that man’s creation with reference to his higher destiny was effected by a going forth of the breath of God.

This is the basis of our statement that the Spirit’s creative work was making all man’s powers and gifts instruments for His own use, connecting them vitally and immediately with the powers of God. This agrees with Biblical teachings regarding the Holy Spirit’s regenerating work, which also, tho differently, brings the power and holiness of God in immediate contact with human powers.

We deny, therefore, the frequent assertion of ethical theologians, that the Holy Spirit created the personality of man, since this opposes the entire economy of Scripture. For what is our personality but the realization of God’s plan concerning us? Such as God from eternity has thought each of us, as distinct from other men, with our own stamp, life-history, calling, and destiny—as such each must develop and show himself to become a person. Thus alone each obtains character; anything else so called is pride and arbitrariness.

If our personality result directly from God’s plan, then it and what we have in common with all other creatures can not be from the Holy Spirit, but from the Father; like all other things, it receives its disposition from the Son; and the Holy Spirit acts upon it as upon every other creature, by kindling the spark, imparting the glow of life.

VIII.

Gifts and Talents.

“And the Spirit of the Lord came upon him.”—Judges iii. 10.

We now consider the Holy Spirit’s work in bestowing gifts, talents, and abilities upon artisans and professional men. Scripture declares that the special animation and qualification of persons for work assigned to them by God proceed from the Holy Spirit.

The construction of the tabernacle required capable workmen, skilful carpenters, goldsmiths, and silversmiths, and masters in the arts of weaving and embroidering. Who will furnish Moses with them? The Holy Spirit. For we read in Exod. xxxi. 2, 3: “I have called by name Bezaleel, the son of Uri . . . . and I have filled him with the Spirit of God, in wisdom, and in understanding, and in knowledge, and in all manner of workmanship, to devise cunning works, to work in gold, and in silver, and in brass, and in cutting of stones, to set them, and in carving of timber, to work in all manner of workmanship.” Verse 6 shows that this activity of the Holy Spirit included others: “In the hearts of all that are wise-hearted I have put wisdom, that they may make all that I have commanded them.” And to give clearest light on this subject, Scripture says also: “Then hath he filled with wisdom of heart, to work all manner of work of the engraver and of the cunning workman, and of the embroiderer in blue and in purple and in scarlet and in fine linen of the weaver, even of them that do any work and of these that devise cunning work.” (Exod. xxxv. 35)

The Spirit’s working shows not only in ordinary skilled labor, but also in the higher spheres of human knowledge and mental activity; for military genius, legal acumen, statesmanship, and power to inspire the masses with enthusiasm are equally ascribed to it. This is generally expressed in the words, “And the Spirit of the Lord came upon” such a hero, judge, statesman, or tribune of the people, especially in the days of the judges, when it is said of Joshua, Othniel, Barak, Gideon, Samson, Samuel, and others that the Spirit of the Lord came upon them. Also of Zerubbabel rebuilding the temple, it is said: “Not by might nor by power, but by My Spirit, saith the Lord.” (Zech. iv. 6) Even of the heathen king, Cyrus, we read that Jehovah had called him to His work and anointed him with the Spirit of the Lord—Isa. xlv.

This last instance introduces another aspect of the case, viz., the operation of the Holy Spirit in qualifying men for official functions. For altho this operation upon and through the office receives its fullest significance only in the dispensation of grace, yet the case of Cyrus shows that the Holy Spirit has originally a work to perform in this respect which is not only a result of grace, but belongs essentially to the nature of the work, even tho it is obvious only in the history of God’s special dealings with His own people.

It is especially noticeable in the struggle between Saul and David. There is no reason to consider Saul one of God’s elect. After his anointing the Holy Spirit comes upon him, abides with him, and works upon him as long as he remains the Lord’s chosen king over His people. But as soon as by wilful disobedience he forfeits that favor, the Holy Spirit departs from him and an evil spirit from the Lord troubles him. Evidently this work of the Holy Spirit has nothing to do with regeneration. For a time it may operate upon a man and then forever depart from him; while the Spirit’s saving operation, even tho suspended for a time, can never be wholly lost. David’s touching prayer, “Take not Thy Holy Spirit from me,” (Psalm li. 11) must therefore refer to gifts qualifying him for the kingly office. David had the terrible example of Saul before him. He had seen what becomes of a man whom the Holy Spirit leaves to himself; and his heart trembled at the possibility of an evil spirit coming upon him, and an end as sad as Saul’s. Like Judas, Saul dies a suicide.

From the whole Scripture teaching we therefore conclude that the Holy Spirit has a work in connection with mechanical arts and official functions—in every special talent whereby some men excel in such art or office. This teaching is not simply that such gifts and talents are not of man but from God like all other blessings, but that they are not the work of the Father, nor of the Son, but of the Holy Spirit.

The distinction discovered in creation may be observed here: gifts and talents come from the Father; are disposed for each personality by the Son; and kindled in each by the Holy Spirit as by a spark from above.

Let us distinguish art itself, personal talent to practise it, and the vocation thereto.

Art is not man’s invention, but God’s creation. In all nations and ages men have pursued the arts of weaving, embroidering, skilful dressmaking, casting and chasing noble metals, cutting and polishing diamonds, molding iron and brass; and in all these countries and ages, without knowing of each other’s efforts, have applied the same arts to all these materials. Of course there is a difference. Oriental work bears a stamp quite different from that of the West. Even French and German work differ. But under the differences, the endeavor, the art applied, the material, the ideal pursued are the same. So, too, art did not attain perfection all at once; among the nations forms at first crude and awkward gradually developed into forms chaste, refined, and beautiful. Successive generations improved upon previous achievements, until among the various nations comparative perfection of art and skill was attained. Hence art is not the result of man’s thought and purpose; but God has placed in various materials certain possibilities of workmanship, and by applying this workmanship man must make out of each what there is in it, and not whatever he chooses.

Two things must cooperate to effect this. In the creation of gold, silver, wood, iron, God must have placed in them certain possibilities, and have created inventive power in man’s mind, perseverance in his will, strength in his muscle, accurate vision in his eye, delicacy of touch and action in his fingers, thus qualifying him to evolve what is latent in the materials. Since this labor has the same nature among all nations, the perpetual progress of the same great work being accomplished according to the same majestic plan, through successive generations, all artistic skill and executive ability must be wrought in man by a higher power and according to a higher command. Viewing the treasures of an industrial exposition in the light of the revealed Word, we shall see in their gradual development and genetic unity the downfall of human pride, and exclaim: “What is all this art and skill but the manifestation of the possibilities which God has placed in these materials, and of the powers of mind and eye and finger which He has given the children of men!”

Consider, now, personal talent as utterly distinct from art.

First, The work of the Holy Spirit is not confined to the elect, and does not begin with their regeneration; but it touches every creature, animate and inanimate, and begins its operations in the elect at the very moment of their origin.

Second, The proper work of the Holy Spirit in every creature consists in the quickening and sustaining of life with reference to his being and talents, and, in its highest sense, with reference to eternal life, which is his salvation.

Thus we have regained the true standpoint requisite for considering the work of the Holy Spirit in the re-creation. For thus it appears:

First, that this work of re-creation is not performed in fallen man independently of his original creation; but that the Holy Spirit, who in regeneration kindles the spark of eternal life, has already kindled and sustained the spark of natural life. And, again, that the Holy Spirit, who imparts unto man born from above gifts necessary to sanctification and to his calling in the new sphere of life, has in the first creation endowed him with natural gifts and talents.

From this follows that fruitful confession of the unity of man’s life before and after the new birth which nips every form of Methodism For the sense in which the author takes Methodism, see section 5 in the Preface. in its very root, and which characterizes the doctrine of the Reformed churches.

Second, it is evident that the work of the Holy Spirit bears the same character in creation and re-creation. If we admit that He quickens life in that which is created by the Father and by the Son, what does He do in the re-creation but once more quicken life in him that is called of the Father and redeemed by the Son? Again, if the Spirit’s work is God’s touching the creature’s being by Him, what is re-creation but the Spirit entering man’s heart, making it His temple, comforting, animating, and sanctifying it?

Thus following the Sacred Scripture and the superior theologians, we reach a confession that maintains the unity of the Spirit’s work, and makes it unite organically the natural and the spiritual life, the realm of nature and that of grace.

Of course His work in the latter surpasses that in the former:

First, since it is His work to touch the inward being of the creature, the more tender and natural the contact the more glorious the work. Hence it appears more beautiful in man than in the animal; and more lustrous in the spiritual man than in the natural, since the contact with the former is more intimate, the fellowship sweeter, the union complete.

Secondly, since creation lies so far behind us and re-creation touches us personally and daily, the Word of God directs more attention to the latter, claiming for it more prominence in our confession. But, however different the measures of operation and of energy, the Holy Spirit remains in creation and re-creation the one omnipotent Worker of all life and quickening, and is therefore worthy of all praise and adoration.

X.

Organic and Individual.

"Where is He that put His Holy Spirit among them?" --Isa. lxiii. 11.

The subsequent activity of the Holy Spirit lies in the realm of grace.

In nature the Spirit of God appears as creating, in grace as re-creating. We call it re-creation, because God’s grace creates not something inherently new, but a new life in an old and degraded nature.

But this must not be understood as tho grace restored only what sin had destroyed. For then the child of God, born anew and sanctified, must be as Adam was in Paradise before the fall. Many understand it so, and present it as follows: In Paradise Adam became diseased; the poison of eternal corruption entered his soul and penetrated his whole being. Now comes the Holy Spirit as the physician, carrying the remedy of grace to heal him. He pours the balm into his wounds, He heals his bruises and renews his youth; and thus man, born again, healed, and renewed, is, according to their view, precisely what the first man was in the state of rectitude. Once more the provisions of the covenant of works are laid upon him. By his good works he is again to inherit eternal life. Again he may fall like Adam and become a prey of eternal death.

But this whole view is wrong. Grace does not place the ungodly in a state of rectitude, but justifies him—two very different things. He that stands in a state of rectitude has certainly an original righteousness, but this he may lose; he may be tried and fail as Adam failed. He must vindicate his righteousness. Its inward consistency must discover itself. He who is righteous to-day may be unrighteous to-morrow.

But when God justifies a sinner He puts Him in a totally different state. The righteousness of Christ becomes his. And what is this righteousness? Was Jesus in a state of rectitude only? In no wise. His righteousness was tested, tried, and sifted; it was even tested by the consuming fire of God’s wrath. And this righteousness converted from "original rectitude" into "righteousness vindicated" was imputed to the ungodly.

Therefore the ungodly, when justified by grace, has nothing to do with Adam’s state before the fall, but occupies the position of Jesus after the resurrection. He possesses a good that can not be lost. He works no more for wages, but the inheritance is his own. His works, zeal, love, and praise flow not from his own poverty, but from the overflowing fulness of the life that was obtained for him. As it is often expressed: For Adam in Paradise there was first work and then the Sabbath of rest; but for the ungodly justified by grace the Sabbath rest comes first, and then the labor which flows from the energies of that Sabbath. In the beginning the week closed with the Sabbath; for us the day of the resurrection of Christ opens the week which feeds upon the powers of that resurrection.

Hence the great and glorious work of re-creation has two parts:

First, the removing of corruption, the healing of the breach, the death to sin, the atonement for guilt.

Second, the reversing of the first order, the changing of the entire state, the bringing in and establishing of a new order.

The last is of greatest importance. For many teach differently. Altho they grant that a new-born child of God is not precisely what Adam was before the fall, yet they see the difference only in the reception of a higher nature. The state is the same, differing only in degree. This is the current theory. This nature of higher degree is called the "divine-human," which Christ bears in His Person, which being consolidated by His Passion and Resurrection is now imparted to the new-born soul, raising the lower and degraded nature to this higher life.

This theory directly conflicts with the Scripture, which never speaks of conditions similar yet differing in degree and power, but of a condition sometimes far inferior in power and degree to that of Adam, but transferred into an entirely different order.

For this reason the Scripture and the Confession of our fathers emphasize the doctrine of the Covenants; for the difference between the Covenant of Works and of Grace shows the difference between the two orders of spiritual things. They who teach that the new birth merely imparts a higher nature remain under the Covenant of Works. Theirs is the wearisome toil of rolling the Sisyphus stone up the mountain, even tho it be with the greater energy of the higher life. The Scriptural doctrine of Grace ends this impossible Sisyphus task; it transfers the Covenant of Works from our shoulders to Christ’s, and opens unto us a new order in the Covenant of Grace in which there can be no more uncertainty or fear, loss or forfeit of the benefits of Christ, but of which Wisdom doth cry, "and Understanding putteth forth her voice, standing in the top of high places," (Prov. viii. 1, 2) saying that all things are now ready.

The work of re-creation has this peculiarity, that it places the elect at once at the end of the road. They are not like the traveler still half way from home, but like one who has finished his journey; the long, dreary, and dangerous road is entirely behind him. Of course, he did not run that road; he could never have reached the goal. His Mediator and Daysman traveled it for him—and in his stead. And by mystic union with his Savior it is as tho he had traveled the whole distance; not as we reckon, but as God reckons.

This will show why the work of the Holy Spirit appears more powerful in re-creation than in creation. For what is the road spoken of, but that which leads from the center of our degenerate hearts to the center of the loving heart of God? All godliness aims to bring man into communion with God; hence to make him travel the road between him and God. Man is the only being on earth in whom contact with God means conscious fellowship. Since this fellowship is broken by the alienation of sin, at the end of the road the contact and fellowship must be perfect, so far as concerns man’s state and principle. If fellowship is the terminus and God’s grace puts His child there at once, at least so far as his state is concerned, there is an obvious difference between him and the unregenerate; for the latter is infinitely distant from God, while the former has sweetest fellowship with Him. Since it is the inward operation of the Holy Spirit that accomplishes this, His hand must appear more powerful and glorious in re-creation than in creation.

If we could see His work in re-creation all at once as an accomplished fact, we should understand it more thoroughly and escape the difficulties that we now meet in comparing the Old Testament with the New regarding it.

Re-creation brings to us that which is eternal, finished, perfected, completed; far above the succession of moments, the course of years, and the development of circumstances. Here lies the difficulty. This eternal work must be brought to a temporal world, to a race which is in process of development; hence that work must make history, increasing like a plant, growing, blossoming, and bearing fruit. And this history must include a time of preparation, revelation, and lastly of filling the earth with the streams of grace, salvation, and blessing.

If it did not relate to man but to irrational beings, there would be no difficulty; but when it began its course man was already in the world, and as the ages passed the stream of humanity broadened. Hence the important question: Whether the generations that lived during the long period of preparation before Christ, in whom the work of re-creation was finally revealed, were partakers of its blessings?

The Scripture answers affirmatively. In the ages before Christ God’s elect shared the blessings of the work of re-creation. Abel and Enoch, Noah and Abraham, Moses and David, Isaiah and Daniel were saved by the same faith as Peter, Paul, Luther, and Calvin. The Covenant of Grace, altho made with Abraham and for a time connected with the national life of Israel, existed already in Paradise. The theologians of the Reformed churches have clearly unfolded the truth, that God’s elect of both Dispensations entered the same gate of righteousness and walked the same way of salvation which they still walk to the marriage-supper of the Lamb.

But how could Abraham, living so many years before Christ, in whom alone grace and truth have been revealed, have his faith accounted unto him for righteousness, so that he saw the day of Jesus and was glad?

This difficulty has confused many minds regarding the Old and New Dispensations, and causes many vainly to ask: How could there be any saving operation of the Holy Spirit in the Old Testament if He were poured out only on Pentecost? The answer is found in the almost unsearchable work of the Holy Spirit, whereby, on the one hand, He brought into the history of our race that eternal salvation already finished and complete which must run through the periods of preparation, revelation, and fruit-bearing; and, whereby, on the other hand, during the preparatory period, this very preparation was made the means, through wondrous grace, of saving souls even before the Incarnation of the Word.

XI.

The Church Before and After Christ.

"All these having obtained a good report through faith, received not the promise."Heb. xi. 39.

Clearness requires to distinguish two operations of the Holy Spirit in the work of re-creation before the Advent, viz., (1) preparing redemption for the whole Church, and (2) regenerating and sanctifying the saints then living.

If there had been no elect before Christ, so that He had no church until Pentecost; and if, like Balaam and Saul, the bearers of the Old Testament revelation had been without personal interest in Messiah, then it is self-evident that, before the Advent, the Holy Spirit could have had but one work of re-creation, viz., the preparation of the coming salvation. But since God had a church from the beginning of the world, and nearly all the bearers of the revelation were partakers of His salvation, the Spirit’s re-creative work must consist of two parts: first, of the preparation of redemption for the whole Church; and, secondly, of the sanctification and consolation of the Old Testament saints.

However, these two operations are not independent, like two separate water-courses, but are like drops of rain falling in the same stream of revelation. They are not even like two streams of different colors mingling in the same riverbed; for neither did the one contain anything for the Church of the future which had not meaning also for the saints of the Old Covenant; nor did the latter receive any revelation or commandment without significance also for the Church of the New Covenant. The Holy Spirit so interwove and interlaced this twofold work that what was the preparing of redemption for us, was at the same time revelation and exercise of faith for the Old Testament saints; while, on the other hand, He used their personal life, conflict, suffering, and hope as the canvas upon which He embroidered the revelation of redemption for us.

XIII.

The Scripture a Necessity.

“For whatsoever things were written aforetime were written for our learning, that we through patience and comfort of the Scriptures might have hope.”—Rom. xv. 4.

That the Bible is the product of the Chief Artist, the Holy Spirit; that He gave it to the Church and that in the Church He uses it as His instrument, can not be over-emphasized.

Not as tho He had lived in the Church of all ages, and given us in Scripture the record of that life, its origin and history, so that the life was the real substance and the Scripture the accident; rather the Scripture was the end of all that preceded and the instrument of all that followed.

With the dawn of the Day of days the Sacred Volume will undoubtedly disappear. As the New Jerusalem will need no sun, moon, or temple, but the Lord God will be its light, so will there be no need of Scripture, for the revelation of God shall reach His elect directly through the unveiled Word. But so long as the Church is on earth, face-to-face communion withheld, and our hearts accessible only by the avenues of this imperfect existence, Scripture must remain the indispensable instrument by which the Triune God prepares men’s souls for higher glory.

The cause of this lies in our personality. We think, we are self-conscious, and the threefold world about and above and within us is reflected in our thoughts. The man of confused or unformed consciousness or one insane can not act as a man. True, there are depths in our hearts which the plummet of our thinking has not sounded; but the influence that is to affect us deeply, clearly, with outlasting effect upon our personality, must be wrought through our self-consciousness.

The history of sin proves it. How did sin enter the world? Did Satan infuse its poison into man’s soul while he slept? By no means. While Eve was fully herself, Satan began to discuss the matter with her. He wrought upon her consciousness with words and representations, and she, allowing this, drank the poison, fell, and dragged her husband with her. Had not God thus foretold it? Man’s fall was to be known neither by his recognized nor by his unrecognized emotions, but by the tree of knowledge of good and evil. The knowledge that caused his fall was not merely abstract, intellectual, but vital. Of course the operating cause was external, but it wrought upon his consciousness and bore the form of knowledge.

And as his fall, so also must be his restoration. Redemption must come from without, act upon our consciousness, and bear the form of knowledge. To affect and win us in our personality we must be touched in the very spot where sin first wounded us, viz., in our proud and haughty self-consciousness. And since our consciousness mirrors itself in a world of thought—thoughts expressed in words so intimately connected as to form, as it were, but one word—therefore it was of the highest necessity that a new, divine world of thought should speak to our consciousness in a Word, i.e., in a Scripture. And this is the work of Holy Scripture.

Our thought-world is full of falsehood, and so is the outer world. But one thought-world is absolutely true, and that is the world of God’s thoughts. Into this world we must be brought, and it into us with the life that belongs to it, as brightness to light. Therefore redemption depends upon faith. To believe is to acknowledge that the entire world of thought within and around us is false, and that only God’s world of thought is true and abiding, and as such to accept and confess it. So it is still the Tree of knowledge. But the fruit now taken and enjoyed grows upon the inward plant of self-emptying and self-denial, whereby we renounce our own entire world of thought, no longer judging between good and evil, but faithfully repeating what God teaches, as ever little children in His school.

But this would not avail us if God’s thoughts came in unintelligible words, which would have been the case if the Holy Spirit had used mere words. We know how hopeless it is to try to describe the felicities of heaven. Every effort has been so far a failure. That bliss passes our imagination. And the Scripture revelation concerning it is couched in earthly imagery—as a Paradise, a Jerusalem, or a wedding-feast—which, beautiful as it may be, leaves no clear impressions. We know heaven must be beautiful and entrancing, but a concrete conception of it is out of the question. Nor can we have clear ideas of the relation of the glorified Son of man to the Trinity, His sitting at the right hand of God, the life of the redeemed, and their condition when, passing from the chambers of death, they enter the palace of the great King.

Hence if the Holy Spirit had presented the world of divine thoughts concerning our salvation in writing directly from heaven, a clear conception of the subject would have been impossible. Our conception would have been vague and figurative as that concerning heaven. Hence these thoughts were not directly written, but translated into the life of this world, which gave them form and shape; and thus they came down to us in human language, in the pages of a book. Without this there could not even be a language to embody such sacred and glorious realities. St. Paul had visions, i.e., he was freed from the limitations of consciousness and enabled to contemplate heavenly things; but having returned to his limitations, could not speak of what he had seen, as he said: “They are unspeakable.”

And that the equally unspeakable things of salvation may be rendered expressible in human words, it pleased God to bring to this world the life which originated them; to accustom our human consciousness to them, from it to draw words for them, and thus to exhibit them to every man.

God’s thoughts are inseparable from His life; hence His life must enter the world before His thoughts, at least at first; afterward the thoughts became the vehicle of the life.

This appears in the creation of Adam. The first man is created; after him men are born. At first human life appeared at once in full stature; from that life once introduced, new life will be born. First, new life originated by forming Eve from Adam’s rib; then, by the union of man and woman. So also here. At first God introduced spiritual life into the world, finished, perfect, by a miracle; afterward differently, since the thought introduced as life into this world is pictured to our view. Henceforth the Holy Spirit will use the product of this life to awaken new life.

So redemption can not begin with the gift of Holy Scripture to the Church of the Old Covenant. Such Scripture could not be produced until its content is wrought out in life, and redemption is objectively accomplished.

XIV.

The Revelation to Which the Scripture of the Old Testament Owes Its Existence.

“O Lord, . . . Thou art stronger than I, and hast prevailed.”—Jer. xx. 7.

The understanding of the Holy Spirit’s work in Scripture requires us to distinguish the preparation, and the formation that was the outcome of the preparation. We will discuss these two separately.

The Holy Spirit prepared for Scripture by the operations which from Paradise to Patmos supernaturally apprehended the sinful life of this world, and thus raised up believing men who formed the developing Church.

This will seem very foolish if we consider the Scripture a mere paper-book, a lifeless object, but not if we hear God speaking therein directly to the soul. Severed from the divine life, the Scripture is unprofitable, a letter that killeth. But when we realize that it radiates God’s love and mercy in such form as to transform our life and address our consciousness, we see that the supernatural revelation of the life of God must precede the radiation. The revelation of God’s tender mercies must precede their scintillation in the human consciousness. First, the revelation of the mystery of Godliness; then, its radiation in the Sacred Scripture, and thence into the heart of God’s Church, is the natural and ordained way.

For this purpose the Holy Spirit first chose individuals, then a few families, and lastly a whole nation, to be the sphere of His activities; and in each stage He began His work with the Word, always following the Word of Salvation with the Facts of Salvation.

He began this work in Paradise. After the fall, death and condemnation reigned over the first pair, and in them entombed the race. Had the Spirit left them to themselves, with the germ of death ever developing in them, no star of hope would ever have arisen for the human race.

XV.

The Revelation of the Old Testament in Writing.

“Then I said, I will not speak any more in His Name. But His word was in my heart as a burning fire, shut up in my bones: and I was weary with forbearing, but I could not.”—Jer. xx. 9.

Altho the miracles performed for and in the midst of Israel created a glorious life-center in the midst of the heathen world, yet they did not constitute a Holy Scripture; for this can not be created except God speak to man, even to His people Israel. “God, who at sundry times and in divers manners spake in times past unto the fathers by the prophets, hath in these last days spoken unto us by His Son.” (Heb. i. 1)

This divine speaking is not limited to prophecy. God spoke also to others than prophets, e.g., to Eve, Cain, Hagar, etc. To receive a revelation or a vision does not make one a prophet, unless it be accompanied by the command to communicate the revelation to others. The word “nabi,” the Scriptural term for prophet, does not indicate a person who receives something of God, but one who brings something to the people. Hence it is a mistake to confine the divine revelation to the prophetic office. In fact, it extends to the whole race in general; prophecy is only one of its special features. As to the divine revelation in its widest scope, it is evident from the Scripture that God spoke to men from Adam to the last of the apostles. From Paradise to Patmos revelation runs like a golden thread through every part of Sacred History.

As a rule, the Scripture does not treat this divine speaking metaphorically. There are exceptions, e.g., “God spake to the fish” (Jonah ii. 10); “The heavens declare the glory of God, and day unto day uttereth speech” (Psalm xix. 2, 3). However, it can be proven, from a thousand passages against one to the contrary, that the ordinary speaking of the Lord may not be taken in other than the literal sense. This is evident from the call of God to Samuel, which the child mistook for that of Eli. It is evident also from the names, numbers, and localities that are mentioned in this divine speaking; especially from the dialogues between God and man, as in the history of Abraham in the conflict of his faith concerning the promised seed, and in his intercession for Sodom.

And therefore we can not agree with those who would persuade us that the Lord did not really speak; that if it reads so, it must not be so understood; and that a clearer insight shows that “a certain influence from God affected the inner life of the person addressed. In connection with the person’s peculiar character and the influences of his past and present this working gave special clearness to his consciousness, and wrought in him such a conviction that, without hesitation, he declared: ‘Since I will as God wills, I know that the Lord has thus spoken to me.’” This representation we reject as exceedingly pernicious and hurtful to the life of the Church. We call it false, since it dishonors the truth of God; and we refuse to tolerate a theology that starts from such premises. It annihilates the authority of the Scripture. Altho commended by the Ethical wing it is exceedingly un-ethical, inasmuch as it directly opposes the clearly expressed truth of the Word of God. Nay, this divine speaking, whose record the Scripture offers, must be understood as real speaking.

And what is speaking? Speaking presupposes a person who has a thought that he wishes to transfer directly to the consciousness of another, without the intervention of a third person or of writing or of gesture. Hence when God speaks to man three things are implied:

First, that God has a thought which He wills to communicate to man.

Second, that He executes His design in a direct way.

Third, that the person addressed now possesses the divine thought with this result, that he is conscious of the same idea which a moment ago existed only in God.

With every explanation doing full justice to these three points we will agree; every other we reject.

As to the question whether speech is possible without sound, we answer: “No, not among men.” Surely the Lord can speak and has spoken at times by means of air-vibrations; but He can speak to man without the use of either sound or ear. As men we have access to each other’s consciousness only by means of the organs of sense. We can not communicate with our neighbor except he hear or see or feel our touch. The unfortunate who is devoid of these senses can not receive the slightest information from without. But the Lord our God is not thus limited. He has access to man’s heart and consciousness from within. He can impart to our consciousness whatever He will in a direct way, without the use of eardrum, auditory nerve, and vibration of air. Tho a man be stone-deaf, God can make him hear, inwardly speaking to his soul.

However, to accomplish this God must condescend to our limitations. For the consciousness is subject to the mental conditions of the world in which it lives. A negro, e.g., can have no other consciousness than that developed by his environment and acquired by his language. Speaking to a foreigner unacquainted with our tongue, we must adapt ourselves to his limitations and address him in his own language. Hence in order to make Himself intelligible to man, God must clothe His thoughts in human language and thus convey them to the human consciousness.

To the person thus addressed it must seem therefore as tho he had been spoken to in the ordinary way. He received the impression that he heard words of human language conveying to him divine thoughts. Hence the divine speaking is always adapted to the capacities of the person addressed. Because in condescension the Lord adapts Himself to every man’s consciousness, His speaking assumes the form peculiar to every man’s condition. What a difference, for instance, between God’s word to Cain and that to Ezekiel! This explains how God could mention names, dates, and various other details; how He could make use of the dialect of a certain period; of derivation of words, as in the changing of names, as in the case of Abraham and Sarah.

This also shows that God’s speaking is not limited to godly and susceptible persons prepared to receive a revelation. Adam was wholly unprepared, hiding himself from the presence of God. And so were Cain and Balaam. Even Jeremiah said: “I will not speak any more in His Name. But His word was in my heart as a burning fire, shut up in my bones: and I was weary with forbearing, but I could not” (chap. xx. 9). Hence the divine omnipotence is unlimited. The Lord can impart the knowledge of His will to whomsoever He pleases. The question why He has not spoken for eighteen centuries must not be answered, “Because He has lost the power”; but, “Because it seemeth not good to Him.” Having once spoken and in the Scripture brought His word to our souls, He is silent now that we may honor the Scripture.

However, it should be noticed that in this divine speaking from Paradise to Patmos there is a certain order, unity, and regularity; wherefore we add:

First, the divine speaking was not confined to individuals, but, having a message for all the people, God spoke through His chosen prophets. That God can speak to a whole nation at once is proven by the events of Sinai. But it pleased Him not always to do this. On the contrary, He never spoke to them in that way afterward, but introduced prophetism instead. Hence the peculiar mission of prophetism is to receive the words of God and immediately to communicate them to the people. God speaks to Abraham what is for Abraham alone; but to Joel, Amos, etc., a message not for themselves, but for others to whom it must be conveyed. In connection with this we notice the fact that the prophet stands not alone, but in relation with a class of men among whom his mind was gradually prepared to speak to the people, and to receive the divine Oracle. For the peculiar feature of prophecy was the condition of ecstasy, which differed greatly from the way by which God spoke to Moses.

Secondly, these divine revelations are mutually related and, taken together, constitute a whole. There is first the foundation, then the superstructure, until finally the illustrious palace of the divine truth and knowledge is completed. Revelation as a whole shows therefore a glorious plan, into which are dovetailed the special revelations to individuals.

Thirdly, the speaking of the Lord, especially of the inward word, is peculiarly the work of the Holy Spirit, which, as we have found before, appears most strikingly when God comes into closest contact with the creature. And the consciousness is the most intimate part of man’s being. Wherefore, as often as the Lord our God enters human consciousness to communicate His thoughts, clothed in human thoughts and speech, the Scripture and the believer honor and adore therein the comforting operation of the Holy Spirit.

XVI.

Inspiration.

“And unto the angel of the church in Sardis write, These things saith He that hath the seven Spirits of God.”— Rev. iii. 1.

We do not speak here of the New Testament. Nothing has contributed more to falsify and undermine faith in the Scripture and the orthodox view concerning it than the unhistoric and unnatural practise of considering the Scripture of the Old and the New Testament at the same time.

The Old Testament appears first; then came the Word in the flesh; and only after that the Scripture of the New Testament. In the study of the work of the Holy Spirit the same order ought to be observed. Before we speak of His work in the Incarnation, the inspiration of the New Testament may not even be mentioned. And until the Incarnation, there existed no other Scripture than the Old Testament.

The question is now: How is the work of the Holy Spirit to be traced in the construction of that Scripture?

We have considered the question how it was prepared. By wonderful works God created a new life in this world; and, in order to make men believe in these works, He spoke to man either directly or indirectly, i.e., by the prophets. But this did not create a Sacred Scripture. If nothing more had been done there would never have been such a Scripture; for events take place and belong to the past; the word once spoken passes away with the emotion in the consciousness.

Human writing is the wonderful gift which God bestowed on man to perpetuate what otherwise would have been forgotten and utterly lost. Tradition falsifies the report. Among holy men this would not be so. But we are sinful men. By sin a lie can be told. Sin is also the cause of our lack of earnestness, and the root of all forgetfulness, carelessness, and thoughtlessness. These are the two factors, lying and carelessness, that rob tradition of its value. For this reason God gave our race the gift of writing. Whether on wax, on metal, on the face of the rock, on parchment, on papyrus, or on paper, is of no importance; but that God enabled man to find the art of committing to posterity a thought, a promise, an event, independent from his person, attaching it to something material, so that it could endure and be read by others even after his death—this is of greatest importance.

For us, men, reading and writing are means of fellowship. It begins with speaking, which is essential to fellowship. But mere speaking confines it to narrow limits, while reading and writing give it wider scope, extending it to persons far away and to generations yet unborn. Through writing past generations actually live together. Even now we can meet with Moses and David, Isaiah and John, Plato and Cicero; we can hear them speak and receive their mental utterances. Writing is therefore no contemptible thing as some, who are overspiritual and sneer at the written Word, consider it. On the contrary, it is great and glorious—one of the mighty factors whereby God keeps men and generations in living communication and exercise of love. Its discovery was a wonderful grace, God’s gift to man, more than doubling his treasures.

The gift has often been abused; yet even in its rightful use there is ascending glory. How much more glorious appears the art of writing when Dante, Shakespeare, and Schiller write their poetry, than when the pedagogue compiles his spelling-books or the notary public scribbles the lease of a house!

Since writing may be used or abused, may serve low or high purposes, the question arises: “What is its highest end?” And without the least hesitation we answer: “The writing of the Holy Scripture.” As human speech and language are of the Holy Spirit, so is writing also taught us of Him. But while man uses the art to record human thoughts, the Holy Spirit employs it to give fixed and lasting form to the thoughts of God. Hence there is a human employment of it and a divine. The highest and wholly unique is that in the Holy Scripture.

Actually there is no other book which sustains communication among men and generations as does the Sacred Scripture. To honor His own work the Holy Spirit has caused the universal distribution of this book alone, thereby putting men of all stations and classes into communication with the oldest generations of the race.

Second, it is not the conception of a human person, but of a human nature. Where a new being is conceived, a human person comes into existence. But when the Person of the Son, who was with the Father from eternity, partakes of our flesh and blood, He adopts our human nature in the unity of His Person, thus becoming a true man; but it is not the creation of a new person. The Scripture clearly shows this. In Christ appears but one ego, being in the same Person at once the Son of God and the Son of man.

Third, from this it follows not that a new flesh was created in Mary as the Mennonites used to teach, but that the fruit in Mary’s womb, from which Jesus was born, was taken from and nourished with her own blood—the very blood which through her parents she had received from fallen Adam.

Last, the Mediator born of Mary not only partook of our flesh and blood, such as it existed in Adam and as we have inherited it from Adam, but He was born a true man, thinking, willing, and feeling like other men, susceptible to all the human emotions and sensations that cause the countless thrills and throbs of human life.

And yet He was separate from sinners. Of this we speak in the next article.

Let this suffice for the fact of the conception, from which fact we derive the precious comfort: “That it covers in the sight of God my sin and guilt wherein I was conceived and brought forth” (Heidelberg Catechism, quest. 36).

XVIII.

Guiltless and Without Sin.

“For such an High Priest became us, who is holy, harmless, undefiled, separate from sinners, and made higher than the heavens.”—Heb. vii. 26.

Throughout the ages the Church has confessed that Christ took upon Himself real human nature from the virgin Mary, not as it was before the fall, but such as it had become, by and after the fall.

This is clearly stated in Heb. ii. 14, 17: “Forasmuch as the children are partakers of flesh and blood, He also Himself took part of the same . . . . Wherefore in all things it behooved Him to be made like unto His brethren, to make reconciliation for the sins of the people.” It was even such a partaking of our nature as would make Him feel Satan’s goad, for there follows: “In that He Himself hath suffered, being tempted, He is able to succor them that are tempted.” Upon the authority of the divine Word we can not doubt then that the Son of God became man in our fallen nature. It is our misery, by virtue of the inherited guilt of Adam, that we can not live and act but as partakers of the flesh and blood corrupted by the fall. And since we as children are partakers of flesh and blood, so is He also become partaker of the same. Hence it can not be too strongly emphasized that the Son of God, walking among men, bore the same nature in which we spend our lives; that His flesh had the same origin as our flesh; that the blood which ran through His veins is the same as our blood, and came to Him as well as to us from the same fountain in Adam. We must feel, and dare confess, that in Gethsemane our Savior agonized in our flesh and blood; that it was our flesh and blood that were nailed to the cross. The “blood of reconciliation” is taken from the very blood which thirsts after reconciliation.

With equal assurance, however, bowing to the authority of the Scripture, we confess that this intimate union of the Son of God with the fallen human nature does not imply the least participation of our sin and guilt. In the same epistle in which the apostle sets forth distinctly the fellowship of Jesus with the human flesh and blood, he bears equally clear testimony to the fact of His sinlessness, so that every misunderstanding may be obviated. As by virtue of our conception and birth we are unholy, guilty, and defiled, one with sinners, and therefore burdened with the condemnation of hell, so is the Mediator conceived and born holy, harmless, undefiled, separate from sinners, made higher than the heavens. And with equal emphasis the apostle declares that sin did not enter into His temptations, for, altho tempted in all things, like as we are, yet He was ever without sin.

Therefore the mystery of the Incarnation lies in the apparent contradiction of Christ’s union with our fallen nature, which on the one hand is so intimate as to make Him susceptible to its temptations, while on the other hand He is completely cut off from all fellowship with its sin. The confession which weakens or eliminates either of these factors must, when logically developed, degenerate into serious heresy. By saying, “The Mediator is conceived and born in our nature, as it was before the fall,” we sever the fellowship between Him and us; and by allowing that He had the least personal part of our guilt and sin, we sever His fellowship with the divine nature.

Does the Scripture not teach then that the Mediator was made sin and bore the curse for us, and “as a worm and no man” suffered deepest distress?

We answer: Yea, verily, without this we could have no redemption. But in all this He acted as our Substitute. His own personality was not in the least affected by it. His burdening Himself with our sins was a High-Priestly act, performed vicariously. He was made sin, but never a sinner. Sinner means one who is personally affected by sin; Christ’s person never was. He never had any fellowship with sin other than that of love and compassion, to bear it as our High Priest and Substitute. Yet, tho He was exceedingly sorrowful even unto death, tho He was sorely tempted so that He cried out, “Let this cup pass from Me,” in the center of His personal being He remained absolutely free from the least contact with sin.

A close examination of the way by which we become partakers of sin will shed more light on this subject.

Every individual sin is not of our own begetting only, but a participation in the common sin, the one mighty sin of the whole race against which the anger of God is kindled. Not only do we partake of this sin by an act of the will as we grow up; it was ours already in the cradle, in our mother’s womb—yea, even in our conception. “Conceived and born in sin” is the awful confession which the Church of God’s redeemed can never deny.

For this reason the Church has always laid such stress upon the doctrine of inherited guilt, as declared by St. Paul in Rom. v. Our inherited guilt does not spring from inherited sin; on the contrary, we are conceived and born in sin because we stand in inherited guilt. Adam’s guilt is imputed to all that were in his loins. Adam lived and fell as our natural and federal head. Our moral life stands in root-relation to his moral life. We were in him. He carried us in himself. His state determined our state. Hence by the righteous judgment of God his guilt was imputed to all his posterity, for as much as, by the will of man, they should successively be born of his loins. By virtue of this inherited guilt we are conceived in sin and born in the participation of sin.

God is our Creator, and from His hands we came forth pure and undefiled. To teach otherwise is to make Him the Author of individual sin, and to destroy the sense of guilt in the soul. Hence sin, especially original sin, does not originate in our creation by the hand of God, but by our vital relation with the sinful race. Our person does not proceed from our parents. This is in direct conflict with the indivisibility of spirit, with the Word of God, and its confession that God is our Creator, “who has also made me.”

However, all creation is not the same. There is mediate and immediate creation. God created light by immediate creation, but grass and herbs mediately, for they spring from the ground. The same difference exists between the creation of Adam and that of his posterity. The creation of Adam was immediate: not of his body, which was taken from the dust, but of his person, the human being called Adam. His posterity, however, is a mediate creation, for every conception is made to depend upon the will of man. Hence while we come from the hand of God pure and undefiled, we become at the same time partakers of the inherited and imputed guilt of Adam; and by virtue of this inherited guilt, through our conception and birth, God brings us into fellowship with the sin of the race. How this is brought about is an unfathomable mystery but this is a fact, that we become partakers of the sin of the race by generation, which begins with conception and ends with birth.

XIX.

The Holy Spirit in the Mystery of the Incarnation.

“The Word was made flesh and dwelt among us, and we beheld His glory.”—John i. 14.

There is one more question in the treatment of this subject: What was the extraordinary operation of the Holy Spirit that enabled the Son of God to assume our fallen nature without being defiled by sin?

Altho we concede it to be unlawful to pry into that behind the veil which God does not freely open to us, yet we may seek the meaning of the words that embody the mystery; and this we intend to do in the discussion of this question.

The Incarnation of Christ, with reference to His sinlessness, is connected with the being of sin, the character of original sin, the relation between body and soul, regeneration, and the working of the Holy Spirit in believers. Hence it is necessary for a clear understanding to have a correct view of the relation of Christ’s human nature to these important matters.

Sin is not a spiritual bacillus hiding in the blood of the mother and received into the veins of the child. Sin is not material and tangible; its nature is moral and spiritual, belonging to the invisible things whose results we can perceive but whose real being escapes detection. Wherefore in opposition to Manicheism and kindred heresies, the Church has always confessed that sin is not a material substance in our flesh and blood, but that it consists in the loss of the original righteousness in which Adam and Eve bloomed and prospered in Paradise. Nor do believers differ on this point, for all acknowledge that sin is the loss of original righteousness.

However, tracing the next step in the course of sin, we meet a serious difference between the Church of Rome and our own. The former teaches that Adam came forth perfect from the hand of his Maker, even before he was endowed with original righteousness. This implies that the human nature is finished without original righteousness, which is put on him like a robe or ornament. As our present nature is complete without dress or ornament, which are needed only to appear respectable in the world, so was the human nature, according to Rome, complete and perfect in itself without righteousness, which serves only as dress and jewel. But the Reformed churches have always opposed this view, maintaining that original righteousness is an essential part of the human nature; hence that the human nature in Adam was not complete without it; that it was not merely added to Adam’s nature, but that Adam was created in the possession of it as the direct manifestation of his life.

If Adam’s nature was perfect before he possessed original righteousness, it follows that it remains perfect after the loss of it; in which case we describe sin simply as “carentia justitix origirialis;” i.e., the want of original righteousness. This used to be expressed thus: Is original righteousness a natural or supernatural good? If natural, then its loss caused the human nature to be wholly corrupt; if supernatural, then its loss might take away the glory and honor of that nature, but as a human nature it retained nearly all of its original power.

Bellarminus said that desire, disease, conflict, etc., naturally belong to human nature; and original righteousness was a golden bridle laid upon this nature, to check and control this desire, disease, conflict, etc. Hence when the golden bride was lost, disease, desire, conflict, and death broke loose from restraint (tom. iv., chap. v., col. 15, 17, 18). Thomas Aquinas, to whom Calvin was greatly indebted, and whom the present Pope has earnestly commended to his priests, had a more correct view. This is evident from his definition of sin. If disease, desire, etc., existed in man when he came from the hand of God, and only supernatural grace can restrain them, then sin is merely the loss of original righteousness, hence purely negative. But if original righteousness belongs to human nature and was not simply added to it supernaturally, then sin is twofold: first, the loss of original righteousness; second, the ruin and corruption of human nature itself, disorganizing and disjointing it. Thomas Aquinas acknowledges this last aspect, for he teaches (“Summa Theologiæ,” prima secundæ, ix., sect. 2, art. 1) that sin is not only deprivation and loss, but also a state of corruption, wherein must be distinguished the lack of what ought to be present, i.e., original righteousness, and the presence of what ought to be absent, viz., an abnormal derangement of the parts and powers of the soul.

Our fathers held almost the same view. They judged that sin is not material, but the loss of original righteousness. But since original righteousness belongs to the sound human nature, the loss did not leave that nature intact, but damaged, disjointed, and corrupted it.

To illustrate: A beautiful geranium that adorned the window was killed by the frost. Leaves and flowers withered, leaving only a mass of mildew and decay. What was the cause? Merely the loss of the sun’s light and heat. But that was enough; for these belong to the nature of the plant, and are essential to its life and beauty. Deprived of them it remains not what it is, but its nature loses its soundness, and this causes decay, mildew, and poisonous gases, which soon destroy it. So of human nature: In Paradise Adam was like the blooming plant, flourishing in the warmth and brightness of the Lord’s presence. By sin he fled from that presence. The result was not merely the loss of light and heat, but since these were essential to his nature, that nature languished, drooped, and withered. The mildew of corruption formed upon it; and the positive process of dissolution was begun, to end only in eternal death.

Facts and history prove even now that the human body has weakened since the days of the Reformation; that bad habits of a certain character sometimes pass from father to child even where the early death of the former precludes propagation by education and example. Hence the difference between Adam, body and soul, before the fall and his descendants after the fall is not merely the loss of the Sun of Righteousness, which by nature shines no longer upon them, but the damage caused by this loss to the human nature, in body and soul, which thereby are weakened, diseased, corrupted, and thrown out of balance.

This corrupt nature passes from the father to the child, as the Confession of Faith expresses it in article xv.: “That original sin is a corruption of the whole nature, and an hereditary disease, wherewith infants themselves are infected in their mother’s womb, and which produces in man all sorts of sin, being in him as a root thereof.”

However, the relation between a person and his ego must be taken into account. The disordered condition of our flesh and blood inclines and incites to sin, a fact that has been observed in the victims of certain terrible diseases as their effect. But this could not result in sin if there were no personal ego to allow itself to be excited. Again, tho the unbalanced powers of the soul which cause the darkening of the understanding, the blunting of the sensibilities, and the weakening of the will arouse the passions, yet even this could not result in sin if no personal ego were affected by this working. Hence sin puts its own mark upon this corruption only when the personal ego turns away from God, and in that disordered soul and diseased body stands condemned before Him.

If according to established law the unclean brings forth the unclean, and if God has made our birth to depend upon generation by sinful men, it must follow that by nature we are born—first, without original righteousness; secondly, with an impaired body; thirdly, with a soul out of harmony with itself; lastly, with a personal ego which is turned away from God.

All of which would apply to the Person of the Mediator if, like one of us, He had been born a human person by the will of man and not of God. But since He was not born a human person, but took our human nature upon Himself, and was conceived not by the will of man, but by an operation of the Holy Spirit, there could not be in Him an ego turned away from God, nor could the weakness of His human nature for a moment be a sinful weakness. Or to put it in the concrete: Altho there was in that fallen nature something to incite Him to desire, yet it never became desire. There is a difference between the temptations and conflicts of Jesus and those of ourselves; while our ego and nature desire against God, His holy Ego opposed the incitement of His adopted nature and was never overcome.

Hence the proper work of the Holy Spirit consisted in this:

First, the creation not of a new person, but of a human nature, which the Son assumed into union with His divine nature in one Person.

Second, that the divine-human Ego of the Mediator, who, according to His human nature, also possessed spiritual life, was kept from the inward defilement which by virtue of our birth affected our ego and personality.

Hence regeneration, which affects not our nature but our person, is out of the question with reference to Christ. But what Christ needed was the gifts of the Holy Ghost to enable His weakened nature, in increasing measure, to be His instrument in the working out of His holy design; and finally to transform His weakened nature not by regeneration, but by resurrection into a glorious nature, divested of the last trace of weakness and prepared to unfold its highest glory.

XXI.

Not Like unto Us.

“Then was Jesus led up of the Spirit into the wilderness.”—Matt. iv. 1.

The representation that Christ’s human nature received animating and qualifying influences and impulses directly from His divine nature, altho on the whole incorrect, contains also some truth.

We often distinguish between our ego and nature. We say: “I have my nature against me,” or “My nature is in my favor”; hence it follows that our person animates and actuates our nature. Applying this to the Person of the Mediator, we must distinguish between His human nature and His Person. The latter existed from eternity, the former He adopted in time. And since in the Son the divine Person and the divine nature are nearly one, it must be acknowledged that the Godhead of our Lord directly controlled His human nature. This is the meaning of the confession of God’s children that His Godhead supported His human nature.

But it is wrong to suppose that the divine Person accomplished in His human nature what in us is effected by the Holy Spirit. This would endanger His true and real humanity. The Scripture positively denies it.

Second—The work of the Holy Spirit in the consecration of Jesus to His office (see “First,” on p. 93).

This ought to be carefully noticed, especially since the Church has never sufficiently confessed the influence of the Holy Spirit exerted upon the work of Christ. The general impression is that the work of the Holy Spirit begins when the work of the Mediator on earth is finished, as tho until that time the Holy Spirit celebrated His divine day of rest. Yet the Scripture teaches us again and again that Christ performed His mediatorial work controlled and impelled by the Holy Spirit. We consider this influence now with reference to His consecration to His office.

By the spirit of the prophets already Christ testified of this saving by the mouth of Isaiah: “The Spirit of the Lord Jehovah is upon me, because the Lord hath anointed me to preach good tidings unto the meek.” But the great fact which could not be learned from prophecy is that of the descent of the Holy Spirit at Jordan. Surely Isaiah referred partly to this event, but principally to the anointing in the counsel of peace. However, when Jesus went up out of Jordan, and the Holy Spirit descended upon Him like a dove, and a voice was heard from heaven saying, “This is My beloved Son,” then only the anointing became actual.

In regard to the event itself, only a few words. That Christ’s Baptism was not a mere form, but the fulfilling of all righteousness proves that He descended into the water burdened with our sins. Hence St. John makes the words, “Behold the Lamb of God,” (John i. 29) precede the account of His Baptism. Wherefore it is incorrect to say, that Christ was installed into His Messianic office only at His Baptism. On the contrary, He was anointed from eternity. Wherefore He may not be represented as being for a moment unconscious, according to the measure of His development, of the Messiah task that rested upon Him. This lay in His holy Person; it was not added to Him at a later period, but was His before Adam fell. And as in His human consciousness His Person gradually attained stature, it was always the stature of the Messiah. This is evident from His answer when, at the age of twelve, He spoke of the things of His Father which were to occupy Him; and still more clearly from His words to John the Baptist commandingly saying: “Suffer it to be so now, for thus it becometh us to fulfil all righteousness.”

And yet it is only at His Baptism that Jesus receives the actual consecration to His office. This is proven from the fact that immediately after this He entered publicly upon His office as a Teacher; and also from the event itself, and the voice from heaven pointing to Him as the Messiah; and especially from the descent of the Holy Spirit, which can not be interpreted in any other way than as His consecration to His holy office.

What we have said with reference to the communication of the Holy Spirit qualifying one for office, as in the case of Saul, David, and others, is of direct application here. Altho in His human nature Jesus was personally in constant fellowship with the Holy Spirit, yet the official communication was established only at the time of His Baptism. Yet with this difference, that while in others the person and his office are separated at death, in the Messiah the two remain united even in and after death, to continue so until the moment that He shall deliver the Kingdom unto God the Father, that God may be all in all. Hence the descriptive remark of John: “I saw the Spirit descending from heaven, and it abode on Him” (John i. 32).

And finally, to the question why the Person of the Mediator needed this remarkable event and the three signs that accompany it, we answer:

First, Christ must be a true man even in His office, wherefore He must be installed according to the human custom. He enters upon His public ministry at thirty; He is publicly installed; and He is anointed with the Holy Spirit.

Second, for His human consciousness this striking revelation from heaven was of the utmost necessity. The conflict of the temptation was to be absolute, i.e., indescribable; hence the impression of His consecration must be indestructible.

Third, for the apostles and the Church it was necessary to distinguish unmistakably the true Messiah from all the pseudo-messiahs and antichrists. This is the reason of St. John’s strong appeal to this event.

If the work of the Holy Spirit with reference to the consecration is conspicuous and clearly indicated, the fact that the official influence of the Holy Spirit accompanied the Mediator throughout the entire administration of His office is not less clearly set forth in the Holy Scripture. This appears from the events immediately following the Baptism. St. Luke relates that Jesus being full of the Holy Spirit, was led by the Spirit into the wilderness. St. Matthew adds: “To be tempted of the devil.” Of Elias, Ezekiel, and others it is said that the Spirit took them up and transferred them to some other place. This stands in evident connection with what we read here concerning Jesus. With this difference, however, that while the propelling power came to them from without, Jesus, being full of the Holy Spirit, felt its pressure in the very depths of His soul. And yet, altho operating in His soul, this action of the Holy Spirit was not identical with the impulses of Christ’s human nature. Of Himself Jesus would not have gone into the desert; His going there was the result of the Holy Spirit’s leading. Only in this way this passage receives its full explanation.

That this leading of the Holy Spirit was not limited to this one act appears from St. Luke, who relates (chap. iv. 14) that after the temptation He returned in the power of the Holy Spirit into Galilee, thus entering upon the public ministry of His prophetic office.

It is evidently the purpose of the Scripture to emphasize the fact of the inability of the human nature which Christ had adopted to accomplish the work of the Messiah without the constant operation and powerful leading of the Holy Spirit, whereby it was so strengthened that it could be the instrument of the Son of God for the performance of His wonderful work.

Jesus was conscious of this, and at the beginning of His ministry expressly indicated it. In their synagogue He turned to Isa. lxi. 1, and read to them: “The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because the Lord hath anointed me”; then added: “This day is this Scripture fulfilled in your ears.”

The Holy Spirit did not support His human nature in the temptation and in the opening ministry only, but in all His mighty deeds, as Christ Himself testified: “If I cast out devils by the Spirit of God, then the Kingdom of God is come unto you” (Matt. xii. 28). Moreover, St. Paul teaches that the gifts of healing and miracles proceed from the Holy Spirit, and this, in connection with the statement that these powers worked in Jesus (Mark vi. 14), convinces us that these were the very powers of the Holy Spirit. Again, it is frequently said He rejoiced in the Spirit or was troubled in the Spirit, which may be interpreted as a rejoicing or being troubled in His own spirit; but this is not a complete explanation. When it refers to His own spirit it reads: “And He sighed deeply in His spirit” (Mark viii. 12). But in the other cases we interpret the expressions as pointing to those deeper and more glorious emotions of which our human nature is susceptible only when abiding in the Holy Spirit. For altho St. John states that Jesus groaned in Himself (chap. xi. 38), this is not contradictory, especially with reference to Jesus. If the Holy Spirit always abode in Him, the same emotion may be attributed both to Him and to the Holy Spirit.

Apart, however, from these passages and their interpretations, we have said enough to prove that that part of Christ’s work of mediation, beginning with His Baptism and closing in the upper chamber, was marked by the operation, influence, and support of the Holy Spirit.

According to the divine counsel, human nature is adapted in creation to the inworking of the Holy Spirit, without which it can not unfold itself any more than the rosebud without the light and influence of the sun. As the ear can not hear without sound, and the eye can not see without light, so is our human nature incomplete without the light and indwelling of the Holy Spirit. Wherefore, when the Son assumed human nature He took it just as it is, i.e., incapable of any holy action without the power of the Holy Spirit. Hence He was conceived by the Holy Spirit, that from the beginning His human nature should be richly endowed with powers. The Holy Spirit developed these powers; and He was consecrated to His office by the communication to His human nature of the Messianic gifts by which He still intercedes for us as our High Priest, and rules us as our King. And for this reason He was guided, impelled, animated, and supported by the Holy Spirit at every step of His Messianic ministry.

There are three differences between this communication of the Holy Spirit to the human nature of Jesus and that in us:

First, the Holy Spirit always meets with the resistance of evil in our hearts. Jesus’s heart was without sin and unrighteousness. Hence in His human nature the Holy Spirit met no resistance.

Secondly, the Holy Spirit’s operation, influence, support, and guidance in our human nature is always individual, i.e., in part, imperfect; in the human nature of Jesus it was central, perfect, leaving no void.

Thirdly, in our nature the Holy Spirit meets with an ego which in union with that nature opposes God; while the Person which He met in the human nature of Christ, partaking of the divine nature, was absolutely holy. For the Son having adopted the human nature in union with His Person, was cooperating with the Holy Spirit.

XXII.

The Holy Spirit in the Passion of Christ.

“Who through the Eternal Spirit offered Himself.”—Heb. ix. 14.

Thirdly—Let us now trace the work of the Holy Spirit in the suffering, death, resurrection, and exaltation of Christ (see “First” and “Second,” pp. 93 and 97).

In the Epistle to the Hebrews the apostle asks: “If the blood of goats and calves and the ashes of the heifer sprinkling the unclean, sanctifieth to the purification of the flesh, how much more shall the blood of Christ purge your conscience from dead works?” adding the words: “Who through the Eternal Spirit offered Himself without spot to God.” The meaning of these words has been much disputed. Beza and Gomarus understood the Eternal Spirit to signify Christ’s divine nature. Calvin and the majority of reformers made it to refer to the Holy Spirit. Expositors of the present day, especially those of rationalistic tendencies, understand by it merely the tension of Christ’s human nature.

With the majority of orthodox expositors we adopt the view of Calvin. The difference between Beza and Calvin is that already referred to. The question is, whether as regards His human nature Christ substituted the inworking of the Son for that of the Holy Spirit; or did He have the ordinary operation of the Holy Spirit?

At the present time many have adopted the former view without clearly understanding the difference. They reason thus: “Are the two natures not united in the Person of Jesus? Why, then, should the Holy Spirit be added to qualify the human nature? Could the Son Himself not do this?” And so they reach the conclusion that since the Mediator is God, there could be no need of a work of the Holy Spirit in the human nature of Christ. And yet this view must be rejected, for—

First, God has so created human nature that without the Holy Spirit it can not have any virtue or holiness. Adam’s original, righteousness was the work and fruit of the Holy Spirit as truly as the new life in the regenerate is today. The shining-in of the Holy Spirit is as essential to holiness as the shining of light into the eye is essential to seeing.

Second, the work of the Son according to the distinction of three divine Persons is other than the work of the Holy Spirit with reference to the human nature. The Holy Spirit could not become flesh; this the Son alone could do. The Father has not delivered all things to the Holy Spirit. The Holy Spirit works from the Son but the Son depends upon the Holy Spirit for the application of redemption to individuals. The Son adopts our nature, thus relating Himself with the whole race; but the Holy Spirit alone can so enter into individual souls as to glorify the Son in the children of God.

Applying these two principles to the Person of Christ, we see that His human nature could not dispense with the constant inshining of the Holy Spirit. For which reason Scripture declares: “He gave Him the Spirit without measure.” Nor could the Son according to His own nature take the place of the Holy Spirit; but in the divine economy, by virtue of His union with the human nature ever depended upon the Holy Spirit.

As to the question, whether the Godhead of Christ did not support His humanity, we answer: Undoubtedly; but never independently of the Holy Spirit. We faint because we resist, grieve, and repel the Holy Spirit. Christ was always victorious because His divinity never relaxed His hold upon the Holy Spirit in His humanity, but embraced Him and clave unto Him with all the love and energy of the Son of God.

Human nature is limited. It is susceptible of receiving the Holy Spirit so as to be His temple. But that susceptibility has its limits. Opposed by eternal death, it loses its tension and falls away from the fellowship of the Holy Spirit. Hence we have no unlosable good in ourselves, but only as members of the body of Christ. Apart from Him, eternal death would have power over us, would separate us from the Holy Spirit and destroy us. Wherefore all our salvation lies in Christ. He is our anchor cast within the veil. As to the human nature of Christ, it encountered and passed through eternal death. This could not be otherwise. If He had passed only through temporal death, eternal death would still be unvanquished.

To the question how His human nature could pass through eternal death and not perish, having no Mediator to support it, we answer: The human nature of Christ would have been overwhelmed by it, the in-shining of the Holy Spirit would have ceased if His divine nature, i.e., the infinite might of His Godhead, had not been underneath it. Hence the apostle declares: “Who through the Eternal Spirit offered Himself”; not through the Holy Spirit. The two expressions are not identical. There is a difference between the Holy Spirit, the third Person in the Godhead, apart from me, and the Holy Spirit working within me.

The word of Scripture, “He was full of the Holy Ghost,” refers not only to the Person of the Holy Spirit, but also to His work in man’s soul. So with reference to Christ, there is a difference between: “He was conceived by the Holy Ghost,” “The Holy Ghost descended upon Him,” “Being full of the Holy Spirit,” “Who offered Himself by the Eternal Spirit.” The last two passages indicate the fact that the spirit of Jesus had taken in the Holy Spirit and identified itself with Him, in almost the same sense as Acts xv. 28: “It seemed good to the Holy Ghost and to us.” The term “Eternal Spirit” was chosen to indicate that the divine-human Person of Christ entered into such indissoluble fellowship with the Holy Spirit as even eternal death could not break.

A closer examination of the sufferings of Christ will make this clear.

Christ did not redeem us by His sufferings alone, being spit upon, scourged, crowned with thorns, crucified, and slain; but this passion was made effectual to our redemption by His love and voluntary obedience. These are generally called His passive and active satisfaction. By the first we understand His actual bearing of pain, anguish, and death; by the second, His zeal for the honor of God, the love, faithfulness, and divine pity by which He became obedient even unto death—yea, the death of the cross. And these two are essentially distinct. Satan, e.g., bears punishment also and shall bear it forever; but he lacks the willingness. This, however, does not affect the validity of the punishment. A murderer on the gallows may curse God and men to the end; but this does not invalidate his punishment. Whether he curses or prays, it is equally valid.

Hence there was in Christ’s sufferings much more than mere passive, penal satisfaction. Nobody compelled Jesus. He, partaker of the divine nature, could not be compelled, but offered Himself quite voluntarily: “Lo, I come to do Thy will, O God; in the volume of the book it is written of Me.” To render that voluntary sacrifice He had with equal willingness adopted the prepared body: “Who being in the form of God thought it no robbery to be equal with God, but made Himself of no reputation; and being found in fashion as a man, He humbled Himself and became obedient unto death, even the death of the cross”; “Who, tho He were a Son, yet learned He obedience.” And to give highest proof of this obedience unto death, He inwardly consecrated Himself to death, as He Himself testified: “I sanctify Myself for them.”

This leads to the important question, whether Jesus rendered this obedience and consecration outside of His human nature, or in it, so that it manifested itself in His human nature. Undoubtedly the latter. The divine nature can not learn, or be tempted; the Son could not love the Father with other than eternal love. In the divine nature there is no more or less. To suppose this is to annihilate the divine nature. The statement that, “tho He were the Son, yet learned He obedience,” does not mean that as God He learned obedience; for God can not obey. God rules, governs, commands, but never obeys. As King He can serve us only in the form of a slave, hiding His princely majesty, having emptied Himself, standing before us as one despised among men. “Tho He were the Son” means, therefore: altho in His inward Being He is God the Son, yet He stood before us in such lowliness that nothing betrayed His divinity; yea, so lowly that He even learned obedience.

Wherefore if the Mediator as man showed in His human nature such zeal for God and such pity for sinners that He willingly gave Himself in self-sacrifice unto death, then it is evident that His human nature could not exercise such consecration without the inworking of the Holy Spirit; and again that the Holy Spirit could not have effected such inworking unless the Son willed and desired it. The cry of the Messiah is heard in the words of the psalmist: “I delight to do Thy will, O God.” The Son was willing so to empty Himself that it would be possible for His human nature to pass through eternal death; and to this end He let it be filled with all the mightiness of the Spirit of God. Thus the Son offered Himself “through the Eternal Spirit that we might serve the living God.”

Hence the work of the Holy Spirit in the work of redemption did not begin only at Pentecost, but the same Holy Spirit who in creation animates all life, upholds and qualifies our human nature, and in Israel and the prophets wrought the work of revelation, also prepared the body of Christ, adorned His human nature with gracious gifts, put these gifts into operation, installed Him into His office, led Him into temptation, qualified Him to cast out devils, and finally enabled Him to finish that eternal work of satisfaction whereby our souls are redeemed.

This explains why Beza and Gomarus could not be fully satisfied with Calvin’s exposition. Calvin said that it was the working of the Holy Spirit apart from the divinity of the Son. And they felt that there was something lacking. For the Son made Himself of no reputation and became obedient; but if all this is the work of the Holy Spirit, then nothing is left of the work of the Son. And to escape from this, they adopted the other extreme, and declared that the Eternal Spirit had reference only to the Son according to His divine nature—an exposition that can not be accepted, for the divine nature is never designated as spirit.

Yet they were not altogether wrong. The reconciliation of these contrary views must be looked for in the difference between the existence of the Holy Spirit without us, and His working within us as received by our nature and identified with its own working. And inasmuch as the Son, by His Godhead, enabled His human nature, in the awful conflict with eternal death, to effect this union; therefore the apostle confesses that the sacrifice of the Mediator was rendered by the working of the Eternal Spirit.

XXIII.

The Holy Spirit in the Glorified Christ.

“Declared to be the Son of God with power, according to the Spirit of holiness, by the resurrection from the dead.”—Rom. i. 4.

From the foregoing studies it appears that the Holy Spirit performed a work in the human nature of Christ as He descended the several steps of His humiliation to the death of the cross.

The question now arises, whether He had also a work in the several steps of Christ’s exaltation to the excellent glory, i.e., in His resurrection, ascension, royal dignity, and second coming.

Before we answer this question let us first consider the nature of this work in the exaltation. For it is evident that it must greatly differ from that in His humiliation. In the latter His human nature suffered violence. His sufferings antagonized not only His divine nature, but also His human nature. To suffer pain, insult, and mockery, to be scourged and crucified, goes against human nature. The effort to resist such sufferings and to escape from them is perfectly natural. Christ’s groaning in Gethsemane is the natural utterance of the human feeling. He was burdened with the curse and wrath of God against the sin of the race. Then human nature struggled against the burden, and the cry, “Father, let this cup pass from Me,” was the sincere and natural cry of horror which human nature could not repress.

And not in Gethsemane alone; through His whole humiliation He experienced the same, tho in less degree. His self-emptying was not a single loss or bereavement, but a growing poorer and poorer, until at last nothing was left Him but a piece of ground where He could weep and a cross whereon He could die. He renounced all that heart and flesh hold dear, until, without friend or brother, without one tone of love, amid the mocking laughter of His slanderers, He gave up the ghost. Surely He trod the winepress alone.

Third, How could the apostles—having already confessed the good confession, forsaking all, following Jesus, and upon whom He had breathed, saying, “Receive ye the Holy Ghost “ —receive the Holy Spirit only on the tenth day after the ascension?

Fourth, How are we to explain the mysterious signs that accompany the outpouring? There are no angels praising God, but a sound is heard like that of a rushing, mighty wind; the glory of the Lord does not appear, but tongues of fire hover over their heads; there is no theophany, but a speaking in peculiar and uncommon sounds, understood, however, by those present.

With reference to the first difficulty: How to explain the fact that, while the Holy Spirit was poured out only on Pentecost, the saints of the Old Covenant were already partakers of His gifts. Let us put this in the concrete: How are the following passages to be reconciled? “I am with you, saith the Lord of Hosts, and My Spirit remaineth among you, fear ye not” (Hag. ii. 4, 5); and “This spake He of the Holy Spirit which they that believe should receive; for the Holy Spirit was not yet given, because that Jesus was not yet glorified” (John vii. 39).

Scripture evidently seeks to impress us with the two facts, that the Holy Spirit came only on the day of Pentecost, and that the same Spirit had wrought already for centuries in the Church of the Old Covenant. Not only does St. John declare definitely that the Holy Spirit was not yet given, but the predictions of the prophets and of Jesus and the whole attitude of the apostles show that this fact may not in the least be weakened.

Let us first examine the prophecies. Isaiah, Ezekiel, and Joel bear undeniable witness to the fact that this was the expectation of the prophets.

Isaiah says: “The palaces shall be forsaken, the multitudes of the city shall be left—until the Spirit shall be poured upon us from on high; then the wilderness shall be a fruitful field, and the fruitful field shall be counted for a forest; then judgment shall dwell in the wilderness, and righteousness remain in the fruitful field.” This prophecy evidently refers to an outpouring of the Holy Spirit that shall effect a work of salvation on a large scale, for it closes with the promise: “And the work of righteousness shall be peace, and the effect of righteousness, quietness, and assurance forever” (Isa. xxxii. 14-17).

In like manner did Ezekiel prophesy “Then will I sprinkle clean water upon you, and ye shall be clean; a new heart also will I give you, and a new spirit will I put within you; and I will put My Spirit within you, and cause you to walk in My statutes; and ye shall keep My judgments, and do them; and I will save you from all your uncleanness. Not for yourselves will I do this, saith the Lord, be it known unto you” (chap. xxxvi. 25). Ezek. xi. 19 gives the prelude of this prophecy: “Thus saith the Lord God, I will give them one heart, and I will give a new Spirit within them; and I will take the stony heart out of their flesh, that they may walk in My statutes.”

Joel uttered his well-known prophecy: “And it shall come to pass afterward that I will pour My Spirit upon all flesh, and your sons and your daughters shall prophesy, your old men shall dream dreams, your young men shall see visions; and also upon thy servants and upon thy handmaidens in those days will I pour out My Spirit” (Joel ii. 30, 31);—a prophecy which, according to the authoritative exposition of St. Peter, refers directly to the day of Pentecost.

Zechariah adds a beautiful prophecy (xii. 10): “I will pour out the Spirit of grace and of supplication.”

It is true that these prophecies were given to Israel during its later period, when the vigorous spiritual life of the nation had already departed. But Moses expressed the same thought in his prophetic prayer: “Would God that all the Lord’s people were prophets, and that the Lord would put His Spirit upon them” (Num. xi. 29). But these prophecies are evidence of the Old Testament prophetic conviction that the dispensation of the Holy Spirit in those days was exceedingly imperfect; that the real dispensation of the Holy Spirit was still tarrying; and that only in the days of the Messiah was it to come in all its fulness and glory.

Regarding the second difficulty, our Lord repeatedly put the stamp of His divine authority upon this prophetic conviction, announcing to His disciples the still future coming of the Holy Spirit: “I will pray the Father and He shall give you another Comforter, that He may abide with you forever; even the Spirit of truth; whom the world can not receive, because it seeth Him not, neither knoweth Him, for He dwelleth with you and shall be in you” (John xiv. 16, 17); “When the Comforter is come whom I will send from the Father, even the Spirit of truth, which proceedeth from the Father, He shall testify of Me” (John xv. 26); “Behold, I send the promise of the Father upon you, and ye shall be endued with power from on high” (Luke xxiv. 49); “It is expedient for you that I go away; for if I go not away the Comforter will not come unto you; but if I depart, I will send Him unto you. And when He is come; He will reprove the world of sin, of righteousness, and of judgment” (John xvi. 7, 8). And lastly: He commanded them not to depart from Jerusalem, but to wait for the promise of the Father, “which, saith He, ye have heard of Me; for John truly baptized with water, but ye shall be baptized with the Holy Ghost not many days hence. And ye shall receive power after that the Holy Ghost is come upon you” (Acts i. 4, 5, 8).

The third difficulty is met by the fact that the communications of the apostles agree with the teaching of Scripture. They actually tarried in Jerusalem, without even attempting to preach during the days between the ascension and Pentecost. And they explain the Pentecost miracle as the fulfilment of the prophecies of Joel and Jesus. They see in it something new and extraordinary; and show us clearly that in their day it was considered that a man who stood outside the Pentecost miracle knew nothing of the Holy Ghost. For the disciples of Ephesus being asked, “Have ye received the Holy Ghost?” answered naively: “We have not so much as heard whether there be any Holy Ghost.”

Wherefore it cannot be doubted that the Holy Scripture means to teach and convince us that the outpouring of the Holy Spirit on Pentecost was His first and real coming into the Church.

But how can this be reconciled with Old Testament passages such as these? “Yet now be strong, O Zerubbabel, saith the Lord; and be strong, O Joshua, the High Priest; . . . for I am with you, . . . and My Spirit remaineth among you: fear ye not” (Hag. ii. 4, 5); and again: “Then He remembered the days of old, Moses, and His people, saying, Where is He that brought them up out of the sea with the Shepherd of His flock? where is He that put His Holy Spirit within them?” (Isa. lxiii. 11). David is conscious that he had received the Holy Spirit, for after his fall he prays: “Take not Thy Holy Spirit from me” (Psalm li. 13). There was a sending forth of the Spirit, for we read: “Thou sendest forth Thy Spirit, and they are created; and Thou renewest the face of the earth” (Psalm civ. 30). There seems to have been an actual descending of the Holy Spirit, for Ezekiel says: “The Spirit of the Lord fell upon me” (chap. xi. 5). Micah testified: “Truly I am full of the power by the Spirit of the Lord” (chap. iii. 8). Of John the Baptist it is written, that he should be filled with the Holy Ghost from his mother’s womb—Luke i. 15. Even the Lord Himself was filled with the Holy Spirit, whom He received without measure. That Spirit came upon Him at Jordan, how then could He be spoken of as still to come?—a question all the more puzzling since we read that in the evening of the resurrection Jesus breathed upon His disciples, saying “Receive ye the Holy Ghost” (John xx. 22).

It has been necessary to present this large series of testimonies to show our readers the difficulty of the problem which we will endeavor to solve in the next article.

XXV.

The Holy Spirit in the New Testament Other than in the Old.

“By His Spirit which dwelleth in you.”—Rom. viii. 11.

In order to understand the change inaugurated on Pentecost we must distinguish between the various ways in which the Holy Ghost enters into relationship with the creature.

With the Christian Church we confess that the Holy Spirit is true and eternal God, and therefore omnipresent; hence no creature, stone or animal, man or angel, is excluded from His presence.

With reference to His omniscience and omnipresence, David sings: “Whither shall I go from Thy Spirit, or whither shall I flee from Thy presence? If I ascend up to heaven, Thou art there; if I make my bed in hell, behold, Thou art there. If I take the wings of the morning and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea, even there shall Thy hand lead me and Thy right hand shall hold me.” These words state positively that omnipresence belongs to the Holy Spirit; that neither in heaven nor in hell, in the east nor in the west, is there a spot or point from which He is excluded.

This simple consideration is, for the matter under discussion, of the greatest importance; for it follows that the Holy Spirit can not be said ever to have moved from one place to another; to have been among Israel, but not among the nations; to have been present after the day of Pentecost where He was not before. All such representations directly oppose the confession of His omnipresence, eternity, and immutability. The Omnipresent One can not go from one place to another, for He can not come where He is already. And to suppose that He is omnipresent at one time and not at another is inconsistent with His eternal Godhead. The testimony of John the Baptist, “I saw the Spirit descending from heaven like a dove, and it abode on Him,” and that of St. Luke, “The Holy Spirit fell on all them which heard the Word,” may not therefore be understood as tho the Holy Spirit came to a place where He was not before, which is impossible.

However—and this is the first distinction which will throw light upon the matter—David’s description of omnipresence applies to local presence in space, but not to the world of spirits.

We know not what spirits are, nor what our own spirit is. In the body we can distinguish between nerves and blood, bones and muscles, and we know something of their functions in the organism; but how a spirit exists, moves, and works, we can not tell. We only know that it exists, moves, and works in an entirely different way from that of the body. When a brother dies nobody opens a door or window for the exit of the soul; for we know that neither wall nor ceiling can hinder it in its heavenward flight. In prayer we whisper so as not to be overheard; yet we believe that the man Jesus Christ hears every word. The swiftness of a thought exceeds that of electricity. In a word, the limitations of the material world seem to disappear in the realm of spirits.

Even the working of spirit on matter is wonderful. The average weight of an adult is about one hundred and sixty pounds. It takes three or four men to carry a dead body of that weight to the top of a high building; yet when the man was alive his spirit had the power to carry this weight up and down those flights of stairs easily and quickly. But where the spirit takes hold of the body, how it moves it, and where it obtains that swiftness, is for us a perfect mystery. Yet this shows that spirit is subject to laws wholly different from those that govern matter.

We emphasize the word law. According to the analogy of faith, there must be laws that govern the spiritual world as there are in the natural; yet owing to our limitations we can not know them. But in heaven we shall know them, and all the glories and particulars of the spiritual world, as our physicians know the nerves and tissues of the body.

This we know, however, that that which applies to matter does not therefore apply to spirit. God’s omnipresence has reference to all space, but not to every spirit. Since God is omnipresent, it does not follow that He also dwells in the spirit of Satan. Hence, it is clear that the Holy Spirit can be omnipresent without dwelling in every human soul; and that He can descend without changing place, and yet enter a soul hitherto unoccupied by Him; and that He was present among Israel and among the Gentiles, and yet manifested Himself among the former and not among the latter. From this it follows that in the spiritual world He can come where He was not; that He came among Israel, not having been among them before; and that then He manifested Himself among them less powerfully and in another way than on and before the day of Pentecost.

The Holy Spirit seems to act upon a human being in a twofold manner—from without, or from within. The difference is similar to that in the treatment of the human body by the physician and the surgeon: the former acts upon it by medicines taken inwardly; the latter by incisions and outward applications. A very defective comparison, indeed, but it may illustrate faintly the twofold operation of the Holy Spirit upon the souls of men.

In the beginning we discover only an outward imparting of certain gifts. On Samson He bestows great physical strength. Aholiab and Bezaleel are endowed with artistic talent to build the tabernacle. Joshua is enriched with military genius. These operations did not touch the center of the soul, and were not saving, but merely external. They become more enduring when they assume an official character as in Saul; altho in him we find the best evidence of the fact that they are only outward and temporal. They assume a higher character when they receive the prophetic stamp; altho Balaam’s example shows us that even thus they penetrate not to the center of the soul, but affect man only outwardly.

But in the Old Testament there was also an inward operation in believers. Believing Israelites were saved. Hence they must have received saving grace. And since saving grace is out of the question without an inward working of the Holy Spirit, it follows that He was the Worker of faith in Abraham as well as in ourselves.

The difference between the two operations is apparent. A person outwardly wrought upon may become enriched with outward gifts, while spiritually he remains as poor as ever. Or, having received the inward gift of regeneration, he may be devoid of every talent that adorns man outwardly.

Hence we have these three aspects:

First, there is the omnipresence of the Holy Spirit in space, the same in heaven and in hell, among Israel and among the nations.

Second, there is a spiritual operation of the Holy Spirit according to choice, which is not omnipresent; active in heaven, but not in hell; among Israel, but not among the nations.

XXVI.

Israel and the Nations.

“Because that on the Gentiles also was poured out the gift of the Holy Ghost.”—Acts x. 45.

The question that arises with reference to Pentecost is: Since the Holy Spirit imparted saving grace to men before and after Pentecost, what is the difference caused by that descent of the Holy Spirit?

An illustration may explain the difference. The rain descends from heaven and man gathers it to quench his thirst. When householders collect it each in his own cistern, it comes down for every family separately; but when, as in modern city life, every house is supplied from the city reservoir, by means of mains and water-pipes, there is no more need of pumps and private cisterns. Suppose that a city whose citizens for ages have been drinking each from his own cistern proposes to construct a reservoir that will supply every home. When the work is completed the water is allowed to run through the system of mains and pipes into every house. It might then be said that on that day the water was poured out into the city. Hitherto it fell upon every man’s roof: now it streams through the organized system into every man’s house.

Apply this to the pouring out of the Holy Spirit, and the difference before and after Pentecost will be apparent. The mild showers of the Holy Spirit descended upon Israel of old in drops of saving grace; but in such a manner only that each gathered of the heavenly rain for himself, to quench the thirst of each heart separately. So it continued until the coming of Christ. Then there came a change; for He gathered the full stream of the Holy Spirit for us all, in His own Person. With Him all saints are connected by the channels of faith. And when, after His ascension, this connection with His saints was completed, and He had received the Holy Spirit from His Father, then the last obstacle was removed and the full stream of the Holy Spirit came rushing through the connecting channels into the heart of every believer.

Formerly isolation, every man for himself; now organic union of all the members under their one Head: this is the difference between the days before and after Pentecost. The essential fact of Pentecost consisted in this, that on that day the Holy Spirit entered for the first time into the organic body of the Church, and individuals came to drink, not each by himself, but all together in organic union.

To the question where that system of connecting channels uniting us in one body under our Head may be found, we can give no answer. This belongs to things invisible and spiritual which escape our observation, of which we can have no other representation than that by an image.

Yet this does not alter the fact that the organic union really exists. The Word of God is to us its undeniable witness. Organic life appears in nature in two forms: in the plant, and in the body of man and animal. These are the very types that Christ uses to illustrate the spiritual union between Himself and His people. He said: “I am the Vine, ye are the branches.” And St. Paul speaks of having become one plant with Christ. And he frequently uses the image of the body and its members.

Hence there can be no doubt that there exists a mystic union between Christ and believers which works by means of an organic connection, uniting the Head and the members in a for us invisible and incomprehensible manner. By means of this organic union the Holy Spirit was poured out on Pentecost from Christ the Head into us, the members of His body.

If it were possible to construct the city’s water-works in the air above the city, the chief engineer could properly say: “When I turn on the water for the first time I will baptize the city with water.” In similar sense Christ may be said to have baptized His Church with the Holy Spirit. For the word of John the Baptist, “I indeed baptize you with water, but He that cometh after me is mightier than I; He shall baptize you with the Holy Ghost,” is explained by Christ Himself as referring to the day of Pentecost (Acts i. 5): “And being assembled together with Him, He commanded them that they should not depart from Jerusalem, but wait for the promise of the Father, which, saith He, ye have heard of Me. For John truly baptized with water, but ye shall be baptized with the Holy Ghost not many days hence”;—a promise that undoubtedly referred to the Pentecost miracle. This agrees with the fact that Jesus during His ministry allowed His disciples to continue the Baptism of John. And this shows that even before the crucifixion, John and Peter, Philip and Zaccheus, and many others received saving grace of the Holy Spirit, each for himself, but none of them was baptized with the Holy Spirit before the day of Pentecost.

With reference to the apostles, we must therefore distinguish a threefold giving of the Holy Spirit:

First, that of saving grace in regeneration and subsequent illumination—Matt. xvi. 17.

Secondly, official gifts qualifying them for the apostolic office—John xx. 22.

Thirdly, the Baptism with the Holy Ghost—Acts i. 5 in connection with Acts ii. 1 ff.

One more difficulty remains. We often read of outpourings of the Holy Spirit after Pentecost. How can this be reconciled with our explanation? In Acts x. 44, 45 we read: “While Peter yet spake these words, the Holy Ghost fell on all who heard the word. And they of the circumcision which believed were astonished, as many as came with Peter, because on the Gentiles also was poured out the gift of the Holy Ghost.” And Peter confirms this by saying: “Can any man forbid water that these should not be baptized, which have received the Holy Ghost as well as we?” From this it is evident that the outpouring on the house of Cornelius was of the same nature as that on Pentecost. Moreover, we hear of a descent of the Holy Ghost in Samaria (Acts viii.), and of another in Ephesus (Acts xix. 6). This descent took place in both instances after the laying on of hands by the apostles; and at Caesarea and Corinth it was followed by a speaking with foreign tongues as in Jerusalem.

It is evident, therefore, that the outpouring of the Holy Spirit was not limited to Pentecost in Jerusalem, but was afterward repeated in a weaker and modified form, but still extraordinarily, as on Pentecost.

And who would deny that there is an outpouring of the Holy Spirit to-day in the churches? Without it there can be no regeneration, no salvation. Yet the Pentecost signs are lacking, e.g., there is no more speaking with tongues. Hence it is necessary to distinguish between the ordinary outpouring which occurs now, and the extraordinary at Corinth, Caesarea, Samaria, and Jerusalem.

Hence the question stands as follows: If on the day of Pentecost the Holy Spirit was poured out once for all and forever, how do we account for the ordinary and extraordinary outpourings?

Allow us once more to recur to our former illustration. Suppose that the city above referred to consisted of a lower and an upper part, both to be supplied from the same reservoir. Upon the completion of its system the lower city may receive the water first, and the upper part receive it only after the system shall have been extended. Here we notice two things: the distribution of the water took place but once, which was the formal opening of the waterworks, and could take place but once; while the distribution of the water in the upper city, altho extraordinary; was but an after-effect of the former event. This is a fair illustration of what took place in the outpouring of the Holy Spirit. The Church consisted of parts sharply defined, viz. the Jewish, and the Gentile world. Yet both are to constitute one body, one people, one Church; both are to live one life in the Holy Ghost. On Pentecost He is poured out into the body, but only to quench the thirst of one part, i.e., the Jewish; the other part is still excluded. But now apostles and evangelists start from Jerusalem and come into contact with the Gentiles, and the hour has come for the stream of the Holy Ghost to pour forth into the Gentile part of the Church, and the whole body is refreshed by the same Holy Spirit. Hence there is an original outpouring in Jerusalem on the day of Pentecost, and a supplementary outpouring in Caesarea for the Gentile part of the Church; both of the same nature, but each bearing its own special character.

Besides these there are some isolated outpourings of the Holy Spirit, attended by the laying on of the apostles’ hands, as in the case of Simon Magus. We explain this as follows: as from time to time new connections are made between individual houses and the city reservoir, so new parts of the body of Christ were added to the Church from without, into whom the Holy Spirit was poured forth from the body as into new members. It is perfectly natural that in these cases the apostles appear as instruments; and that, receiving into the Church persons that come from a part of the world not yet connected with the Church, they extend to them by the laying on of hands the fellowship of the Holy Ghost who dwells in the body.

This also explains why to-day newly converted persons receive the Holy Spirit only in the ordinary way. For they who are converted among us stand already in the covenant, belong already to the seed of the Church and to the body of Christ.

The author refers either to persons baptized in infancy, instructed by the ministers of the Word in the doctrines of the Church and at suitable age received into the Church on confession of their faith, or to persons not so received into the Church, and then on the ground that Holland belongs to the baptized nations.—Trans.

And thus every objection is met and every detail is put in its own place, and the lines of the domain which had become vague and confused are once more clearly drawn.

It is evident also that the prayer for another outpouring or baptism of the Holy Spirit is incorrect and empty of real meaning. Such prayer actually denies the Pentecost miracle. For He that came and abides with us can no more come to us.

XXVII.

The Signs of Pentecost.

“Signs in the earth beneath.” —Acts ii. 19.

Let us now consider the signs that accompanied the outpouring of the Holy Spirit—the sound of a rushing, mighty wind; tongues of fire; and the speaking with other tongues—which constitute the fourth difficulty that meets us in the investigation of the events of Pentecost (see p. 113). The first and second precede, the third follows the outpouring.

These signs are not merely symbolic. The speaking with other tongues, at least, appears as part of the narrative. Symbols are intended to represent or indicate something or to call the attention to it; hence it may be omitted without affecting the matter itself. A symbol is like a finger-post on the road: it may be removed without affecting the road. If the Pentecost signs were purely symbolic, the event would have been the same without them; but the absence of the sign of other tongues would have modified the character of the subsequent history completely.

This justifies the supposition that the two preceding signs were also constituent parts of the miracle. The fact that neither of them is an apt symbol strengthens the supposition; for a symbol must speak. The finger-post that leaves the traveler in doubt concerning the direction he is to take is no finger-post. Considering the fact that for eighteen centuries theologians have been unable to ascertain the significance of the so-called symbols with any degree of certainty, it must be acknowledged that it is difficult to believe that the apostles or the multitude understood their significance at once and in the same way. The issue proves the contrary. They did not understand the signs. The multitude, confounded and perplexed, said one to another: “What meaneth this?” And when Peter arose as an apostle, enlightened by the Holy Spirit, to interpret the miracle, he made no effort to attach any symbolic significance to the signs, but simply declared that an event had taken place by which the prophecy of Joel was fulfilled.

Did the event of Pentecost then exhaust the prophecy of Joel? By no means; for the sun was not turned into darkness, nor the moon into blood; and we hear nothing of the dreams of old men. Nor could it; the notable day that will exhaust this and so many other prophecies can not come until the return of the Lord. But the holy apostle meant to say, that the day of the Lord’s return was brought so much nearer by this event. The outpouring of the Holy Spirit is one of the great events which pledge the coming of that great and notable day. Without it that day can not come. Looking back from heaven, the day of Pentecost will appear to us as the last great miracle immediately preceding the day of the Lord. And since that day shall be attended by awful signs, as was the preparatory day of Pentecost, the apostle puts them together and makes them appear as one, showing that in Joel’s prophecy God points to both events.

If it be certain that the signs attending the Lord’s return—blood, fire, and vapor of smoke—shall not be symbolic, but constituent elements of that last part of the world’s history, viz., its last conflagration, then it is certain that Peter did not understand the signs of Pentecost to be symbolic.

Neither can the still more unsatisfactory explanation be entertained that these signs were intended to draw and fix the attention of the multitude.

The senses of sight and hearing are the most effectual means by which the outside world can act upon our consciousness. In order suddenly to arouse and excite a person, one need only startle him by an explosion or by the flash of a dazzling light. Acting upon this, some of the earlier Methodists used to fire pistols at their revival meetings, hoping that the report and flash would create the desired state of mind. The subsequent excitement of the people would tend to make them more susceptible to the operation of the Holy Spirit. Similar experiments are those of the Salvation Army. According to this notion, the signs of Pentecost bore a similar character. It is supposed by some that the disciples, still unconverted men, were sitting together in the upper chamber on the day of Pentecost. To render them susceptible to the inflowing of the Holy Spirit they must be aroused by a noise and fire. It must seem as tho a violent thunder-storm had burst upon the city; flashes of lightning and peals of thunder were seen and heard. And when the multitude were startled and terrified, then the desired condition for receiving the Holy Spirit prevailed and the outpouring took place. Such extravagances only hurt the tender sense of the children of God; while it is almost sacrilege to compare the signs of Pentecost to the report of a pistol.

Hence there remains only one other explanation, i.e., to consider the Pentecost signs as actual and real constituents of the event; indispensable links in the chain of occurrences.

When a ship enters the harbor we see the foaming spray under the bow and hear the waters dashing against the sides. When, a horse runs through the street we hear the noise of his hoofs against the pavement and see the clouds of dust. But who will say that these things seen and heard are symbolic? They necessarily belong to those actions and are parts of them, impossible without them. Therefore we do not believe that the Pentecost signs were symbolic, or intended to create a sensation, but that they belonged inseparably to the outpouring of the Holy Ghost, and were caused by it. The outpouring could not take place without creating these signs. When the mountain-stream dashes down the steep sides of the rocks we must hear the sound of rushing waters, we must see the flying spray; so when the Holy Spirit flows down from the mountains of God’s holiness, the sound of a rushing, mighty wind must be heard, and glorious brightness must be seen, and a speaking with foreign tongues must follow.

This will sufficiently explain our meaning. Not that we deny that these signs had also a significance for the multitude. The noise of the horse’s hoofs warns travelers on the road. And we concede that the purpose of the signs was realized in the perplexity and consternation which they caused in the hearts of those present. But this we maintain, that even in the absence of the multitude and their consternation the sound of a rushing, mighty wind would have been heard and the fiery tongues would have been seen. As the horse’s hoofs cause the ground to vibrate tho there be no traveler in sight, so the Holy Spirit could not come down without that sound and that brightness, even tho not a single Jew were to be found in all Jerusalem.

The outpouring of the Holy Spirit was real, not apparent. Having found His temple in the glorified Head, He must necessarily flow down into the body and descend from heaven. And this descent from heaven and this sowing into the body could not take place without causing these signs.

To penetrate more deeply into this matter is not lawful. On Horeb Elijah heard the Lord pass by in a gentle breeze, Isaiah heard the moving of the door-posts in the Temple. This seems to indicate that the approach of the divine majesty causes a commotion in the elements perceptible to the auditory nerve. But how, we can not tell. We observe, however:

First, that spirit can act upon matter is evident, for our spirits act upon the body every moment, and by that action are able to produce sounds. Speaking, crying, singing are nothing but our spirit acting upon the currents of air. And if our spirit is capable of such action, why not the Spirit of the Lord? Why, then, call it mysterious when the Holy Spirit in His descent so wrought upon the elements that the effects vibrated in the ears of those present?

Secondly, in making the covenant with Israel upon Sinai, the Lord God spoke in peals of thunder so terrible that even Moses said, “I am exceedingly fearful and quaking”; yet not with the intention of terrifying the people, but because a holy and angry God can not speak otherwise to a sinful generation. It is not therefore surprising that the coming of God to His New Covenant people is attended by similar signs, not in order to draw men’s attention, but because it could not be otherwise.

The same applies to the tongues of fire. Supernatural manifestations are always attended by light and brightness, especially when the Lord Jehovah or His angel appears. Recall, e.g., God’s covenant-making with Abraham, or the occurrences at the burning bush. Why, then, should it surprise us that the descent of the Holy Spirit was attended by phenomena such as those seen by Elijah on Horeb, Moses in the bush, St. Paul on the way to Damascus, and St. John on Patmos? That the cloven tongues sat upon each of them proves nothing to the contrary; for He proceeded to each of them and entered their hearts, and in each going He left a trace of light behind.

The question, whether the fire seen by these men on those occasions belonged to a higher sphere, or was the effect of God’s action upon the elements of the earth, can not be answered.

Both views have much in their favor. There is no darkness in heaven; and the heavenly light must be of a higher nature than ours, even above the brightness of the sun, according to St. Paul’s description of the light on the way to Damascus. It is very probable, therefore, that in these great events the boundary of heaven overlapped the earth, and a higher glory shone in upon our atmosphere.

But, on the other hand, it is possible that the Holy Spirit wrought this mysterious brightness directly by a miracle. And this seems to be confirmed by the fact that the signs attending the law-giving on Sinai, which event was parallel to this, were not from higher spheres, but wrought from earthly elements.

Finally, let it be noticed, that the outpouring of the Holy Spirit on the house of Cornelius and on the disciples of Apollos was attended by a speaking with other tongues, but not by the other signs. This confirms our theory; for it was not a coming to the house of Cornelius, but a conducting of the Holy Spirit into another part of the body of Christ. If symbolism had been intended, the signs would have been repeated; not being symbols, they did not appear.

XXVIII.

The Miracle of Tongues.

“If any man speak in an (unknown) tongue, . . . let one interpret. But if there be no interpreter, let him speak to himself, and to God.”— 1 Cor. xiv. 27, 28.

The third sign following the outpouring of the Holy Spirit consisted in extraordinary sounds that proceeded from the lips of the apostles—sounds foreign to the Aramaic tongue, never before heard from their lips.

These sounds affected the multitude in different ways: some called them babblings of inebriated men; others heard in them the great works of God proclaimed. To the latter, it seemed as tho they heard them speaking in their own tongues. To the Parthian it sounded like the Parthian, to the Arabian like the Arabic, etc.; while St. Peter declared that this sign belonged to the realm of revelation, for it was the fulfilment of the prophecy of Joel that all the people should become partakers of the operation of the Holy Spirit.

The question how to interpret this wonderful sign has occupied the thinking minds of all times. Allow us to offer a solution, which we present in the following observations:

In the first place—This phenomenon of spiritual speaking in extraordinary sounds is not confined to Pentecost nor to the second chapter of the Acts.

On the contrary, the Lord told His disciples, even before the ascension, that they should speak with new tongues—Mark xvi. 8. And from the epistles of St. Paul it is evident that this prophecy did not refer to Pentecost alone; for we read in 1 Cor. xii. 10 that in the apostolic Church, spiritual gifts included that of tongues; that some spoke in γενη γλωττῶύ, i.e., in kinds of tongues or sounds. In ver. 28 the apostle declares that God has set this spiritual phenomenon in the Church. It is noteworthy that in 1 Cor. xiv. 1-33 the apostle gives special attention to this extraordinary sign, showing that then it was quite ordinary. That the gift of tongues mentioned by St. Paul and the sign of which St. Luke speaks in Acts ii., are substantially one and the same can not be doubted. In the first place; Christ’s prophecy is general: “They shall speak with new tongues.” Secondly, both phenomena are said to have made irresistible impressions upon unbelievers. Thirdly, both are treated as spiritual gifts. And lastly, to both is applied the same name.

Yet there was a very perceptible difference between the two: the miracle of tongues on the day of Pentecost was intelligible to a large number of hearers of different nationalities; while in the apostolic churches it was understood only by a few who were called interpreters. Connected with this is the fact that the miracle on Pentecost made the impression of speaking at once to different hearers in different tongues so that they were edified. However, this is no fundamental difference. Altho in the apostolic churches there were but few interpreters, yet there were some who understood the wonderful speech.

There was, moreover, a marked difference between the men thus endowed: some understood what they were saying; others did not. For St. Paul admonishes them, saying: “Let him that speaketh in an unknown tongue, pray that he may interpret” (1 Cor. xiv. 13). Yet even without this ability, the speaking with tongues had an edifying effect upon the speaker himself; but it was an edification not understood, the effect of an unknown operation in the soul.

From this we gather that the miracle of tongues consisted in the uttering of extraordinary sounds which from existing data could be explained neither by the speaker nor by the hearer; and to which another grace was sometimes added, viz., that of interpretation. Hence three things were possible: that the speaker alone understood what he said; or, that others understood it and not himself; or, that both speaker and hearers understood it. This understanding has reference to one or more persons.

On the ground of this we comprise these miracles of tongues in one class; with this distinction, however, that on the day of Pentecost the miracle appeared perfect, but later on incomplete. As there is in the miracles of Christ in raising the dead a perceptible increase of power: first, the raising up of one just dead (the daughter of Jairus), then, of one about to be buried (the young man of Nam), and lastly, of one already decomposing (Lazarus); so there is also in the miracle of tongues a difference of power—not increasing, but decreasing. The mightiest operation of the Holy Spirit is seen first, then those less powerful. It is precisely the same as in our own heart: first, the mighty fact of regeneration; after that, the less marked manifestations of spiritual power. Hence on Pentecost there was the miracle of tongues in its perfection; later on in the churches, in weaker measure.

Secondly—There is no evidence that the miracle of tongues consisted in the speaking of one of the known languages not previously acquired.

If this had been the case, St. Paul could not have said: “If I pray in an unknown tongue, my spirit prayeth, but my understanding is unfruitful” (1 Cor. xiv. 14). The word “unknown” appears in italics, not being found in the Greek. Moreover, he says that tongues are for a sign not to them that believe, but to them that believe not—ver. 22. If it had been a question of foreign but ordinary languages, the matter of understanding them could not depend upon faith, but simply upon the fact whether the language was acquired by study or was one’s native tongue.

Finally, the notion that these tongues refer to foreign languages not acquired by study is contradicted by St. Paul: “I thank my God that I speak with tongues more than ye all.” By which he can not mean that he had mastered more languages than others, but that he possessed the gift of tongues in greater degree than other men. The following verse is evidence: “Yet in the Church I had rather speak five words with my understanding, that I may teach others also, than ten thousand words in an (unknown) tongue.” According to the other view, this ought to have been: “I wish to speak in one language, so that the Church may understand me, rather than in ten or twenty languages which the Church understands not.” But the apostle does not say this. He speaks not of many languages in opposition to one, but of five sounds or words against ten thousand words. From this it follows that St. Paul’s “I speak with glottai (languages or sounds) more than ye all,” must refer to the miracle of sounds.

For altho it is objected very naturally that on Pentecost the apostles spoke the Arabic, Hebrew, and Parthian tongues besides many others, yet the fact appealed to is not proven to be a fact. Surely we learn from Acts ii. that these Parthians, Elamites, etc., received the impression that they were addressed each in his own tongue; yet the narrative itself proves rather the contrary. Let the experiment be tried. Let fifteen men (the number of languages mentioned in Acts ii.) speak in fifteen different languages at once and together, and the result will be not that every one hears his own language, but that no one can hear anything. But the narrative of Acts ii. is fully explained in that the apostles uttered sounds intelligible to Parthians, Medes, Cretans, etc., because they understood them, receiving the impression that these sounds agreed with their own mother-tongues. As a Dutch child seeing a problem on the blackboard worked out by an English or German child naturally receives the impression that it was done by a Dutch child, simply because figures are signs not affected by the difference of language, so must the Elamite have received the impression that he heard the Elamitian, and the Egyptian that he was addressed in the Egyptian tongue, when on Pentecost they heard sounds uttered by a miracle, which, being independent from the difference of language, were intelligible to man as man.

We must not forget that speaking is nothing else than to produce impressions upon the soul of the hearer by means of vibrations in the air. But if the same impressions can be produced without the aid of air-vibrations, the effect upon the hearer must be the same. Try the experiment upon the eye. The sight of twinkling stars or dissolving figures excites the retina. The same effect can be produced by rubbing the eye with the finger when reclining on a couch in a dark room. And this applies here. The air vibrations are not the principal thing, but the emotion produced in the mind by the speaking. The Pamphylian, accustomed to receive emotions by hearing his mother-tongue, and receiving the same impression in another way, must think that he is addressed in the Pamphylian tongue.

Thirdly—According to St. Paul’s interesting information, the miracle of tongues consisted in this, that the vocal organs produced sounds not by a working of the mind, but by an operation of the Holy Spirit upon those organs.

St. Luke writes: “They began to speak with other tongues, as the Spirit gave them utterance” (Acts ii. 4); and St. Paul proves exhaustively that the person speaking with tongues spoke not with his understanding, i.e., as a result of his own thinking, but in consequence of an entirely different operation. That this is possible, we see, first, in delirious persons, who say things outside of their own personal thinking; second, in the insane, whose incoherent talk has no sense; third, in persons possessed, whose vocal organs are used by demons; fourth, in Balaam, whose vocal organs uttered words of blessing upon Israel against his will.

Hence it must be conceded that in man three things are possible:

First, that for a time he maybe deprived of the use of his vocal organs.

Second, that the use of these organs may be appropriated by a spirit who has overcome him.

Third, that the Holy Spirit, appropriating his vocal organs, can produce sounds from his lips which are “new,” and “other” than the language which ordinarily he speaks.

Fourthly—In the Greek these sounds invariably are designated by the word ãëùôôáé, i.e., tongues, hence language. In the Greek world, from which this word is taken, the word “glotta” always stands in strong opposition to the “logos,” reason.

A man’s thinking is the hidden, invisible, imperceptible process of his mind. Thought has a soul, but no body. But when the thought manifests itself and adopts a body, then there is a word. And the tongue being the movable organ of speech, it was said that the tongue gives a body to the thought. Hence the contrast between the logos, i.e., that which a man thinks with the mind, and the glotta, i.e., that which he utters with the vocal organs.

Ordinarily the glotta comes only through and after the logos. But in the miracle of tongues we discover the extraordinary phenomenon that while the logos remained inactive, the glotta uttered sounds. And since it was a phenomenon of sounds which proceeded not from the thinking mind, but from the tongue, the Holy Scripture calls it very appropriately a gift of the glottai, i.e., a gift of tongue or sound-phenomena.

Lastly—In answer to the question, How must this be understood? we offer the following representation: Speech in man is the result of his thinking; and this thinking in a sinless state is an in-shining of the Holy Spirit. Speech in a sinless state is therefore the result of inspiration, in-breathing of the Holy Spirit.

Hence in a sinless state man’s language would have been the pure and perfect product of an operation of the Holy Spirit. He is the Creator of human language; and without the injury and debasing influence of sin the connection between the Holy Ghost and our speech would have been complete. But sin has broken the connection. Human language is damaged: damaged by the weakening of the organs of speech; by the separation of tribes and nations; by the passions of the soul; by tie darkening of the understanding; and principally by the lie which has entered in. Hence that infinite distance between this pure and genuine human language which, as the direct operation of the Holy Spirit upon the human mind, should have manifested itself, and the empirically existing languages that now separate the nations—a difference like unto that between the glorious Adam and the deformed Hottentot.

But the difference is not intended to remain. Sin will disappear. What sin destroyed will be restored. In the day of the Lord, at the wedding-feast of the Lamb, all the redeemed will understand one another. In what way? By the restoration of the pure and original language upon the lips of the redeemed, which is born from the operation of the Holy Spirit upon the human mind. And of that great, still-tarrying event the Pentecost miracle is the germ and the beginning; hence it bore its distinctive marks. In the midst of the Babeldom of the nations, on the day of Pentecost, the one pure and mighty human language was revealed which one day all will speak, and all the brethren and sisters from all nations and tongues will understand.

And this was wrought by the Holy Spirit. They spake as the Holy Spirit gave them utterance. They spoke a heavenly language to praise God—not of angels, but a language above the influence of sin.

Hence the understanding of this language was also a work of the Holy Spirit. At Jerusalem, only they understood it who were specially wrought upon by the Holy Spirit. The others understood it not. And at Corinth it was not comprehended by the masses, but by him alone to whom it was given of the Holy Ghost.

In fact, the apostolic Word comes to the soul to-day as the testimony of what they have seen and heard and handled of the Word of Life. By virtue of this testimony souls are inwardly wrought upon, and by their being incorporated into the body of Christ they become manifest. And this fellowship becomes manifest as a fellowship with the very body of which the apostles are the leaders, in whose persons and in the persons of whose associates the Holy Spirit was poured out on the day of Pentecost.

We know that this view, or this confession rather, is in direct opposition to the view of Methodism,

See section 5 in the Preface.—Trans.

This error can not be overcome, except the Word of God become again our Teacher and we its docile scholars. And then we shall learn—

(1) Not that a few isolated persons are being rescued from the floods of iniquity, but that a body will be redeemed.

(2) That all that are to be saved will be incorporated into that body.

(3) That this body has Christ as its Head and the apostles as its permanent leaders.

(4) That on Pentecost the Holy Spirit was poured out into that body.

(5) That even now each of us experiences the gracious operations of the Holy Spirit only through fellowship with this body.

Only when these things are clear to the soul, the glorious word of Christ, “Father, I pray not for these alone, but for them also which shall believe on Me through their word,” will be well understood. Taken in the current sense, this word has not the least comfort for us; for then the Lord has prayed only for these then living, who had the privilege of personally hearing the apostles, and who were converted by their verbal testimony. We are entirely excluded. But if this petition be taken in the sense indicated above, as tho Christ would say, “I pray not for My apostles alone, but also for them who through their testimony shall believe on Me, now and in all ages and lands and nations,” then it acquires widest scope, and contains a prayer for every child of God called even now and from our own households.

This unique significance of the apostolate is so deeply embedded in the heart of the Kingdom, that when in the Revelation of St. John we get a glimpse of the New Jerusalem, we see that the city has twelve foundations, and on them the names of the twelve apostles of the Lamb—Rev. xxi. 14. Hence their significance is not transient and temporary, but permanent and including the whole Church. And when its warfare shall be ended and the glory of the New Jerusalem shall be revealed, even then, in its heavenly bliss, the Church shall rest upon the very foundation on which it was built here, and therefore bear, engraven on its twelve foundations, the names of the holy apostles of the Lord.

The apostle Paul considers the apostolate so glorious and exalted that in his Epistle to the Hebrews he applies the name of Apostle to the Lord Jesus Christ. “Wherefore, holy brethren, partakers of the heavenly calling, consider the Apostle and High Priest of our profession, Christ Jesus.” The meaning is perfectly clear. Properly speaking, it is Christ Himself calling and testifying in His Church. But as the white ray of light divides itself into many colors, so does Christ impart Himself to His twelve apostles, whom He has set as the instruments through whom He has fellowship with His Church. Hence the apostles stand not each by himself, but together they constitute the apostolate, the unity of which is found not in St. Peter nor in St. Paul, but in Christ. If we should wish to comprehend the whole apostolate in one, it must be He in whom is contained the fulness of the twelve—the Apostle and High Priest of our profession, Christ the Lord.

Not until we fully grasp these thoughts and live in them shall we be able to understand the epistles of St. Paul, and appreciate his spiritual conflict to maintain the honor of the apostolate for his divine mission. Especially in his epistles to the Corinthians and Galatians he sustains this conflict bravely and effectually; but in such a way that the Methodist can not have eye or ear for it. He rather feels like deploring the apostle’s zeal, saying: “If Paul had insisted less on his title and more humbly applied himself to the conversion of souls, his memory would have been much more precious.” And from his standpoint he is quite right. If the apostolate has no higher significance than to be the first teachers and ministers of the Church, then there can be no reason why St. Paul should waste his strength contending for a meaningless title.

But the undeniable fact that St. Paul’s energetic contending agrees not with the current opinions of the present time ought to make us oppose the notion that, since his contention does not comport with our opinions, he must be wrong! and acknowledge that the standpoint which we can not occupy without condemning the apostle must be abandoned—the sooner the better. St. Paul must not conform himself to our opinions, but our opinions must be modified or altered according to St. Paul’s.

XXX.

The Apostolic Scriptures.

“And I think that I also have the Spirit of God.”—1 Cor. vii. 40.

We have seen that the apostolate has an extraordinary significance and occupies a unique position. This position is twofold, viz., temporary, with reference to the founding of the first churches, and permanent, with regard to the churches of all ages.

The first must necessarily be temporary, for what was then accomplished can not be repeated. A tree can be planted only once; an organism can be born only once; the planting or founding of the Church could take place only once. However, this founding was not unprepared for. On the contrary, God has had a Church in the world from the beginning. That Church was even a world-Church. But it went down in idolatry; and only a small Church remained among an almost unknown people—the Church in Israel. When this particular Church was to become again a world-Church, two things were required:

First, that the Church in Israel lay aside its national dress.

Secondly, that in the midst of the heathen world the Church of Christ appear, so that the two might become manifest as the one Christian Church.

By these two things the apostolic labor is almost exhausted. In St. Paul the two are united. No apostle labored more zealously to divest the Church of Israel of its Jewish attire, and no one was more abundant in the planting of new churches in all parts of the world.

The apostolate had, however, a much more extensive and higher calling, not only for those days, but also for the Church of the ages. It was the task of the apostles for which they were, ordained: by giving to the churches fixed forms of government to determine their character; and by the written documentation of the revelation of Christ Jesus to secure to them purity and perpetuity.

This is evident from the character of their labors: for they not only founded churches, but also gave them ordinances. St. Paul writes to the Corinthians: “As I have given order to the churches of Galatia, even so do ye” (1 Cor. xvi. 1). Hence they were conscious of possessing power, of being clothed with authority: “And so ordain I in all the churches,” says the same apostle (1 Cor. vii. 17). This ordaining is not like that of our official church boards which have power to make rules; or as a minister in the name of the consistory announces from the pulpit certain regulations. Nay, the apostles exercised authority by virtue of a power they consciously possessed in themselves, independent of any church or church council. For St. Paul writes, after having given ordinances in the matter of marriages: “And I think that I also have the Spirit of God.” (1 Cor. vii. 40) Hence the power and authority to command, to ordain and to judge in the churches, they derived not from the Church, nor from church council, nor from the apostolate, but directly from the Holy Spirit. This is true even of the power to judge; for, concerning an incestuous person in the church of Corinth, St. Paul judged that he should be delivered to Satan; the execution of which sentence he left to the elders of that church, but upon which he had determined by virtue of his apostolic authority—1 Cor. v. 3.

In this connection it is remarkable that St. Paul was conscious of a twofold current running through his word: (1) that of tradition, touching the things ordained by the Lord Jesus during His ministry; and (2) that of the Holy Spirit, touching the things to be decided by the apostolate. For he writes: “Now concerning virgins, I have no commandment of the Lord; yet I give my judgment as one that hath obtained mercy of the Lord to be faithful” (1 Cor. vii. 25). And again he saith: “Unto the married I command, yet not I, but the Lord, Let not the wife depart from her husband” (ver. 10). And in verse 12 he saith: “But to the rest speak I, not the Lord.” Many have received the impression that St. Paul meant to say: “What the Lord commanded, you must keep; but the things by me enjoined are of less account and not binding”;—a view destroying the authority of the apostolic word, and therefore to be rejected. The apostle has not the least intention of undermining his own authority; for having delivered the message, he adds expressly: "And I think that I also have the Spirit of God”; (1 Cor. vii. 40) which, in connection with the commandment of the Lord, can not mean anything else than this: “That which I have enjoined rests upon the same authority as the Lord’s own words”;—a declaration which was already contained in the word: “I have received mercy to be faithful,” i.e., in my work of regulating the churches.

By these ordinances and regulations the apostles not only gave to the churches of those days a fixed form of life, but they also prepared the channel that was to determine the future course of the life of the Church. They did this in two ways:

First, partly by the impressions they made upon the life of the churches, and which were never wholly obliterated.

Secondly, partly also and more particularly by leaving us in writing the image of that Church, and by sealing the principal features of these ordinances in their apostolic epistles.

Both these influences, that directly on the life of the churches, and that of the apostolic Scriptures, have taken care that the image of the Church should not be lost, and that, where it was in danger of such loss, by the grace of God it should be fully restored.

This leads us to consider the second activity of the apostles, whereby they operated upon the Church of all ages, viz., the in heritance of their writings.

Our writings are the richest and maturest products of the mind; and the mind of the Holy Spirit received its richest, fullest, and most perfect expression when His meaning was put into documental form. The literary labor of the apostles deserves, therefore, careful attention.

When the apostles Peter and Paul preached the Gospel, healed the sick, judged the unruly, and founded churches, giving them ordinances, they performed in each of these a great and glorious work. And yet the significance of St. Paul’s labor when he wrote, e.g., the Epistle to the Romans so far surpassed the value of preaching and healing that the two can not be compared. When he wrote that one little book, which in ordinary pamphlet form would make no more than three sheets of printed matter, he performed the greatest work of his life. From this little book the most far-reaching influences have gone forth. By this one little book St. Paul became a historic person.

We know, indeed, that many of our present theologians reverse this order, and say: “These apostles were profoundly spiritual men; they lived near the Lord and had entered deeply into the mind of Christ; they labored and preached and occasionally wrote a few letters, some of which have come down to us; yet this letter-writing was of little significance to their persons”; but against this whole representation we protest with all our might. Nay, these men were not such excellent personalities that the few occasional letters from their hands could scarcely have any significance in their lives. On the contrary, their epistolary labor was the most important of all their lifework; small in compass, but rich in content; apparently of less, but by virtue of its comprehensive and far-reaching influence of much higher significance. And since the apostles may not be considered half-idiots, knowing scarcely anything of the future of the Church, and without any realization of what they were doing, we maintain that a man like St. Paul, having finished his Epistle to the Romans, was indeed conscious of the fact that this work would occupy a prominent place among his apostolic labors.

Even tho it be granted that the apostle was unconscious of it, yet this alters not the fact. To-day, when the churches founded eighteen centuries ago have all past away, and the church of Rome can scarcely be recognized; when the people who by his wonderful power were healed or saved have all crumbled to dust, and not a single memory remains of all his other toil; to-day his epistolary inheritance still governs the Church of Christ.

We can not conceive what the condition of the Church would be without St. Paul’s epistles; if we were to lose the inheritance of the great apostle that has come to us through our fathers. What is it that controls our confession, if not the truths developed by him; what is it that governs our lives, if not the ideals so highly exalted by him? We can safely say, with reference to our own Church, that without the Pauline epistles its whole form and appearance would be totally different.

This being so, we are also justified in saying that the objectifying of Christian truth in the apostolic epistles is the most important of all their labors. Instead of calling it a “dead-letter,” we confess that in it their activity reached its very zenith.

However, the peculiar work of the Holy Spirit in the apostolate being the subject of our present inquiry, and not the apostolate itself, we will consider now the serious question: What is the nature of this work?

Our choice lies between the theory of the mechanical, and that of the natural, process.

XXXI.

Apostolic Inspiration.

“When He, the Spirit of truth, is come, He will guide you into all truth.”—John xvi. 13.

What is the nature of the work of the Holy Spirit in the inspiration of the apostles?

Apart from the mechanical and natural theories, which are vulgar and profane, there are two others, viz., the Ethical and the Reformed.

According to the former the inspiration of the apostles differs from the animation of believers only in degree, not in nature. They represent the matter as tho, by the incarnation of the Word, a new sphere of life was created which they call the “God-human.” They that have received the life of this higher sphere are called believers; others are unbelievers. In these believers the consciousness is gradually changed, illuminated, and sanctified. Hence they see things in a different light, i.e., their eyes are opened so that they see much of the spiritual world of which unbelievers see nothing. However, this result is not the same in all believers. The more favored see more correctly and distinctly than the less favored. And the most excellent among them, who possess this God-human life most abundantly, and look into the things of the, Kingdom with greatest clearness and distinctness, are the men called apostles. Hence the inspiration of the apostles and the illumination of believers are in principle the same; differing only in degree.

The Reformed churches can not agree with this view. In their judgment the very effort to identify apostolic inspiration with the illumination of believers actually annihilates the former. They hold that the inspiration of the apostles was wholly unique in nature and kind, totally different from what the Scripture calls illumination of believers. The apostles possessed this latter gift even in its highest degree, and we heartily indorse all that the Ethical theologians say in this respect. But, when all is said, we hold that apostolic inspiration is not even touched upon; that it lies entirely outside of it; is not contained in, but added to, it; and that the Church must reverence it as an extraordinary, peculiar, and unique work of the Holy Spirit, which was wrought exclusively in the holy apostles.

Hence both sides concede that the apostles were born again, that they had received illumination in a peculiarly high degree. But while the Ethical theorists maintain that this extraordinary illumination includes inspiration, the Reformed hold that illumination in its highest degree has nothing to do with inspiration; which was unique in its kind, without equal, given to the apostles alone; never to other believers.

The difference between the two views is obvious.

According to the Ethical view, the epistles are the writings of very worthy, godly, and sanctified men; the thoughtful utterances of highly enlightened believers. And yet, having said all this, they are after all only fallible; they may contain ninety per cent of truth, well expressed and accurately defined; but the possibility remains that the other ten per cent is full of errors and mistakes Even tho there be one or more infallible epistles, how can this avail us, since we do not know it? In fact, we are without the least certainty in this matter. And for this reason it is actually conceded that the apostles have made mistakes.

Hence the Reformed churches can not accept this fascinating representation; and the conscience of believers will always protest against it. What we expect in “holy apostles” is this very certainty, reliability, and decision. Reading their testimony, we want to rely upon it. This certainty alone has been the strength of the Church of all ages. This conviction alone has given her rest. And the Church of to-day feels as instinctively that the reliability of the Word that is its Bible is being taken away from it, inasmuch as, these beautifully sounding theories strip the apostolic word of its infallibility.

The holy apostles appear in their writings as such, and not otherwise. St. John, the most beloved among the twelve, testifies that the Lord Jesus gave them as apostles a rare promise, saying, “He shall guide you into all truth,” (John xvi. 13) a word that may not be applied to others, but to the apostles exclusively. And again: "The Comforter which is the Holy Ghost shall teach you all things, and bring to your remembrance all things whatsoever I have said unto you." (John xiv. 26); which promise was not intended for all, but for the apostles only, securing them a gift evidently distinct from illumination. In fact, this promise was nothing else than the permanent endowment with the gift received only temporarily when they went forth on their first mission among Israel: "For it is, not you that speak, but the Spirit of your Father which speaketh in you." (Matt. x. 20)

Moreover, the Lord Jesus did not only promise them that the word proceeding from their mouth would be a word of the Holy Spirit, but He granted them such personal power and authority that it would be as tho God Himself spoke through them. St. Paul testified of this to the church of Thessalonica, saying: "For this cause we thank God that ye received it not as the word of men, but, as it is in truth, the Word of God" (1 Thess. ii. 13). And St. John tells us that, both before and after the resurrection, the Lord Jesus gave His disciples power to bind on earth in the sense that their word would have binding power forever: "Whosesoever sins ye remit, they are remitted unto them; and whosesoever sins ye retain, they are retained"; — (John xx. 23) words that are horrible and untenable except they be understood as implying perfect agreement between the minds of the apostles and the mind of God. Of similar import are the words of Christ to Peter: "Whatsoever thou shalt bind on earth shall be bound in heaven; and whatsoever thou shalt loose on earth shall be loosed in heaven." (Matt. xvi. 19)

However, reading and pondering these remarkable and weighty words, let us be careful not to fall into the error of Rome, or, in order to escape from this, make the Word of God of no effect, which is equally dangerous. For the Church of Rome applies these words of Jesus to His disciples, to the whole Church as an institution; especially the word to Peter, making it to refer to all Peter’s successors (so-called) in the government of the Church of Rome. If that be indeed the meaning of these words, then Rome is perfectly right; then to the Pope is granted power to bind, and the priests of Rome have still the power to absolve. Our reason for denying that Rome has this power is not the impossibility for men to have it, for it was given to the apostles; Peter was infallible in his sentences ex cathedra, and the apostles could grant absolution. But we deny that Rome has the slightest authority to confer this power of Peter upon the Pope, or that of the apostles upon its priests. Neither Matt. xvi. 19 nor John xx. 23 contains the least proof for such claim. And inasmuch as no man has the liberty to exercise such extraordinary power except he can show the credential’s of his mission, so we deny Rome’s qualifications to exercise it in pope or priest, not because this is impossible, but because Rome can not substantiate its claims.

At the same time, let us, in our contending with Rome, not fall into the opposite error of disparaging the plain and clear meaning of the word. This is done by the Ethical theologians; for the words of Jesus referred to do not receive justice so long as we refuse to recognize in the apostles a working of the Holy Spirit entirely peculiar, unique, and extraordinary. We dilute the words of Jesus and violate their sense so long as we do not acknowledge that, if the apostles were still living, they would have the power to forgive us our sins; and that Peter, if he were still living, would have power and authority to issue ordinances binding upon the whole Church. The words are so plain, the qualification was granted in such definite terms, that it can not be denied that John could forgive sin, and that Peter had power to issue an infallible decree. The Lord said to the disciples: "Whosesoever sins ye remit, they are remitted unto them" (John xx. 23); and to Peter: "Whatsoever thou shalt bind on earth shall be bound in heaven." (Matt. xvi. 19)

Thus acknowledging the unique position and extraordinary power of the apostles, we immediately add that this power was granted to them alone and to no one else.

We emphasize this in opposition to Rome and to those who apply the words of Christ, spoken to His disciples exclusively, to ministers and other believers. Neither Rome nor the Ethical theologians have the right to do this, unless they can show that the Lord Jesus gave them such right. But they never can. Care should be taken, therefore, in the choice of texts, proofs, and quotations from the Scripture, to ascertain not only what is said, but also to whom it was said. And thus the error concerning the apostolate will soon be overcome; and believers will see that the apostles occupy a different position from other Christians, that the promises quoted bear an exceptional character, and that the Word of the Lord is misunderstood when inspiration is confounded with illumination.

XXXII.

Apostles To-Day?

"Am I not an apostle? am I not free? have I not seen Jesus Christ our Lord? are ye not my work in the Lord?"—1 Cor. ix. 1.

We may not take leave of the apostolate without a last look at the circle of its members. It is a closed circle; and every effort to reopen it tends to efface a characteristic of the New Covenant.

And yet the effort is being made again and again. We see it in Rome’s apostolic succession; in the Ethical view gradually effacing the boundary-line between the apostles and believers; and in its boldest and most concrete form among the Irvingites.

The Irvingites are known in England and America as the Catholic Apostolic Church.—Trans.

The latter assert not only that the Lord gave to His Church a college of apostles in the beginning, but that He has now called a body of apostles in His Church to prepare His people for the coming.

However, this position can not be very successfully supported. Neither in the discourses of Christ, nor in the epistles of the apostles, nor in the Apocalypse, do we find the least intimation of such an event. The end of all things is repeatedly spoken of. The New Testament frequently rehearses the events and signs that must precede the Lord’s return. They are recorded so minutely that some even say that the exact date can be fixed. And yet, among all these prophecies, we fail to discover the slightest sign of a subsequent apostolate. In the panorama of the things to come there is literally no room for it.

Nor have the results realized the expectations of these brethren. Their apostolate has been a great disappointment. It has accomplished almost nothing. It has come and gone without leaving a trace. We do not deny that some of these men have done wonderful things; but be it noticed, in the first place, that the signs wrought were far below those performed by the apostles; second, that a man like Pastor Blumhardt has also wrought signs that greatly deserve to be noticed; third, that the Roman Catholic Church sometimes offers signs that are not pretended nor artificial; lastly, that the Lord has warned us in His Word that signs shall be wrought by men who are not His own.

Moreover, let us not forget that the apostles of the Irvingites completely lack the marks of the apostolate. These were: (1) a call directly from the King of the Church; (2) a peculiar qualification of the Holy Spirit making them infallible in the service of the Church. These men lack both marks. They tell us, indeed, of a call come to them by the mouth of prophets, but this is to little or no purpose, for a call from a prophet is not equal to one directly from Christ, and again the name "prophet" is exceedingly misleading. The word prophet has, on the sacred page, a wide application, and occurs in both a limited and a general sense. The former involves the revelation of a knowledge that mere illumination does not afford; while the latter applies to men speaking in holy ecstasy to the praise of God. We concede that prophesying, in the general sense, is an enduring charisma of the Church; for which reason the reformers of the sixteenth century attempted to revive this office. If the Irvingites, therefore, believe that in their circles the prophetic activity has been revived, we will not dispute it; altho we can not say that the reports of their prophesying have had a very overwhelming effect upon us. However, let it be granted that the gift has been restored; but even then we ask: What do you gain by it? For there is not the slightest proof that these prophets and prophetesses are like their predecessors in the Old Testament. The unrevealed will of God has not been revealed to them. If prophets at all, then their prophesying is merely a speaking to the praise of God in a state of spiritual ecstasy.

The uselessness of an appeal to such prophets for the support of this new apostolate is evident. It is merely the effort to support an unsupported apostolate by an equally unsupported prophetism.

Nor should it be forgotten that the labors of these so-called apostles have not carried out their own program. They have failed to exert any perceptible influence upon the course of events. The institutions founded by them have in no respect surpassed the many new church organizations witnessed by this century. They have established no new principle; their labors have manifested no new power. Whatever they have done lacks the stamp of a heavenly origin. And nearly all these new apostles have died not like the genuine twelve on cross or stake, but on their own beds surrounded by their friends and admirers.

However, this is not all. The name of apostle may be taken (1) in the sense of being called directly by Jesus as an ambassador for. God, or (2) in a general sense, denoting every man sent by Jesus into His vineyard; for the word apostle means one that is sent. In Acts xiv. 14 Barnabas is called an apostle: not because he belonged to their number, but merely to indicate that he was sent out by the Lord as His missionary or ambassador. In Acts xiii. 1, 2 Barnabas is mentioned before Saul, who is not even called by his apostolic name; which shows that this call of the Holy Spirit bore only a temporary character, having in view only this special mission. For this reason the Lord Jesus Christ, as the One sent of the Father, the great Missionary come to this world, the Ambassador of God to His Church, is celled Apostle: "Wherefore, holy brethren, . . . consider the Apostle and High Priest of our confession, Christ Jesus" (Heb. iii. 1).

If the Irvingites had called the great reformers of the sixteenth century, or some prominent churchleaders of the present time, apostles, there could have been no great objection. But they did not mean this. They claim that these new apostles shall stand before the Church in a peculiar character, on the same plane with the first apostles, altho differently employed. And this can not be conceded. It would be in direct opposition to the apostolic declaration of 1 Cor. iv. 9: "For I think that God hath set us forth as the last apostles, as it were appointed unto death" (see Dutch translation). How could St. Paul speak of the last apostles, if it were God's plan after eighteen centuries to send other twelve apostles into the world?

In view of this positive word of the Holy Spirit, we direct all those that come into contact with the Irvingites to what the Scripture says concerning them that call themselves apostles, and are not: "For such men are false apostles, deceitful workers, fashioning themselves into apostles of Christ." And the Lord Jesus testifies to the church at Ephesus: "I know that thou halt tried them which say they are apostles and are not."

XXXIV.

The Need of the New Testament Scripture.

"For I testify onto every man that heareth the words of the prophecy of this book, If any man shall add unto these things, God shall add unto him the plagues that are written in this book."—Rev. xxii. 18.

If the Church after the Ascension of Christ had been destined to live only one lifetime, and had been confined only to the land of the Jews, the holy apostles could have accomplished their task by verbal teaching. But since it was to live at least for eighteen centuries, and to be extended over the whole world, the apostles were compelled to resort to the written communication of the revelation which they had received.

If they had not written, the churches of Africa and Gaul could never have received trustworthy information; and the tradition would have lost its reliable character ages ago. The written revelation has, therefore, been the indispensable means whereby the Church, during its long and ever-extending career, has been preserved from complete degeneration and falsification.

However, from their epistles it does not appear that the apostles clearly understood this. Surely, that the Church would sojourn in this world for eighteen centuries, they did not expect; and almost all their epistles bear a local character, as tho not intended for the Church in general, but only for particular churches. And yet, altho they understood it not, the Lord Jesus knew it; He had thus planned it; hence the epistle written exclusively for the church of Rome was intended and ordained by Him, and without Paul's knowledge, to edify the Church of all ages.

Hence two things had to be done for the Church of the future:

First, the image of Christ must be received from the lips of the apostles and be committed to writing.

Secondly, the things of which Jesus had said, "Ye can not bear them now, but the Holy Spirit will declare them unto you," must be recorded. This is the postulate of the whole matter. The condition of the churches, their long duration in the future, and their world-wide extension demanded it.

And the facts show that the provision was made; but not immediately. So long as the Church was confined to a small circle, and the remembrance of Christ remained fresh and powerful, the apostles' spoken word was sufficient. The decree of the Synod of Jerusalem was probably the first written document that proceeded from them. But when the churches began to extend across the sea to Corinth and Rome, and northward to Ephesus and Galatia, then Paul began to substitute written for verbal instructions. Gradually this epistolary labor was extended and Paul's example followed. Perhaps each wrote in turn. And to these epistles were added the narratives of the life, death, and Resurrection of Christ and the Acts of the Apostles. At last the King commanded John from heaven to write in a book the extraordinary revelation given him on Patmos.

The result was a gradually increasing number of apostolic and non-apostolic writings, probably far exceeding that contained in the New Testament. At least Paul's epistles show that he wrote many more than we now possess. But even if he had not thus informed us, the fact would have been sufficiently well established; for it is improbable that such excellent writers as Paul and John should not have written more than a dozen letters during their long and eventful lives. Even in one year they must have written more than that. The controversy of former days over the assertion that no apostolic writings could have been lost was most foolish, and showed little reckoning with real life.

It is remarkable that from this great mass a small number of writings was gradually separated. A few were collected first, then more were added, and arranged in certain order. It took a long time before there was uniformity and agreement; indeed, some writings were not universally recognized until after three centuries. But in spite of time and controversy, the sifting took place, and the result was, that the Church distinguished in this great mass of literature two distinct parts: on the one hand, this arranged set of twenty-seven books; and on the other, the remaining writings of early origin.

And when the process of sifting and separating was ended, and the Holy Spirit had borne witness, in the churches that this set of writings constituted a whole, and was, indeed, the Testament of the Lord Jesus to His Church, then the Church became conscious that it possessed a second collection of sacred books of equal authority with the first collection given to Israel; then it put the Old and the New Testament together, which unitedly form the Holy Scripture, our Bible, the Word of God.

To the question, How did the New Testament Scripture originate? we answer without hesitation, By the Holy Spirit.

How? Did He say to Paul or John: "Sit down and write"?

The gospels and the epistles do not so impress us. It does indeed apply to the Revelation of St. John, but not to the other New Testament Scriptures. They rather impress us as being written without the slightest idea of being intended for the Church of all ages. Their authors impress us as writing to certain churches of their own definite time, and that after a hundred years perhaps not a single fragment of their writings would be in existence. They were indeed conscious of the Holy Spirit's aid in writing the truth even as they enjoyed it in speaking; but that they were writing parts of the Holy Scripture, they surely knew not.

When St. Paul had finished his Epistle to the Romans, it never occurred to him that in future ages his letter would possess for millions of God's children an authority equal to, or even higher than that of the prophecies of Isaiah and the Psalms of David. Nor could the first readers of his epistle, in the church of Rome, have imagined that after eighteen centuries the names of their principal men would still be household words in all parts of the Christian world.

But if St. Paul knew it not, surely the Holy Spirit did. As by education the Lord frequently prepares a maiden for her still unknown, future husband, so did the Holy Spirit prepare Paul, John, and Peter for their work. He directed their lives, circumstances, and conditions; He caused such thoughts, meditations, and even words to arise in their hearts as the writing of the New Testament Scripture required. And while they were writing these portions of the Holy Scripture, that one day would be the treasure of the universal Church in all ages, a fact not understood by them, but by the Holy Spirit, He so directed their thoughts as to guard them against mistakes and lead them into all truth. He foreknew what the complete New Testament Scripture ought to be, and what parts would belong to it. As an architect, by his mechanics, prepares the various parts of the building, afterward to fit them in their places, so did the Holy Spirit by different workers prepare the different parts of the New Testament, which afterward He united in a whole.

For the Lord, who by His Holy Spirit caused the preparation of these parts, is also King of the Church; He saw these parts scattered abroad; He led men to care for them, and believers to have faith in them. And, finally, by means of the men interested, He united these loose fragments, so that gradually, according to His royal decree, the New Testament originated.

Hence it was not necessary that the New Testament Scripture should contain only apostolic writings. Mark and Luke were no apostles; and the notion that these men must have written under the direction of Paul or. Peter has no proof nor force. What is the benefit of writing under the direction of an apostle? That which gives divine authority to the writings of Luke is not the influence of an apostle, but that he wrote under the absolute inspiration of the Holy Spirit.

Believing in the authority of the New Testament, we must acknowledge the authority of the four evangelists to be perfectly equal. As to the contents, Matthew's gospel may surpass that of Luke, and John's may excel the gospel of Mark; but their authority is equally unquestionable. The Epistle to the Romans has higher value than that to Philemon; but their authority is the same. As to their persons, John stood above Mark, and Paul above Jude; but since we depend not upon the authority of their persons, but only upon that of the Holy Spirit, these personal differences are of no account.

Hence the question is not whether the New Testament writers were apostles, but whether they were inspired by the Holy Spirit.

Assuredly, it has pleased the King to connect His testimony with the apostolate; for He said: "Ye are My witnesses." Hence we know that Luke and Mark obtained their information concerning Christ from the apostles; but our guaranty for the accuracy and reliability of their statements is not the apostolic origin of the same, but the authority of the Holy Spirit. Hence the apostles are the channels through which the knowledge of these things flows to us from Christ; but whether this knowledge reaches us through their writings or through those of others makes no difference. The vital question is, whether the bearers of the apostolic tradition were infallibly inspired or not.

XXXV.

The Character of the New Testament Scripture.

"And these things write we unto you, that your joy may be full."—1 John i. 4.

From the two preceding articles it is evident that the New Testament Scripture was not intended to bear the character of a notarial document. If this had been the Lord’s intention we should have received something entirely different. It would have required a twofold legal evidence:

In the first place, the proof that the events narrated in the New Testament actually occurred as related.

Secondly, that the revelations received by the apostles are correctly communicated.

Both certifications should be furnished by witnesses, e.g., to prove the miracle of the feeding of the five thousand would require:

1. A declaration of a number of persons, stating that they were eye-witnesses of the miracle.

2. An authentic declaration of the magistrates of the surrounding places certifying to their signatures.

3. A declaration of competent persons to prove that these witnesses were known as honest and trustworthy people, disinterested and competent to judge. Moreover, it would be necessary by proper testimony to prove that, among the five thousand, there were only seven loaves and two fishes.

4. That the increase of bread took place while Jesus broke it.

In the presence of a number of such documents, each duly authenticated and sealed, persons not too skeptical might find it possible to believe that the event had occurred as narrated in the Gospel.

To prove this one miracle would require a number of documents as voluminous as the whole of St. Matthew. If it were possible thus to prove all the events recorded in the gospels and the Acts of the Apostles, then the credibility of these narratives would be properly established.

And even this would be far from satisfactory. For the difficulty would remain to prove that the epistles contain correct communications of the revelations received by the apostles. Such proof would be impossible. It would require eye- and ear-witnesses to these revelations; and a number of stenographers to report them. If this had been possible, then, we concede, there would have been, if not mathematical certainty for every expression, yet sufficient ground for accepting the general tenor of the epistles.

But when the apostles wrote them there was no audible voice. And when a voice was heard, it could not be understood, as in the base of Paul’s revelation on the way to Damascus. The same may be said of what occurred on Patmos: St. John actually heard a voice, but the hearing and the understanding of the words which it uttered required a peculiar, spiritual operation that was lacking in the people at the same time on the island.

The fact is, that the revelation of the Holy Spirit granted to the apostles was of such a nature that it could not be perceived by others. Hence the impossibility to prove its genuineness by notarial evidence. He that insists upon it ought to know that the Church can not furnish it, either for the historical narratives of the gospels, or for the spiritual contents of the epistles.

Hence it is evident that every effort to prove the truth of the contents of the New Testament by external evidence only condemns itself, and must result in the absolute rejection of the authority of the Holy Scripture. If a judge of the present day should condemn or acquit an accused person on the ground of the insignificant evidence which satisfies many honest people with reference to the Scripture, what a storm of indignation would it raise! The whole list of the so-called evidences as to the credibility of the New Testament writers, that they were competent to judge, willing to testify, disinterested, etc., proves nothing indeed.

Such externals may suffice when it concerns ordinary events, of which one might say: "I believe that it has really happened; I have no reason to doubt it; but if to-morrow it should prove not to be so, I will lose nothing by it." But how can such superficial methods be applied when it concerns the extraordinary events related by the Holy Scripture, upon the positive certainty of which my own and my children’s highest interests depend; so that, if they proved to be untrue, e.g., the report of the resurrection of Christ, we should suffer the priceless and irreparable loss of an eternal salvation?

This can not be; it is absolutely unthinkable. And experience proves that the efforts of foolish people to prop their faith by such proofs has always ended with the loss of all faith. Nay, such kind of proof is by its very insignificance either unworthy to be mentioned with reference to such serious matters, or, if it be worth anything, it can not be furnished, nor ought it to be.

Notarial or mathematical proof neither can nor may be furnished, because the character and nature of the contents of Scripture are inconsistent with or repellent to such demonstration.

No man may demand legal proofs for the fact that the man whom he loves and honors as father is his father indeed; God has made such proof impossible by the very nature of the case. The delicacy which ennobles all family life cuts off the very appearance of such investigation; and, if it were possible, the son, furnished with such proof, would ipso facto have lost his father and mother; they would be his parents no more; and beneath the pile of evidence his child-life would be buried.

The same principle applies to the Holy Scripture. The nature and character of the revelation has been so ordered that it allows no notarial demonstration. The revelation to the apostles is unthinkable, if other persons could have heard, recorded, and published it as well as they. It was an operation of holy energies; not intended to compel doubters to a mere outward faith, but simply to accomplish that for which God had sent it, without caring much for the contradiction of the skeptics. It concerns a work of God which legal or mathematical investigation can not fathom; which manifests itself upon the spiritual domain where certainty obtains not by outward demonstration, but by personal faith of the one in the other.

As faith in father and mother springs not from mathematical demonstration, but from the contact of love, the fellowship of life, and personal trust in each other, even so here. A life of love unfolded itself. The mercies of God came bending down to us in tender compassion. And every man touched by this divine life was affected by its influence, taken up by it, lived in it, felt himself in sympathetic fellowship with it; and, in a way imperceptible and not understood, obtained a certainty, far above any other, that he was in the presence of facts, and that they were divinely revealed.

The same expression is used invariably for the imparting of the Holy Spirit: "Ye shall receive the gift of the Holy Ghost" (Acts ii. 38). And: "Because that on the Gentiles also was poured out the gift of the Holy Ghost" (Acts x. 45). Hence it should be carefully noticed that this has nothing to do with the subject under consideration. When St. Paul speaks of faith as the gift of God, he refers to our salvation and God’s saving work in the soul. But the gifts of which we now speak are wholly different. They are not unto salvation, but to the glory of God. They are lent to us as ornaments, that we should show their beauty as talents to gain other talents therewith. They are additional operations of grace; which can not take the place of the proper work of the grace of salvation, nor confirm it, having an entirely different purpose. The work of grace is for our own salvation, joy, and upbuilding; the charismata are given us for others. The first implies that we have received the Holy Spirit; the latter that He imparts gifts unto us.

Properly speaking, the charismata are given to the churches, not to individual persons. When a ruler selects and trains men for officers in the army, it is evident that he does this not for their personal enjoyment, honor, and aggrandizement, but for the efficiency and honor of the army. He can search for men with talents for the military service, and train and instruct them; but he can not create such talents. If this were possible, every king would endow his generals with the genius of a Von Moltke, and every admiral would be a De Ruyter.

But Jesus is not thus limited. He is independent; unto Him all power is given in heaven and on earth. He can create talents, and freely impart them to whomsoever He will. Hence, knowing what the Church requires for its protection and upbuilding, He can fully supply all its need. His purpose is not merely to please or enrich individuals, much less to give to some what He withholds from others; but with the persons thus endowed to adorn and favor the whole Church. We do not put a lamp upon the table to show it a special favor or because it is more excellent than chair or stove; but simply because thus it serves its purpose, and the whole room is lighted. To consider the charismata as intended merely to adorn and benefit the person endowed would be just as absurd as to say: "I light the fire to warm not the room, but the stove"; and to be jealous of the charismata given to others in the Church would be just as foolish as for the table to be jealous of the stove because it gets all the fire.

The charismata must therefore be considered in an economical sense. The Church is a large household with many wants; an institution to be made efficient by the means of many things. They are to the Church what light and fuel are to the household; not existing for themselves, but for the family, and to be laid aside when the days are long and warm. This applies directly to the charismata, many of which, given to the apostolic Church, are not of service to the Church of the present day.

These charismata have undoubtedly more or less an official character. God has instituted offices in the Church; not in a mechanical way, or depending upon robe or gown; such unspiritual conception is foreign to the Scripture. But as there is division of labor in the army or in the human body, so there is in the Church.

Take, e.g., the body. It must be protected against injury; blood must be carried to muscles and nerves; venous blood must be converted into arterial; the lungs must inhale fresh air, etc. All these activities are laid upon the various members of the body. Eye and ear keep watch; the heart propels the blood; the lungs supply the oxygen, etc. And this can not be changed arbitrarily. The lungs can not watch; the eye can not supply oxygen; the skin can not propel the blood. Hence this division of labor is neither arbitrary, by mutual consent, nor, a matter of pleasure; but it is divinely ordained, and this ordinance must not be ignored. Hence the eye has the office and gift of watching over the body; the heart of circulating the blood; the lungs of supplying fresh air; etc.

And this applies to the Church in every respect. That great body requires the doing of many and various things for the common weal. There is need of guidance, of prophesying, of heroism; mercy must be exercised, the sick must be healed, etc. And this great mutual task the Lord has divided among many members. He has given to His body, the Church, eyes, ears, hands, and feet; and each of these organic members a peculiar task, calling, and office.

Hence to be called to an office simply means to be charged by Jesus, the King, with a definite task. You have done some work. Very well, but how? From impulse, or in obedience to the charge of your Sender? This makes all the difference. The King may send us in the ordinary or in an extraordinary way. Zacharias was a priest of the course of Abijah; but his son John was the herald of Christ by extraordinary revelation. The Levite served by right of succession; the prophet because he was chosen of God. But this makes no difference; called in the one way or the other, the office remains the same, so long as we have the assurance that King Jesus has called and ordained us.

For this reason our fathers devoutly spoke of an office of all believers. In Christ's Church there are not merely a few officials and a mass of idle, unworthy subjects, but every believer has a calling, a task, a vital charge. And inasmuch as we are convinced that we perform the task because the King has laid it upon us not for ourselves, nor even from the motive of philanthropy, but to serve the Church, to this extent has our work an official character, altho the world denies us the honor.

XXXVII.

Spiritual Gifts.

"But desire earnestly the greater gifts. And a still more excellent way show I unto you." —1 Cor. xii. 31 (R.V.).

The charismata or spiritual gifts are the divinely ordained means and powers whereby the King enables His Church to perform its task on the earth.

The Church has a calling in the world. It is being violently attacked not only by the powers of this world, but much more by the invisible powers of Satan. No rest is allowed. Denying that Christ has conquered, Satan believes that the time left him may yet bring him victories. Hence his restless rage and fury, his incessant attacks upon the ordinances of the Church, his constant endeavor to divide and corrupt it, and his ever-repeated denial of the authority and kingship of Jesus in His Church. Altho he will never succeed entirely, he does succeed to some extent. The history of the Church in every country shows it; it proves that a satisfactory condition of the Church is highly exceptional and of short duration, and that for eight out of ten centuries its state is sad and deplorable, cause for shame and grief on the part of God’s people.

And yet in all this warfare it has a calling to fulfill, an appointed task to accomplish. It may sometimes consist in being sifted like wheat, as in Job’s case, to show that by virtue of Christ’s prayer faith cannot be destroyed in its bosom. But whatever the form of the task, the Church always needs spiritual power to perform it; a power not in itself, but which the King must supply.

Every means afforded by the King for the doing of His work is a charisma, a gift of grace. Hence the internal connection between work, office, and gift.

Wherefore St. Paul says: "To each one is given the manifestation of the Spirit to profit withal," (1 Cor. xii. 7) i.e., for the general good (ðñïò ro avpotpov) (1 Cor. xii. 7). And, again, still more clearly: "Even so ye, forasmuch as ye are zealous of spiritual gifts, seek that ye may excel, to the edifying of the Church" (1 Cor. xiv. 12). Hence the petition, "Thy Kingdom come," which the Heidelberg Catechism interprets: "Rule us so by Thy Word and Spirit that we may submit ourselves more and more to Thee; preserve and increase Thy Church; destroy the works of the devil, and all violence which would exalt itself against Thee, and also all wicked counsels devised against Thy Holy Word, till the full perfection of the Kingdom takes place, wherein Thou shall be all in all."

It is wrong, therefore, to consider the life of individual believers too much by itself, separating it from the life of the Church. They exist not but in connection with the body, and thus they become partakers of the spiritual gifts. In this sense the Heidelberg Catechism confesses the communion of saints: "First, that all and every one who believes, being members of Christ, are in common partakers of Him and of all His riches and gifts; secondly, that every one must know it to be his duty readily and cheerfully to employ his gifts for the advantage and salvation of other members." The parable of the talents has the same aim; for the servant who with his talent failed to benefit others receives a terrible judgment. Even the hidden gift must be stirred up, as St. Paul says; not to boast of it or to feed our pride, but because it is the Lord’s and intended for the Church.

St. John writing, "Ye have an unction from the Holy One, and ye know all things" (1 John ii. 20), and "Ye need not that any man teach you" (1 John ii. 27), does not mean to say that every individual believer possesses the full anointing, and in virtue of this knoweth all things. For if this were so, who would not despair of salvation, nor dare say: "I have, the faith"? Moreover, how could the statement, "Ye need not that any man teach you," be reconciled with the testimony of the same apostle, that the Holy Spirit qualifies teachers appointed by Jesus Himself? Not the individual believer, but the whole Church as a body possesses the full anointing of the Holy One and knows all things. The Church as a body needs not that any come to teach it from without; for it, possesses all the treasure of wisdom and knowledge, being united with the Head, who is the reflection of the glory of God, in whom dwelleth all wisdom.

And this applies not to the Church of one period, but of all ages. The Church of to-day is the same as in the, day of the apostles. The life lived then is the life that animates it now. The gains of two centuries ago belong to its treasury, as well as those received to-day. The past is its capital. The wonderful and glorious revelation received by the Church of the first century was given, through it, to the Church of all ages, and is still effectual. And all the spiritual strength and insight, the inward grace, the clearer consciousness, received during the course of the ages are not lost, but form an accumulated treasure, increasing still by the ever-renewed additions of spiritual gifts.

He who realizes and acknowledges this fact feels himself rich, and blessed indeed. For this apostolic view of the matter causes us to be thankful for our brother's gift, which otherwise we might envy; inasmuch as those gifts do not impoverish, but enrich us. In one city there may be twelve ministers of the Word, all gifted in various directions. According to the natural man, each will be jealous of his brother’s gifts and fear that his talents will excel his own. But not so among the Lord’s own servants. They feel that together they serve one Lord and one flock, and bless God for giving them together what the leading and feeding require. In an army the artillerist is not jealous of the cavalryman, for he knows that the latter is for his protection in the hour of danger.

Moreover, this apostolic standpoint excludes isolation; for it creates the longing for fellowship with distant brethren, even tho they walk in more or less deviating paths. It is impossible, Bible in hand, to limit Christ's Church to one’s own little community. It is everywhere, in all parts of the world; and whatever its external form, frequently changing, often impure, yet the gifts wherever received increase our riches.

This apostolic standpoint is also against the foolish notion that for eighteen centuries the Church has received no gifts whatever; and hence that, like the early Church, each of us must take his Bible to formulate his own confession. That standpoint makes one so intensely conscious of the communion of spiritual gifts that he can not but appreciate the Church's treasure accumulated during the centuries. In fact, Christ's Church has received greatest abundance of spiritual gifts; and to-day we have the disposition not only of the gifts of the churches in our own city, but of all those imparted to the churches elsewhere, and of the historic capital accumulated during eighteen centuries.

XXXVIII.

The Ministry of the Word.

"He shall lead you into all truth." —John xvi. 13.

Let us now consider the second activity of the Holy Spirit in the Church, which we prefer to designate as His care-taking of the Word. In this we distinguish three parts, viz.: the Sealing, the Interpretation, and the Application of the Word.

In the first place, it is the Holy Spirit who seals the Word. This has reference to the “testimonium Spiritus Sancti,” of which our fathers used to speak and by which they understood the operation whereby He creates in the hearts of believers the firm and lasting conviction concerning the divine and absolute authority of the Word of God.

The Word is, if we may so express it, a child of the Holy Spirit. He has brought it forth. We owe it entirely to His peculiar activity. He is its Auctor Primarius, i.e., its Principal Author. And thus it can not seem strange that He should exercise that motherly care over the child of His own travail whereby He enables it to fulfil its destiny. And this destiny is, in the first place, to be believed in by the elect; secondly, to be understood by them; and lastly, to be lived by them; three operations that are successively effected in them by the sealing, the interpretation, and the application of the Word. The sealing of the Word quickens the "faith"; the interpretation imparts the "right understanding"; and the application effects the "living" of it.

We mention the sealing of the Word first, for without faith in its divine authority it can not be God’s Word to us.

The question is: How do we come in real contact and fellowship with the Holy Scripture, which, as a mere external object, lies before us?

We are told that it is the Word of God; but how can this become our own firm conviction? It can never be obtained by investigation. In fact, it ought to be acknowledged that the more one investigates the Word the more he loses his simple and childlike faith in it. It can not even be said that the doubt created by superficial inquiry will be dispelled by deeper research; for even the profound scrutiny of earnest men has had but one result, viz., the increase of interrogation-points.

We can not in this way examine the contents of the Scripture without destroying it for ourselves. If one wishes to examine the contents of an egg, he must not break it, for then he disturbs it and it is an egg no more; but he should ask them that know about it. In like manner we can learn the truth of the Scripture only by sealing and external communication.

For suppose that the final verdict of science will eventually confirm the divine authority of the Scripture, as we firmly believe it will, what would that avail us in our present spiritual need, since during our short life science will not reach that final verdict? And even if after thirty or forty years we should see it, would that avail my present distress? And if this difficulty could also be removed, we would still ask: Is it not cruel to give spiritual assurance only to Greek and Hebrew scholars? Do not men see and understand, then, that the evidence of the divine authority of the Scripture must come to us in such a manner that the simplest old woman in the poorhouse can see it just as well as I can?

Hence all learned investigation, as the basis for spiritual conviction, is out of the question. He who denies this maltreats souls and introduces an offensive clericalism. For what is the result? The notion that the unscholarly can have no assurance of themselves; that is what ministers are for; they have studied the matter; they ought to know, and the simple folk must believe upon their authority.

The absurdity of this notion is obvious. In the first place, the learned gentlemen are frequently the greatest doubters. Secondly, one minister almost always contradicts what another has laid down as the truth. And, thirdly, the congregation, treated as a minor, is delivered again into the power of men; a yoke is laid upon it which our fathers could not bear; and the mistake is made of trying to prove the testimony of God by that of men.

If we must bear a yoke, then give us that of Rome ten times rather than that of the scholars; for altho Rome puts men between us and the Scripture, they speak at least with one mouth. They all repeat what the Pope has settled for them, and his authority rests not upon his scholarship, but upon his pretended spiritual illumination. Hence the Roman Catholic priests do not contradict one another. Neither is their teaching the fancy of a defective learning, but the result of a mental development that Rome attained in its most excellent men, and that in connection with the spiritual labor of many centuries.

Of all clericalism, that of the intellectual stamp is the most unbearable; for one is always silenced with the remark, "You don't know Greek," or, "You don't read Hebrew"; while the child of God feels irresistibly that in the matters that concern eternity, Greek and Hebrew can not have the last word. And this apart from the fact that to a number of these scholars Professor Cobet might say in turn: "Dear sir, do you still know Greek yourself?" Of the shallow knowledge of Hebrew in the largest number of cases, it is better not to speak.

No, in that way we never get there. To make the divine authority of the Holy Scripture real to us, we need not a human, but a divine testimony, equally convincing to the simplest and to the most learned—a testimony that must not be cast as pearls before swine, but be limited to those who can gather from it noblest fruit viz., to them that are born again.

And this testimony is not derived from the Pope and his priests, nor from the theological faculty with its ministers, but comes with the sealing from the Holy Spirit alone. Hence it is a divine testimony, and as such stops all contradiction and silences all doubt. It is a testimony the same to all, belonging to the peasant in the field and to the theologian in his study. Finally, it is a testimony which they alone receive who have open eyes, so that they can see spiritually.

However, this testimony does not work by magic. It does not cause the confused mind of unbelief suddenly to cry out: "Surely the Scripture is the Word of God!" If this were the case, the way of enthusiasts would be open, and our salvation would depend again upon a pretended spiritual insight. No, the testimony of the Holy Spirit works in an entirely different way. He begins to bring us into contact with the Word, either by our own reading or by the communication of others. Then He shows us the picture of the sinner according to the Scripture, and the salvation which mercifully saved him; and lastly, He makes us hear the song of praise upon his lips. And after we have seen this objectively, with the eye of the understanding, He then so works upon our feeling that we begin to see ourselves in that sinner, and to feel that the truth of the Scripture directly concerns us. Finally. He takes hold of the will, causing the very power seen in the Scripture to work in us. And when thus the whole man, mind, heart, and will, has experienced the power of the Word, then He adds to this the comprehensive operation of assurance, whereby the Holy Scripture in divine splendor commences to scintillate before our eyes.

Our experience is like that of a person who, from his brightly lighted room, looks out in the dusk. At first, owing to the brightness within, he sees nothing. But blowing out his light and looking out once more, he gradually distinguishes forms and figures, and after a while he enjoys the soft twilight. Let us apply this to the Word of God. So long as the light of our own insight flashes through the soul, we, looking through the window of eternity, fail to perceive anything. It is all wrapped in cloudy darkness. But when at last we prevail upon ourselves to extinguish that light, and look out again, then we see a divine world gradually coming up out of the gloom, and, to our surprise, where at first we saw nothing we now see a glorious realm bathed in divine light.

And thus God's elect obtain a firm assurance concerning the Word of God that nothing can shake, of which no learning can rob them. They stand firm as a wall. They are founded upon a rock. The winds may howl and the floods descend, but they fear not. They stay upon their indestructible faith, not only as a result of the Holy Spirit's first operation, but because He supports the conviction continually. Jesus said, "He abideth with you forever"; and this has primary reference to this testimony concerning the Word of God. In the believing heart He testifies continually: "Fear not, the Scripture is the Word of your God."

However, this is not all of the Holy Spirit's work in regard to the Word. It must also be interpreted.

And He, the Inspirer, alone can give the right interpretation. If among men each is the best interpreter of his own word, how much more here where no man shall ever have the boldness to say that he understands the Spirit's full and proper meaning as well as He Himself, if not better? Even if the authors of both Testaments should rise from the dead and tell us the meaning of their respective Scriptures—even that would not be the full and deep interpretation. For they wrote things the comprehensive meaning of which they did not understand. E g., when Moses wrote about the serpent’s seed, it is obvious that he did not begin to see all that is contained in the "bruising of his heel."

Hence the Holy Spirit alone can interpret the Scripture. And how? After the manner of Rome, by means of an official translation as the Vulgate; an official interpretation of every word and sentence; and an official condemnation of every other explanation?, By no means. This would be very easy, but also very unspiritual. Death would cleave to it. The full, boundless ocean of truth would be confined within the narrow limits of a formula. And the refreshing fragrance of life, which always meets us from the sacred page, would at once be lost.

Surely the churches may not be given over to an arbitrary, irresponsible translation of the Word; and we greatly appreciate the mutual care of the churches in providing a correct translation in the vernacular. We consider it even highly desirable that, under the seal of their approval, the churches should publish expository marginal readings. But neither the one nor the other should ever replace the Scripture itself. Scriptural research must ever be free. And when there is spiritual courage, then let the churches revise their translation and see whether their expository readings need modification. Not, however, to unsettle things every three years, but that in every period of vigorous, animated, spiritual life the light of the Holy Spirit may be shed in larger measure upon the things that always need more light.

Hence the work of the Holy Spirit with reference to interpretation is indirect, and the means employed are: (1) scientific study; (2) the ministry of the Word; and (3) the spiritual experience of the Church. And it is by the cooperation of these three factors that, in the course of ages, the Holy Spirit indicates which interpretation deviates from the truth, and which is the correct understanding of the Word.

This interpretation is followed by the application.

The Holy Scripture is a wonderful mystery, which is intended to meet the needs and conflicts of every age, nation, and saint. When preparing it He foreknew those ages, nations, and saints, and with an eye to their necessities He so planned and arranged it as it is now offered to us. And only then will the Holy Scripture attain the end in view, when to every age, nation, church, and individual it shall be applied in such a way that every saint shall receive at last whatever portion was reserved for him in the Scripture. Hence this work of application belongs to the Holy Spirit alone, for only He knows the relation which the Scripture must sustain at last to every one of God's elect.

As to the manner in which the work is performed, it is either direct or indirect.

The indirect application comes most generally through the ministry, which attains its highest end when standing before his congregation the minister can say: "This is the message of the Word which at this time the Holy Spirit intends for you." An awful claim, indeed, and only attainable when one lives as deeply in the Word as in the Church. Besides this there is also an application of the Word brought about by the spoken or written word of a brother, which sometimes is as effectual as a long sermon. The quiet perusal of some exposition of the truth has sometimes stirred the soul more effectually than a service in the house of prayer.

The direct application of the Word the Holy Spirit effects by the reading of the Scripture or by remembered passages. Then He brings to remembrance words deeply affecting us by their singular power. And, altho the world smiles and even brethren profess ignorance concerning it, it is our conviction that the special application of that moment was for us and not for them, and that in our inward souls the Holy Spirit performed a work peculiar to Himself.

XXXIX.

The Government of the Church.

"No man can say that Jesus is the Lord, but by the Holy Ghost."—1 Cor. xii. 3.

The last work of the Holy Spirit in the Church has reference to government.

The Church is a divine institution. It is the body of Christ, even tho manifesting itself in a most defective way; for as the man whose speech is affected by a stroke of paralysis is the same friendly person as before, in spite of the defect, so is the Church, whose speech is impaired, still the same holy body of Christ. The visible and invisible Church are one.

We have written elsewhere: “The Church of Christ on earth is at once visible and invisible. Even as a man is at once a perceptible and imperceptible being without being therefore two beings, so does the distinction between the Church visible and invisible in no wise impair its unity. It is one and the same Church, which according to its spiritual being is hidden in the spiritual world, manifest only to the spiritual eye, and which according to its visible form manifests itself externally to believers and the world.

"According to its spiritual and invisible being the Church is one in all the earth, one also with the Church in heaven. In like manner it is also a holy Church, not only because it is skilfully wrought of God, dependent entirely upon His divine influences and workings, but also because the spiritual defilement and indwelling sin of believers belong not to it, but war against it. According to its visible form, however, it manifests itself only in fragments. Hence it is local, i.e., widely distributed; and the national churches originate because these local churches form such connection as their own character and their national relations demand. More extensive combinations of churches can only be temporal or exceedingly loose and flexible. And these churches, as manifestations of the invisible church, are not one, neither are they holy; for they partake of the imperfections of all earthly life, and are constantly defiled by the power of sin which internally and externally undermines their well-being."

Hence the subject may not be presented as tho the spiritual, invisible, and mystical Church were the object of Christ’s care and government, while the affairs and oversight of the visible Church are left to the pleasure of men. This is in direct opposition to the Word of God. There is not one visible Church and another invisible; but one Church, invisible in the spiritual, and visible in the material world. And as God cares both for body and soul, so does Christ govern the external affairs of the Church just as certainly as with His grace He nourishes it internally.

Christ is the Lord; Lord not only of the soul, but before He can be that He must be Lord of the Church as a whole.

It should be noticed that the preaching of the Word and the administration of the sacraments belong not to the internal economy of the Church, but to the external; and that church government serves almost exclusively to keep the preaching pure and the sacraments from being profaned. Hence it is not expedient to say: “If the Word of God be only preached in its purity and the sacraments rightly administered, the church order is of minor importance”; eliminate these two from the church order and very little remains of it.

The question is, therefore, whether these means of grace are to be arranged according to our pleasure, or according to the will of Jesus. Does He allow us to trifle with them according to our own notions, or does He rebuke and abhor all self-willed religion? If the last, then also He must from heaven direct, govern, and care for His Church.

However, He does not compel us in this matter; He has left us the awful liberty of acting against His Word and of substituting our form of government for His own. And that is the very thing which misguided Christendom has done again and again. Through unbelief, not seeing the King, it has frequently ignored, forgotten, deposed Him; it has established its own self-willed régime in His Church, until at last the very remembrance of the lawful Sovereign has been lost.

The individual church, still mindful of the kingship of Jesus, professes to bow unconditionally to His kingly Word as contained in the Scripture. Therefore, we say that in the state church of the Netherlands, whose church order not only lacks such profession, but lays the supreme legislative power exclusively upon men, Christ's Kingship is mocked; that a pretender has usurped His place, who must be removed as surely as it is written: "Yet have I set My King upon My holy hill of Zion." (Psalm ii. 6)

Hence it must be maintained firmly and fearlessly that Jesus is not only the King of souls, but also King in His Church; whose absolute prerogative it is to be the Lawgiver in His Church; and that the power which contests that right most be opposed for conscience' sake.

To the question, why the Church is so apt to forget the Kingship of Christ, so that many a godly minister has not the slightest feeling for it, often saying: "Surely Jesus is King in the realm of truth, but what does He care for the external church? I, at least, a spiritual man, never attend the meetings of the official board"; we answer: "If Jesus had an earthly throne and thence reigned personally over His Church, all men would bow before Him; but being enthroned in heaven at the right hand of the Father, the King is forgotten; out of sight, out of mind. Hence ignorance concerning the work of the Holy Spirit is the cause. Since Jesus governs His Church not directly, but by His Word and Spirit, there is no respect for the majesty of His sovereign government.

The spiritual eye of the believer must therefore be reopened for the work of the Holy Spirit in the churches. The unspiritual man has no eye for it. A consistory, classis, or synod is to him merely a body of men convened to transact business according to their own light, the same as a meeting of the directors of a board of trade, or some other secular organization. One is a shareholder and a committeeman, and as such assists in the administration of affairs to the best of his ability. But to the child of God, with an eye for the work of the Holy Spirit, these church assemblies assume an entirely different aspect. He acknowledges that this consistory is no consistory, this classis no classis, this synod only apparently so, except the Holy Spirit preside and decide matters together with the members.

The opening prayer of consistory, classis, or synod is therefore not the same as that of the Y. M. C. A., or of a missionary convention, simply a prayer for light and help, but an entirely different thing. It is the petition that the Holy Spirit stand in the midst of the assembly. For without Him no ecclesiastical meeting is complete. It can not be held except He be present. Hence in the liturgical prayer at the opening of consistory, there is first a petition for the Holy Spirit’s presence and leadership; secondly, the confession that the members can do nothing without His presence; and thirdly, a pleading of the promises to office-bearers.

The prayer reads: "Since we are at present assembled in Thy Holy Name, after the example of the apostolic churches, to consult, as our office requires, about those things which may come before us, for the welfare and edification of Thy churches, for which we acknowledge ourselves unfit and incapable, as we are by nature unable of ourselves to think any good, much less to put it into practise, therefore we beseech Thee, O Faithful God and Father, that Thou wilt be pleased to be present with Thy Spirit according to Thy promise, in the midst of our present assembly, to guide us in all truth."

In the prayer at the close of the consistory there follows the express giving of thanks that the Holy Spirit was present in the meeting: "Moreover, we thank Thee that Thou now hast been present with Thy Holy Spirit in the midst of our assembly, directing our determinations according to Thy will, uniting our hearts in mutual peace and concord. We beseech Thee, O faithful God and Father, that Thou wilt graciously be pleased to bless our intended labor and effectually to execute Thy begun work; always gathering unto Thyself a true church and preserving the same in the pure doctrine and in the right use of Thy holy sacraments, and in a diligent exercise of discipline."

Hence church government signifies:

First, that King Jesus institutes the offices and appoints the incumbents.

Secondly, that the churches submit themselves unconditionally to the fundamental law of His Word.

Thirdly, that the Holy Spirit come in the assembly to direct the deliberations; as Walæus expressed it: "That the Holy Spirit personally may stand behind the president to preside in every meeting.” And this saying is so rich in meaning that we would seriously ask, whether it is not yet plain that a mere change of officers avails not, so long as the organization itself is not agreeable to the Word of God. The question is not whether better men come in power, but whether the Holy Spirit preside in the assembly; which He can not do except the Word of God be the only rule and authority.

II.

Sanctification Is a Mystery.

“Let us cleanse ourselves from all filthiness of flesh and spirit, perfecting holiness in the fear of. God.” —2 Cor. vii. 1.

Sanctification belongs to the mysteries of faith; hence it can not be confessed but as a dogma.

By this statement we intend to cut off at once every representation which makes “sanctification” to consist of the human effort to make oneself holy or holier.

To become more holy is undoubtedly the duty which rests upon every man. God has condemned all unholiness, as an accursed thing. Inferior holiness can not exist before Him. Every man more or less holy is bound to forsake all unholiness, to resign all lesser holiness, and let perfect holiness dwell and be manifest in him instantly. The commandment, “Be ye holy as I am holy,” (Lev. xi. 45; 1 Pet. i. 16) may not be weakened. The laxity of the current morale requires that God’s absolute right to demand absolute holiness of every man be incessantly presented to the conscience, bound as a memorial upon the heart, and proclaimed to all with no uncertain sound.

In the innumerable territories of heaven where God gathers His redeemed, all unholiness is excluded and absolute holiness is the never-failing characteristic. And as it is in heaven, so it ought to be on earth. God, the sovereign Ruler of all the kingdoms of this world, has strictly forbidden the least unholiness in heart or home, or any other place on earth under the penalty of death. In fact, there is on earth no unholiness of whatever name or form, that does not exist in defiance of His express will.

It must be conceded, therefore, that it is His revealed will and commandment that all this unholiness must cease immediately, and be replaced directly by what is holy and good. He is of purer eyes than to behold iniquity.

It must be equally conceded that it is every man’s duty to remove unholiness, and to advance the things that are holy. He that caused the hurt must also heal it. He that destroyed must also restore the things destroyed. He that desecrated the holy must also reconsecrate it. Men still alive to a sense of justice will not contradict us.

The obligation to resanctify this world’s life rests in its deepest sense upon Satan. He instilled into our veins the poison which generates the diseases of our souls. The spark that caused the fire of sinful passions to break out inhuman nature was kindled by him. That Satan is hopelessly lost and condemned, does not annul God’s eternal right. Even Satan himself, according to this right, ought immediately to repent and stand before God holy as in the beginning. And this world of men, which he corrupted, was not his, but belonged to God. He should never have touched it. Hence the obligation continues to rest upon him not only to stop his unholy working in it, but also to reconsecrate perfectly what he has so bitterly and maliciously profaned.

That Satan neither will nor can do this justifies his fearful judgment; but it does not annul God’s right and never will. If in Paradise man had unwillingly fallen a victim to Satan, the obligation to resanctify the life of this world would have rested upon Satan, but not upon him. But man fell willingly; sin owes its existence not only to the fatherhood of Satan, but also to the motherhood of man’s soul; hence man himself is involved in the guilt and included under the judgment of death, and therefore obliged to restore what he has ruined.

God created man holy, with the power to continue holy; holy also by virtue of the increasing development of the implanted germ. But man ruined God’s work in his heart. He soiled the undefiled raiment of holiness. And doing this he violated the right. If he had belonged to himself, if God had allowed him to do with himself as he pleased, the right would not have been violated. But He did not give man to himself; He retained him for Himself as His own property. The hand that ruined and desecrated man destroyed God’s property, encroached upon the divine right of sovereignty—yea, upon His very right of ownership, and thus became liable (1) to the penalty for this encroachment, and (2) to the obligation of restoring the ruined property to its original state.

Hence the undeniable and positive obligation of man’s self-sanctification. This obligation rests, not upon God, nor upon Mediator, but upon man and Satan. The prayer, “Lord, sanctify me,” upon the lips of the unconverted, not under the Covenant of Grace, is most unbecoming. First wilfully to destroy God’s property, and then to take the ruined thing to Him demanding that He heal and restore it, antagonizes the right and reverses the ordinances. Nay, outside of the mysteries of the Covenant of Grace, under the obligations of simple justice, we are not to, ask: “Lord, sanctify Thou us,” but God is to enforce His righteous claim: “Sanctify thyself.”

Sanctify thyself does not mean that man should fulfil the law. The keeping of the law and sanctification are two entirely different things. Let the sinner first be sanctified, and then he shall also fulfil the law. First sanctification, then fulfilment of the law.

It is like a harp with broken strings. The harp was made to produce music by the harmonious vibration of the strings. But the production of music is not the mending of the harp. The broken strings must be replaced, the new strings must be tuned, and then is it possible to strike the melodious chords. The human heart is like that harp: God created it pure that we might keep the law; which an impure heart can not do. Hence being profaned and unholy, it must be sanctified; then it will be able to fulfil the law.

For the sake of clearness, two acknowledged facts should be noticed:

First, if man had never been profaned by sin, it would never have entered his mind to sanctify himself; and yet the law would have been fulfilled without disturbance. This shows that sanctification and fulfilment of the law are two entirely different things.

Second, sanctification continues until a man dies and enters heaven. Then he is holy. Hence there is no sanctification in heaven. Yet the only occupation of the saints in heaven is the doing of that which is good. Hence sanctification is a matter by itself; it does not consist in the doing of good works, but must be an accomplished fact before a single good work can be done.

Since man profaned himself, he is called of God to resanctify himself. Hence the claim of sanctification contains not even the shadow of a mystery. It has nothing to do with the mysteries, therefore is no dogma. It is the simplest and most natural verdict of God’s right in the conscience. That we speak of unholiness implies that we are convinced that we ought to be holy.

III.

Sanctification and Justification.

“Yield your members servants to righteousness unto sanctification.” —Rom. vi. 19.

Sanctification must remain sanctification. It may not arbitrarily be robbed of its significance, nor be exchanged for something else. It must always signify the making holy of what is unholy or less holy.

Care must be taken not to confound sanctification with justification; a common mistake, frequently made by thoughtless Scripture readers. Hence the importance of a thorough understanding of this difference. Being left unnoticed, it may lead to confused preaching, which causes one-sidedness; and active and thoughtful men, invariably systematize their one-sidedness.

What, then, is the difference? According to our ancient theologians it is fourfold:

1. Justification works for man; sanctification in man.

2. Justification removes the guilt; sanctification the stain.

3. Justification imputes to us an extraneous righteousness: sanctification works a righteousness inherent as our own.

4. Justification is at once completed; sanctification increases gradually; hence remains imperfect.

In the main the answer is correct, but insufficient to meet present error. It is shallow, external, and incomplete; makes too much of righteous-making and holy-making, while it does not consider righteousness and holiness, a correct idea of which is absolutely necessary for the clear understanding of justification and sanctification.

Let us examine these fundamental ideas, first, in God Himself. It becomes evident at once that the words, “Our God is righteous,” impress us otherwise than, “Holy, holy, holy is the Lord!”

IV.

Sanctification and Justification (Continued).

“He that is holy, let him be holy still.” —Rev. xxii. 11.

The divine Righteousness, having reference to the divine Sovereignty, in one sense does not manifest itself until God enters into relationship with the creatures. He was glorious in holiness from all eternity, for man’s creation did not modify His Being; but His righteousness could not be displayed before creation, because right presupposes two beings sustaining the jural relation.

An exile on an uninhabited island can not be righteous nor do righteously; he can not even conceive of the jural relation so long as there is no man present whose rights he must respect, or who can deny his rights. The arrival of other men will necessarily create the jural relation between him and them. But so long as he remains alone, he may be holy or unholy, but he can not be said to be righteous or unrighteous. In like manner it may be said of God that before creation He was holy, but could not display His righteousness simply because there were no creatures sustaining toward Him the jural relation. But immediately after the creation the display of righteousness became possible.

Still the illustration can be applied to God only to a certain extent. Essentially God is not alone, but Triune in persons; hence there is between the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit a mutual relation. This relation, being the highest, tenderest, and most intimate, contains from eternity the completest expression of righteousness. And even with reference to the creature, the divine righteousness did not originate until after the creation, but finds perfect expression in the eternal counsel. That counsel not only determines every possible jural relation between the creatures and the Creator, and the creatures themselves, but indicates also the means whereby this relation must be restored when broken or disturbed.

V.

Holy Raiment of One’s Own Weaving.

“I dwell in the high and holy places.” —Isa. lvii. 15.

Holiness inheres in man’s being.

There is external holiness, e.g., that of the Levitical order, effected by washing or sprinkling with sacrificial blood; or official holiness, denoting separation for divine service, in which sense the prophets and apostles are called holy, and church-members are called holy and beloved. But these have nothing to do with the sanctification now under discussion.

Sanctification as a gift of grace refers to a man’s personal holiness. As the divine holiness is God’s exaltation above, and angry recoil from all impurity and defilement, so is human holiness man’s essential disposition by which spontaneously he loves purity and hates the unclean. Victory over temptation after a long and painful conflict, in which our feet had wellnigh slipped, is not holiness.

Holiness signifies a disposition, an inherent quality, or, by another manner of speaking, a tint or shade adopted by the soul, so that the heart’s evil manifestations and Satan’s wicked whisperings fill us with positive horror. As the musically trained ear is painfully affected by a dissonance as it vibrates along the shuddering auditory nerve, while the unmusical ear never perceives the offense against the purity of tone, so is the difference between the sanctified and the unsanctified. Whatever the world’s moral dissonances may be, they fail to affect the ungodly, who even praise the music; but they distress the saint whose soul delights in the harmony of holy concord.

This holy or unholy disposition includes our entire inward being: it inheres in mind, conscience, understanding, will, feelings, and inclinations. Evil and impure speech affords pleasure or pain to all these.

Yet this is not the final token of being holy or unholy. Something more is required. Do not many of the unregenerate shudder at much that is evil, and delight in mach that is good? Sympathy for the good may be called holiness only when it possesses this essential feature, that it wills the good for God’s sake alone.

God alone is holy. There is no holiness but that which descends from Him, the Fountain of all good, hence of all holiness. Mere human holiness is a counterfeit, an attack upon God’s honor of being the sole and only Fountain of all good. It is the creature’s effort to be equal with God, and as such essential sin. Nay, man’s holiness must be the divinely implanted disposition, stirring his entire being to love what God loves, not from his own taste, but for His Name’s sake.

Being planned after the divine image, Adam and Eve possessed this holiness; hence discord between them and their Maker was impossible. Their holiness was not in germ merely, but complete, for everything in them was in perfect accord with God. And the redeemed in heaven are holy; in death they are severed completely from the internal source of sin; they are essentially in full and warm sympathy with the divine holiness, whose every feature, attracts them.

But the sinner has lost this holiness. It is his misery that every expression of his being is naturally in collision with the will of God; whose holiness does not attract, but repels him. And mere regeneration does not sanctify his inclination and disposition; nor is it able of itself to germinate the holy disposition. But it requires the Holy Spirit’s additional and very peculiar act, whereby the disposition of the regenerated and converted sinner is brought gradually into harmony with the divine will; and this is the gracious gift of sanctification.

But this does not imply that a man who dies immediately after conversion enters heaven without sanctification. This would be a very comfortless doctrine, and would unintentionally encourage Antinomianism. God’s child entering heaven is completely sanctified; not in this life, but after it.

According to Scripture there is in heaven a difference between the spirits of the redeemed; they do not resemble each other as do two drops of water. In the parable of the talents Christ teaches clearly that in heaven there is a difference in the distribution of talents. He who denies this robs himself of the positive promise that “the Father who seeth in secret shall reward openly.” (Matt. vi. 4, 6, 18) The heavenly state which we preach is not based upon the principles of the French Revolution; on the contrary, in the assembly of just men made perfect we shall never ascend to the rank of apostle or prophet, probably not even to that of martyr. Nevertheless there is in heaven no saint whose sanctification is incomplete. In this respect all are alike.

But there will be room for development. The complete sanctification of my personality, body and soul, does not imply that my holy disposition is now in actual contact with all the fulness of the divine holiness. On the contrary, as I ascend from glory to glory, I shall find in the infinite depths of the divine Being the eternal object of richest delight in ever-increasing measure. In this respect the redeemed in heaven are like Adam and Eve in Paradise, who, tho perfectly holy, were destined to enter more fully into the life of the divine love by endless development.

It should therefore be thoroughly understood that at the moment of their entering heaven the sanctification of the redeemed lacks nothing. Nevertheless their sanctification will receive fullest completion when, risen from the grave, in the glory of the resurrection-body, they enter the Kingdom of Glory after the day of judgment. Until that hour they are in a state of separation from the body, resting in peace; awaiting the coming of the Lord.

Since sanctification includes body and soul, exhaustive treatment requires that we call attention to this point. Not as tho this intermediate state were sinful, a sort of purgatory; for the Scripture teaches clearly that in death we are separated from the body. The fact that the body remains impure until the day of glorification does not affect the holy state of the departed saint. Being freed from the body, he is no more affected by it. And when, in the notable day of the Lord, the body shall be restored to him; it shall be perfectly holy, pure, and glorified.

That which belongs to Jesus enters heaven perfectly holy. The slightest lack would indicate something internally sinful; would annihilate the glorious confession that death is a dying to all sin, as well as the positive declaration of Scripture; that nothing that defiles shall enter the gates of the city. Hence it is the unalterable rule of sanctification that every redeemed soul entering heaven is perfectly sanctified.

This applies to the infant who being regenerated in the cradle is carried thence to the grave, in whom, therefore, conscious exercise of holiness is out of the question; and to every converted person who dies suddenly; and to the man who, hardened all his life, in his dying hour repents before God, and departs one of the redeemed of the Lord.

The supporters of the ordinary Arminian doctrine consider this representation impossible. They believe that sanctification is an effect of the saint’s own exertion, exercise, and conflict. It is like a beautiful garment of fine linen, very desirable, but it must be of one’s own weaving. This labor is begun immediately after the saint’s conversion. The loom is set up, and he begins to weave. He continues his spiritual labor with but few interruptions. The piece of linen gradually increases under his hand, and assumes form and shape. If not cut down in early life, he expects to finish it even before the hour of his departure.

The pulpit must oppose this theory, which comes, not from Arminius’s books, but from man’s wicked heart. For it is not only very comfortless, but also wicked.

It is comfortless: for, if true, then all our precious little ones who died in the cradle are lost, for they could not put one stitch in this raiment of their glory; comfortless: for if the saint should happen to be behindhand with his weaving, or be taken away in the midst of his days before he could half finish it, he would surely be lost. Nor is it less comfortless for him whose death-bed conversion is utterly useless, for it came too late for the weaving of this garment of sanctification.

And it is also wicked: for then Christ is no sufficient Savior. He may effect our justification and open the gates of Paradise, but the weaving of our own wedding-garments He lays upon us, without insuring us sufficient time to finish them. Yea, wicked indeed is it; for this makes the weaving of the fine linen our work, sanctification man’s achievement, and God is no longer the only Author of our salvation. Then it is no grace, and man’s own work is again on its feet.

In thus subverting the very foundation of holy things; thoughtless Ethical theologians ought to consider the destruction they bring upon Christ’s Church. Our fathers never believed this doctrine, and always opposed it. “There is no Gospel in it,” they said. It is the concision of the Covenant of Grace; laying upon God’s saints the fear and distress of the Covenant of Works.

VI.

Christ Our Sanctification.

"Christ Jesus who of God is made unto us...sanctification."—1 Cor. i. 30.

The redeemed soul possesses all things in Christ. He is a complete Savior. He lacks nothing. Having Him we are saved to the uttermost; without Him we are utterly lost and undone.

We must earnestly maintain this point, especially with reference to sanctification; and repeat with increasing clearness that Christ is given us of God not only for wisdom and righteousness, but also for sanctification.

It reads distinctly that Christ is our righteousness and sanctification. This translation is perfectly correct. The Greek does not read, "dikaiō­sis," which is justification, but "dikaiosúnē," which never refers to the act of making righteous, but to the condition of being righteous, therefore righteousness. So it does not read, "hágios" or "hagiosúnē," which might refer to holiness, but it reads distinctly, "hagiosmós," which points to the act of making holy.

What the apostle distinguished so clearly should not be confounded.

St. Paul and the Church of Corinth are believers. They are justified in Christ already, once for all; for Christ was made righteousness unto them. But this is not the case with sanctification. "Even the holiest men have only small beginnings of this obedience, which constrain them to live not only according to some, but according to all the commandments of God" (Heidelberg Catechism, q. 114). But the work is only just begun. Compared to former times, there is a holier love and spirit in them, but they are by no means wholly sanctified. They are under the treatment of the Spirit, their Sanctifier. They become more and more conformable to the image of God (q. 15). Hence there are degrees of progress in holiness. In those but recently converted, sanctification has progressed but little; in others it has made glorious progress. So there are in the Church holy, holier, and holiest persons (q. 114).

VII.

Application of Sanctification.

“Whom He did foreknow, He also did predestinate to be conformed to the image of His Son, that He might be the first-born among many brethren.”
—Rom. viii. 29.

At His own time, and with irresistible grace, God translates His elect from death unto life. He gives them faith and the consciousness of being justified in Christ; and by conversion He puts their feet in the way of life. Thus they are free from guilt. There is for them no condemnation. Neither hell nor devil can prevail against them. Hence the apostle’s shout of victory: “Who shall lay anything to the charge of God’s elect? It is God that justifieth. Who is he that condemneth? It is Christ that died, yea, rather that is risen again, who is even at the right hand of God, who also maketh intercession for us.” (Rom. viii. 33, 34)

God’s child has formal proof of his justification not only in the Word, but also in Christ Himself, who continually presents His sacrifice before the Throne. Whether he has conscious enjoyment of this is immaterial. In his sleep, in fever’s delirium, bereft of reason by physical causes, he continues God’s child. Independent of sensations, experiences, and frames of mind; yea, tho he has never wept a tear of repentance, he possesses his treasure under all circumstances. Idiots even may possess it. Why should God have no children among them? Of course, under normal conditions conscious faith is the rule; but salvation does not depend upon the soul’s actual experience. When you walk in the sun your shadow is visible; but your existence does not depend upon your shadow.

It should be emphasized that sanctification does not imply human efforts and exertions to supplement Christ’s work: but it is the additional grace of creating in the saint supernaturally a holy disposition.

VIII.

Sanctification in Fellowship with Immanuel

“But now have ye your fruit unto sanctification, and the end everlasting life.”—Rom. vi. 22.

The third reason why our sanctification is in Christ is: that He has obtained it, that it flows from Him, and that He guarantees it.

Having your mind thoroughly divested from the false idea that sanctification is your own embroidery, holding fast the clear doctrine that it is a gift of grace, this third reason will appeal to you. If sanctification is a gift, a favor, the question arises: What for? Is it a reward for the labor of your soul? Fruit of your prayer? Encouragement on the way? Is it on account of your loveliness, piety, goodness? Is it for anything in you? For there must be a motive. That God should bestow the precious and enduring gift of sanctification on persons who with both hands oppose it, and with rough fingers mar its beauty, is inconceivable. What was it, then, that moved the Lord God to favor you? You say: “His unfathomable pleasure, which is the deepest ground of all our salvation.” Very well; but the divine counsel does not work as by magic. All that proceeds from that counsel runs its course, and shows its links that give it consistency.

Hence the question must be asked: “Who is it that obtained for you the gracious gift of sanctification?” And the answer is: “Our Redeemer; sanctification is the fruit of the Cross.”

There is no division of labor in the redemptive work. Christ did not obtain on the cross our righteousness only; leaving it for us by conflict and self-denial to obtain our sanctification; but there is One who labors, the others enter into His rest; He has trodden the wine-press alone, and of the people there was none with Him.

God has ordered our sanctification to flow from Christ directly. The Holy Spirit is the Worker, yet whatever He imparts to us He takes from Christ. “He shall receive of Mine; and He shall glorify Me.” This is no empty phrase, but sober reality.

What a redeemed soul needs is a human holiness. A man must be sanctified, not an angel. The latter can not be sanctified. Once fallen, he is lost forever. Created and fallen like Adam, he can not be restored like Adam. Knowing nothing of redemption, angels desire to look into it. Hence when, despite sin, God brings an innumerable company of men and angels to eternal life, He effects this by sanctifying the elect among unholy men; while the elect angels need no sanctification, for they have never become unholy. Sanctification refers, therefore, exclusively to men; imparts a holiness made possible and ordained only for men; creates a disposition bearing a human form and character, calculated for the peculiar needs of the human heart.

The Holy Spirit finds this holy disposition in its required form, not in the Father, nor in Himself, but in Immanuel, who as the Son of God and the Son of man possesses holiness in that peculiar human form.

Christ also guarantees to us this gracious gift. Justification being at once an accomplished fact does not require this, but sanctification is gradual.

The lack of such guaranty would fill us with doubt and uncertainty concerning our own sanctification, seeing that its beginning is small and progress slow; and concerning that of deceased infants and persons converted late in life. Such doubts would cause us fear and rob us of the comfort of the finished work.

Christ says: “Come unto Me, all ye that labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest” (Matt. xi. 28); yet experience teaches that to many believers the inherent unholiness causes constant unrest. They know that in Christ they are righteous, yet they are not comforted; for God says in His Word: “Be ye holy as I am holy.” (1 Pet. i. 16) If it only read, “Act holily,” Christ’s merits might suffice; but it reads, “Be holy,” and that means inherent, holy dispositions. Or if it read, “Become holy,” their gradual approach to the ideal would inspire them with hope. But it reads inexorably, “Be holy,” and that causes their wounded souls to fear.

Not as tho every believer is troubled on this account. Alas! many scarcely ever, and the large majority never, give the matter any thought. So long as they have reconciliation and satisfaction, including finished good works, preached to them, they are at rest. Their fleshly nature is quite well satisfied with this. But there are others, more thoughtful and of tenderer conscience, who do not accept the “wide gate and the broad way“ thus opened to their souls, but who believe the word: “Strait is the gate and narrow the way.” (Matt. vii. 14) To them it reads; “Be holy”; and there can be no rest or comfort for the conscience until they are reconciled with that word.

Hence we say that it is not enough that Christ has obtained sanctification, that the Holy Spirit imparts it, but also that Christ guarantees it to us, not once, but, forever; so that whenever we appear before the Holy One we may be actually holy in Christ.

And this is the blessed comfort of the Word, that Christ Himself is our sanctification. As in fallen Adam his descendants have the fearful certainty that their nature is wholly unclean, so in the risen Christ, His redeemed have the glorious guaranty that in Him they shall be completely holy.

This is the mystery of the Vine and the branches, and of the profound word: “Now are ye clean through the word which I have spoken unto you.” (John xv. 3) As our Surety He assures us hereby: (1) that the holy disposition once created in us, altho temporarily overwhelmed by sin, can never be lost; (2) that Christ’s form, of which there is but a small beginning in us, shall attain full perfection before we enter the New Jerusalem; (3) that as our Surety He appears before the Father in our behalf, having deposited in the treasury of His merits all that we still lack, in our name. In this knowledge the troubled soul finds rest.

Let us be careful that the precious vessel in which God presents to us this grace remains intact, for the sinner can suffice with nothing less.

But we should also be careful to avoid the other extreme, which, under the plea that Christ is our sanctification, denies the work of the Holy Spirit in the soul. The supporters of this view concede that Christ is our sanctification, that the Holy Spirit works in us, and that good works are the result, but in such a way that our own person as such remains just as wicked and unprofitable as heretofore. To be regenerate or not, believing or unbelieving, is all the same. The only difference between the two is, that independently of our own person, and against our will, the Holy Spirit makes us walk unconsciously in the way of life.

This pernicious teaching opposes Rom. vii. and the Confession of the Reformed churches. The apostle does not say that his desires and inclinations are still wicked, and that the Holy Spirit performs good works independently of him and yet by him; but he grieves that, while his desire is in sympathy with the divine will and wills the good, evil is still present. In similar sense the Catechism teaches that man is inclined to all evil so long as he is not born again, but no longer. For the quickening of the new man consists in a “sincere joy of heart in God, through Christ, and with love and delight to live according to the will of God” (q. 90).

And the soul of the unconverted is not so disposed. Hence the difference between the two is so great that the gulf of heaven and hell yawns between them.

It may therefore be profitable to our readers to lay before them once more the Confession of the Reformed theologians of the churches of Switzerland, Germany, England, and the Netherlands on this point (1619).

They confessed: “That the Holy Spirit pervades the inmost recesses of the man; He opens the closed and softens the hardened heart, and circumcises that which was uncircumcised; infuses new qualities into the will, which, tho heretofore dead, He quickens; from being evil, disobedient, and refractory, He renders it good, obedient, and pliable; actuates and strengthens it, that, like a good tree, it may bring forth the fruits of good actions” (third section, fourth Head of Doctrine, art. 11).

And this glorious work is, according to the unanimous Confession of the Reformed churches, performed in the following manner: “That the Lord does not take away the will and its properties, neither does violence thereto; but spiritually quickens, heals, corrects, and at the same time sweetly and powerfully bends it; that where carnal rebellion and resistance formerly prevailed, a ready and sincere spiritual obedience begins to reign; in which the true and spiritual restoration and freedom of our will consist” (third section, fourth Head of Doctrine, art. 16).

IX.

Implanted Dispositions.

“Perfecting holiness in the fear of the Lord.”—2 Cor. vii. 1.

To deny that the Holy Spirit creates new dispositions in the will is equivalent to a return to Romish error; even tho Rome argues the matter in a different way.

Rome denies the total corruption of the will by sin; that its disposition is wholly evil. Hence, the will of the sinner not being wholly useless, it follows: (1) that the regenerate does not need the implanting of a new disposition; (2) that in this respect there is no difference between the regenerate and the unregenerate. They who introduce into the Reformed churches this and similar teachings ought to consider that they impair one of the foundations of the Reformation, and, however unintentionally, lead us back to Rome.

The principal question in this controversy is: whether man is something or nothing.

If man is absolutely nothing, as some fondly proclaim; then God can not work in him; for He can not work in nothing. In nothing one can make nothing. In nothing nothing can be implanted. To nothing nothing can cleave. Nothing can not be a channel for anything. If man is nothing, there can be neither sin nor justification, for the sin of nothing is nothing; and nothing is no sin. Nothing can not be born again, or be converted, or share the glory of the children of God. And if there is no sin, there is no need of a Savior to atone for sin; for to atone for nothing is no atonement. Then there is no need of discussing sanctification at all. This shows that the idea that man is nothing can not be taken in the absolute sense. Since man is a being, he must be something; and they who maintain that he is nothing show by their actions that they consider themselves far from nothing.

But if we put it, “Man is nothing before God,” it becomes at once intelligible. Then every good Christian subscribes to it unconditionally; he mourns only that it is so hard to become nothing before God; and with all the saints he prays that he may more sincerely deny himself, die to himself, and know himself as nothing before God. Measured by God, man has no value. All his endeavor to be something before God is ridiculous folly. Every pulpit ought to cast down, as with trumpet-tones, every mountain of pride, and humble man before God, so that, feeling himself a mere drop in the bucket—yea, less than nothing—he may find rest in the adoration of the divine Majesty.

Before God man is not anything, not even the regenerate man; but in His hand, by His ordinance, and in His estimation, he is so great that “God crowns him with glory and honor,” loves him as His child, makes him an heir of the heavenly bliss, and invites him to spend eternity with Him.

These two may never be confounded; man’s absolute nothingness before God may never be applied to man as an instrument in God’s hand. And man’s mighty significance as God’s instrument may never tend to make him the merest something before God as a being.

So we oppose pantheistic Mysticism and deadly Pelagianism..

The essential mistake of the latter is, that it gives man as such a certain standing before God, and refuses to acknowledge that even the most learned and most excellent, whose breath is in his nostrils, “Yea, wherein is he to be esteemed?” is less than nothing before God. And false Mysticism is that injurious tendency of the human mind which, in all ages and among all nations, for the sake of being nothing before God, denies man’s significance even as God’s instrument. In its writings it is reiterated that before God man is nothing, that in God he disappears and loses himself, that God absorbs him. And this being absorbed is pushed so far that nothing remains to which sin or guilt can be ascribed. And thus the consciousness of responsibility and the conception of imputability were lost. Christian men, carried away by the fascination of being nothing, have sung hymns and preached sermons very acceptable to the Buddhists of India, but entirely outside of the pale of Christianity.

Man as God’s instrument is significant indeed. In creating him from nothing He created, not nothing, but something; and that something was so important that all creatures made before him pointed to him; in Paradise he alone was the bearer of the divine image. Dominion over all the earth was given to him; he is even to judge the angels. “The Son assumed the nature, not of angels, but of man.”

To say that this means that man is only a mirror reflecting the divine nature is the vain effort of this sickly mysticism to reconcile man’s significance with its own pantheistic theories. The Scripture teaches, not that God reflects something in us, but that He imparts it to us. The love of God by the Holy Spirit is shed abroad in our hearts. The Lord makes us His temple and enters therein. A divine seed is placed in the soul. Pure water is sprinkled upon us. The Scripture uses many other images to warn us against the false theory that denies the inherent disposition in the soul and reduces man to a mere looking-glass. The branch is not a reflection of the vine, but grows from the trunk bearing leaf and cluster. A child is not a mere mirror of the father, but a being possessed of life and quality. An enemy is not one who merely fails to reflect correctly, but a being endowed with real existence.

To make man, even as God’s instrument, a mere mirror in principle denies sin, destroys the sense of responsibility, and changes actual life into the fancies of a dream.

The Scripture teaches on this point that before God man is nothing; that only through God man is something; and that all inherent and acquired goodness comes only from the Fountain of all good. And, following in the steps of the Reformed fathers, we must maintain this doctrine. But to deny man’s real and peculiar being is inconsistent with Scripture and with the Confession.

Thus escaping from the chaos of a false mysticism, and returning to the purified and ordained truth, we find no more difficulty in sanctification. Of course, if God’s child is but a polished mirror, then they who deny the inherent, holy disposition are right, and such disposition is out of the question. As a mirror, man is dead, and all that can be seen in him is but a faint and passing reflection of the image of God. But if man, as God’s instrument, has being of his own kind, it is natural that besides being, God gave him also qualities. A being without qualities is unthinkable. There are qualities in every sphere: in the material world, for man eats, drinks, walks, and sleeps; in the intellectual world, for he thinks, judges, and decides; in matters of taste, for he judges things to be beautiful, ugly, or indifferent; and in the moral world, for his desires are righteous or unrighteous, noble or base, good or evil.

And these qualities differ in different men. One loves food which another abhors. The judgment of one is blunt, and of another sharp. One calls handsome what another calls unsightly; good, what another deems evil. Hence there must be a difference in men’s essential conditions, which may spring from their respective tempers, education, occupations, etc. Some men have these differences in common. Men of one group do not consider cursing sinful, but rather seem to enjoy it; those of another abhor it and protest against it. This proves that between these two there must be a difference of something; for without a different cause there can be no different effect. And this difference which causes some men to enjoy cursing and others to abhor it is called the disposition of a man’s personality.

It may be holy or unholy, but never indifferent. Being corrupt and unholy in unregenerate human nature, it can not be holy in the regenerate unless God create it in them. That which is born of the flesh is flesh. All our running and racing, toiling and slaving, can not create in us a holy disposition. God alone can do that. As He has the power by regeneration to change the root of life, so can He also by sanctification change the disposition of the affections. And He could have done this at once, just as in regeneration, by making our nature at once perfect in all its dispositions; but He that giveth no account of any of His matters has not been pleased to do so.

Of course, He delivers His child at once from the bondage of sin; but as a rule the sanctification of his dispositions is gradual except in deceased infants elect, and men converted on their deathbed. In all others the implanting of holy dispositions goes step by step, sometimes even with temporal relapse. Without this increase in Christ there can be no sanctification; and the soul that falls short of sanctification, what ground has it to glory in its election?

X.

Perfect in Parts, Imperfect in Degrees.

And the very God of peace sanctify, you wholly; and I pray God your whole spirit and soul and body be
preserved blameless unto the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ. — 1 Thess. v. 23.

The Scriptural doctrine that sanctification is a gradual process perfected only in death must be maintained clearly and soberly: first, in opposition to the Perfectionist, who says that saints may be ”wholly sanctified” in this life; secondly, to those who deny the implanting of inherent holy dispositions in God’s children.

It should be noticed, therefore, that Sacred Scripture distinguishes sanctification, imperfect in degrees, and sanctification perfect in parts. A normal infant, tho small, is a perfect human being. Of course it must grow, but it has all the parts of the human body. The mental faculties can not be examined, but the bodily members are obviously perfect and complete. The head may not be covered with hair, various members may be still incomplete, but that does not impair its perfection: in a small beginning the constituent parts and members are all present. Hence the child is called perfect in parts.

Yet it is not perfect in degrees, i.e., it has not attained its full growth. It must grow and increase in every respect. And this is a slow and imperceptible progress. A garment fitting perfectly at night is never too small in the morning. One night’s growth is imperceptible. Yet we grow and increase; and until death’s hour the body changes constantly. And this increase and the subsequent decrease of old age affect all the parts equally. It never happens that a child’s arm grows, but not his leg, that his neck expands, while the head remains small. This gradual increase is the expanding force of an inherent vital principle, pervading all the members and every part.

This applies to the children of God in the second birth even more forcibly, for in the divine kingdom are no deformities; all proceed from the hand of their Creator a perfect creation. This perfection is in the parts, i.e., they have what essentially belongs to them. And every member is internally animated and wrought upon from one vital principle, by the Holy Spirit, in such a way that all the parts are affected by it spontaneously. Hence in sanctification holy desires and inclinations must spring from that internal, vital principle in the parts and pervade every member.

In this sense sanctification is a perfect work; not externally, but on God’s part, in that He causes the sanctifying principle to affect every member. He does not first sanctify the will, then the understanding, or first the soul and then the body; but His work embraces the entire new man at once.

But sanctification is imperfect in the degree of its development. When for ten years God has wrought in us, the holy desire must be much stronger than in the beginning. This is the result of growth, of gradual increase, despite many ups and downs, almost imperceptible. Hence there are steps, ascending from less to more with reference to the new man; and descending from more to less in the dying of the old; but in both a gradual change, ever farther from Satan and nearer to God.

"Perfect in parts, imperfect in degrees,” as our godly fathers used to say, by which they illustrated the second birth by comparing it with the first; and in this they simply followed Scripture; which places the perfection of God’s gift alongside the imperfection of our gradual increase. The Catechism expresses it as follows: “Even the holiest men, while in this life, have only small beginnings of this obedience; yet so that with a sincere resolution they begin to live not only according to some, but to all, the commandments of God” (q. 114). St. Paul says that “Christ has given some pastors and some teachers, for the perfecting of saints, for the work of the ministry, for the edifying of the body of Christ; till we all come in the unity of the faith and of the knowledge of the Son of God, unto a perfect man, unto the measure of the stature of the fullness of Christ” (Ephes. iv. 12). In 2 Cor. x. 15 he hopes to be enlarged among them when their faith shall be increased. To the Colossians he writes: “That ye might walk worthy of the Lord, unto all pleasing, being fruitful in every good work, and increasing in the knowledge of God” (Col. i. 10). To the Thessalonians: “Your faith groweth exceedingly, and the charity of every one of you all toward each other aboundeth” (2 Thess. i. 3). The psalmist sings that “the righteous shall flourish as a palm-tree”; and St. Paul says to Timothy, his son in Christ: “Give thyself wholly to these things, that thy perfecting may appear to all” (1 Tim. iv. 15). From his own experience the apostle testifies: “Not as tho I had already attained, but I follow after if that I may apprehend.” And writing to the Corinthians, he draws a picture of the fruit of sanctification, saying: “But we all are changed unto the same image from glory to glory, even as by the Spirit of the Lord.”

But we should not fall in the common error of applying to sanctification what Scripture teaches concerning the “Children” and the “perfect.” This causes confusion. Speaking of different classes of believers, Scripture recognizes the fact that there are different degrees. This appears most clearly from St. John’s first epistle (ii. 12-14), where he addresses believers as “young men” and as “fathers,” evidently with reference to their age, for he places the latter as more mature in spiritual experience above the former. In Heb. v. 13, 14, St. Paul distinguishes the “perfect” who use strong meat, and the “babes” who depend upon milk. To the Corinthians: “Brethren, I could not speak unto you as unto spiritual, but as unto carnal,” i.e., to those who can not bear meat, but who must still be fed with milk (1 Cor. iii. 11ff:). That these words relate to sanctification is evident from what follows: “For ye are yet carnal, whereas there is among you envying and strife (ver. 3). Of himself he testifies: “When I was a child I understood as a child; but when I became a man I put away childish things” (1 Cor. xiii. 11). He exhorts the Ephesians (iv. 14): “Be no more children tossed to and fro with every wind of doctrine”; and among the Philippians he distinguishes the perfect and the not perfect, saying: “Let us, therefore, as many as be perfect, be thus minded” (iii. 15).

Hence the apostle evidently distinguished two classes of believers: those whose condition is normal, and those who are still in a preliminary condition. Scripture designates the former as “perfect,” “adults,” “men and fathers” to whom belongs the strong meat; the latter as “babes,” “young men” who still use the milk.

XI.

The Pietist and the Perfectionist.

“He chastens us for our profit, that we might be partakers of His holiness.”—Heb. xii. 10.

Sanctification is a gracious work of God, whereby in a supernatural way He gradually divests from sin the inclinations and dispositions of the regenerate and clothes them with holiness.

Here we meet a serious objection which deserves our careful attention. To the superficial observer, the spiritual experience of God’s children seems diametrically opposed to this professed gift of sanctification. One says: “Can it be that for more than ten years I have been the subject of a divine operation whereby my desires and inclinations were divested of sin and clothed with holiness? If this is the Gospel, then I belong not to the Lord’s redeemed; for in myself I perceive scarcely any progress; I only know that my first love has become cold and that the inward corruption is appalling. Some dream of progress, but I discover in myself scarcely anything but backsliding. No gain but loss, is the sad footing-up of the account. My only hope is Immanuel my Surety.”

While the experience of a broken heart vents its grief in this way, others exhort us not to encourage spiritual pride. They say: “We should not foster spiritual pride in God’s children, for by nature they are already thus inclined. What is more conducive to spiritual pride than the conceit of an ever-advancing holiness? Is not holiness the highest and most glorious attainment? Is it not our comprehensive prayer to be made partakers of His holiness? And would you have these souls imagine that, since they were converted a number of years ago, they have attained already a considerable degree of this divine perfection? Would you give license to older Christians to feel themselves above their younger brethren? Holiness wants to be noticed; hence you incite them to a display of their good works. What is this but to cultivate a spirit of Pharisaism?

We may not rest until this objection of the sensitive conscience is entirely removed.

Not as tho we could escape all dangers of Pharisaism. This would silence every exhortation to holy living. Light without shadows is impossible; the shadows disappear only in absolute darkness. In the days of the ancient Pharisee, Jerusalem, compared with Rome and Athens, was a God-fearing city. Pharisaism was never more bold than in the days of Jesus. And history shows that the danger of Pharisaism has always been least in the Romish and greatest in the Reformed churches; and among the latter, it is strongest where the name of God is most exalted. Godliness is impossible without the shadow of Pharisaism. The brighter the light and glory of the former, the darker the shadow of the latter. To escape Pharisaism altogether one must descend into the lowest pest-holes of society, where nothing bridles the passions of men.

And this is natural. Pharisaism is not a common corruption, but the mildew of the noblest fruit the earth ever saw—viz., godliness. The circles that are free from Pharisaism also lack the highest good; how, then, could it decay there? And the circles in which this danger is greatest are the very circles in which the highest good is known and exalted.

But, apart from this aimless skirmishing with the Pharisaic phantom, the scruple mentioned above has our heartiest sympathy. If it were true that sanctification so impressed the soul as to incite it to pride, it could not be the real article; for of all unholiness pride is the most abominable. It is David’s sweet and sincere supplication: “Keep back thy servant also from presumptuous sins; let them not have dominion over me; then shall I be upright and shall be innocent from the great transgressions.” (Psalm xix. 13) The fundamental conception of grace is so intimately connected with the idea of becoming a little child, and its gift is so strongly conditioned upon a humble disposition, that the gift which encourages spiritual pride can not be a gift of grace.

But we are confident that the doctrine of sanctification, as presented in these pages according to the Holy Scripture, has nothing in common with this caricature. Since in Paradise sin sprang from the first satanic incitement to pride, and all spiritual and carnal unholiness still grows from that poisonous root, it is evident that the first effect of the implanted, holy disposition must be the humbling of this pride, the pulling down of this stronghold; and at the same time the quickening of a humble, meek, and childlike spirit.

The idea that sanctification consists in inspiring the saint with horror for gross and outward sins, without a previous breaking down of self-conceit, is unscriptural and opposed by the Reformed churches. The Scripture teaches that the Holy Spirit never applies sanctification to the believer without attacking all his sins at once. “A sincere resolution to live not only according to some, but to all the commandments of God” (Heidelberg Catechism).

Of all sins pride is the most accursed, for in all its manifestations it is the transgression of the first commandment. Hence real and divinely wrought sanctification is inconceivable without, first of all, destroying pride, and creating a humble, quiet, self-distrusting, and childlike disposition.

And this solves the whole difficulty. He who fears that gradual sanctification will lead to pride and self-conceit confounds its human counterfeit with the real work divinely wrought. Wherefore, with this objection, he must attack the hypocrite, and not us.

However, a wrong interpretation of what the Scripture calls “flesh” might suggest it. If “flesh” signifies sensual inclinations and bodily appetites, and sanctification consisted almost entirely in warring against these sins, sanctification thus understood might be accompanied by an increase of spiritual pride. But by sinful “flesh” the Scripture denotes the entire man, body and soul, including sins which are spiritual as well as sensual; hence sanctification aims at once at the change of man’s spiritual and sensual inclinations, and first of all at his tendency to pride.

In the preceding article we said that sanctification included a descent as well as an ascent. When the Lord raises us, we also descend. There is no rising of the new man without a death of the old; and every attempt to teach sanctification without doing full justice to both is unscriptural.

We oppose, therefore, the attempts of the Pietist and of the Perfectionist, who say that they have nothing more to do with the old man, that nothing remains in them to be mortified, and that all that is required of them is to hurry the growth of the new man. And we equally oppose the opposite; which admits the dying of the old man, but denies the rising of the new, and that the soul receives all that it lacks.

Every true and lasting conversion, according to our Catechism, must manifest itself in these two parts, viz., a mortification of the old man, and a rising of the new, in equal proportions.

And in answer to the question, “What is the mortification of the old man?” the Heidelberg Catechism answers, “A gradual decrease,” for it says: “It is a sincere sorrow of heart that we have provoked God by our sins; and more and more to hate and flee from them.” While the quickening of the new man is expressed just as positively: “It is a sincere joy of heart in God through Christ, and with love and delight to live according to the will of God in all good works“—a declaration that is repeated in the answer of the 115th question, which thus describes this mortification: “That all our lifetime we may learn more and more to know our sinful nature”; and which speaks of the quickening of the new man as “becoming more and more conformable to the image of God.”

Hence there are two parts, or rather two aspects of the same thing: (1) the breaking down of the old man; (2) a growing conformity to the divine image.

To mortify and to quicken, to kill and to make alive, more and more—this is, according to the Confession of the fathers, the work of the Triune God in sanctification.

Sin is not merely the “lack of righteousness.” As soon as righteousness, goodness, and wisdom disappear, unrighteousness, evil, and folly take their place. As God implanted in man the first three named, so does sin not merely rob him of them, but it puts the last three in their place. Sin did not only kill in Adam the man of God, but also quickened in him the man of sin; hence sanctification must effect in us the very opposite. It must mortify that which sin has quickened, and quicken that which sin has mortified.

If this rule is thoroughly understood, there can be no confusion. Our idea of sanctification necessarily corresponds to our idea of sin. They who consider sin as a mere poison, and deny the loss of original righteousness, are Pietists; they ignore the mortification of the old man, and always busy themselves adorning the new. And they who say that sin is the loss of original righteousness, and deny its positive, evil effects, are inclined to Antinomianism, and reduce sanctification to a fancied emancipation from the old man, rejecting the rising of the new.

Of course, this touches the doctrine of the old man and the new.

The representation that the soul of the converted is an arena where the two are engaged in a hand-to-hand fight is incorrect, and has not a single satisfactory text for its support. We reject the two following representations: that of the Antinomian, who says: “The believing ego is the new man in Christ Jesus; I am not responsible for the old man, the personal, sinful ego; he may sin as much as he please”; and the representation of the Pietist, who considers him still the old man, partly renewed, and who is always busy to remodel him. These two do not belong to Christ’s Church.

The Scripture teaches, not that the old man is sanctified by being changed into the new; but that the old man must be mortified until nothing of him remains. Neither does it teach that in regeneration a small part only of the old man is renewed—the remainder to be patched up gradually—but that an entirely new man is implanted.

This is of greatest importance for the right understanding of these holy things. Sin wrought in us an old man, the body of sin: not merely a part, but the whole, with all that belongs to him, body and soul. Hence that old man must die, and the Pietist with all his works of piety can never galvanize a single muscle in his body. He is altogether unprofitable, and must perish under his just condemnation.

In like manner God graciously regenerates in us a new creature, which is also a complete man. Therefore we may not take the new man as the gradual restoration of the old. The two have nothing in common but the mutual basis of the same personality. The new does not spring from the old, but supersedes him. Being only in the germ, he may be buried in the newly regenerate, but he will arise and then God’s work appears gloriously. God is his Author, Creator, and Father. Not the old man, but the new man cries out: “Abba, Father!”

However, our ego is related to the dying old man and the rising new man. The ego of a non-elect person is identified with the old man; they are the same. But in the consummation of the heavenly glory, the ego of God’s children is identified with the new man.

XII.

The Old Man and the New.

“That we being dead unto sin should
live unto righteousness.”—1 Peter iv. 24.

The Psalmist sings: “They go from strength to strength, every one of them in Zion appeareth before God.” (Psalm lxxxiv. 7) We must maintain this glorious testimony, altho our own experience often seems to contradict it. Not experience, but the Scripture, teaches us divine truth; nor is it as tho the procedure of the divine operation in our own heart could differ from the testimony of the Sacred Scripture, but that our experience often interprets our real spiritual condition incorrectly.

Our knowledge of self is very small. The plummet of our self-consciousness scarcely reaches below the surface, while God’s holy eye penetrates the waters of the soul to the very bottom. We are ignorant of much that takes place in the soul, and what we perceive of it often presents itself to our consciousness as different from what it is in reality. If our self-knowledge were perfect, the testimony of our spiritual experience would be as reliable as that of the Scripture. But this not being so, not even among God’s children, spiritual experience, tho helpful, may never weaken the Word of God. Hence, tho we discover in ourselves an ever-growing weakness, the Scripture testimony is still sure: “They go from strength to strength.”

But who goes from strength to strength? Surely not the old man. It may not be said that regeneration effected a change in him which is constantly increasing, which enables him to make such commendable progress that by divine help he will probably succeed in the end. This is not so. Scripture teaches that the old man is dead, condemned to die forever; that he is incorrigible and can not be restored, saved, or reconciled. He is hopelessly lost. And instead of gradually becoming himself again he must be crucified, slain, and buried. Instead of expecting anything good of him, it should be our glory to die to him and be rid of him.

Neither does the new man go from strength to strength. He is not being put together little by little until he can stand on his own legs; but, since we are to live forever in the new creature, it must be a real man born in us. And as such he can not increase nor decrease; he only slumbers in the germ and must arise.

But my person, as by faith I stand in Christ, must go from strength to strength. That person was once born in the old man, and therefore was born in trespasses and sin, and is a child of wrath by nature. And he would never have come out and escaped from the old man of himself. That he could not do. He was identified with the old man so completely that the latter was his very ego. He had no other life or existence. But in regeneration a change took place. By this divine act our person is in principle detached from his former ego in the old man. The root was notched and, by the constant action of storm and gravitation, the severed parts separated more and more. Our person is no longer identified with the old man, but opposes him. Even tho he succeeds in enticing us again to sin, even in the yielding we do not what we will, but what we hate. Only hear what St. Paul says: “The good which I would I do not, but the evil which I would not that I do. Now, if I do that I would not, it is no more I that do it, but sin that dwelleth in me.” (Rom vii. 19, 20)

Wherefore the child of God must not be identified with the old man after regeneration, for this opposes the plain teaching of the Word. He is the old man no more, but wars against him. As God’s child he is become the new man—not in part, but wholly. “Old things are passed away, behold all things are become new.”[2 Cor. v. 17] In this, and nothing less, is cause of his glorying. His person is passed from death into life. He is translated from the kingdom of darkness into the kingdom of God’s dear Son. He is so fully identified with the new man that, while still living in this world, he is already set with Christ in heaven, where his citizenship is, and where his life is hid with Christ in God.

If the word of the Psalmist does not refer to the old man nor to the new, to whom, then, does it refer? The Scripture answers: to believers, their person, their ego, which, being detached from the old man and opposing him, is identified with the new. They go from strength to strength. It is true the use of “ego” in both senses is apt to confuse one; yet St. Paul does the same thing. He says “I” and “not I “: “I live, yet not I, but Christ liveth in me.” (Gal. ii. 20) The same person who fell in Adam and out of Adam received the old man with whom for a time he was identified, is now changed, translated, and risen with Christ; out of Christ he received a new man, and with that new man he is being more and more identified. Hence he goes from strength to strength.

This identification of our person with the new man is, immediately after regeneration, still very slight; while we are so thoroughly bound to the old man, with almost all the fibers of our being, that it seems as tho he were still our very self. But by the operation of the Holy Spirit we gradually die to the old man, and at the same time the new man is quickened in us more and more. And, since both the dying of the old and the gradual rising of the new man are profitable to our person, the Holy Spirit testifies concerning His own work that we, God’s children, go from strength to strength until every one of us in Zion appeareth before God. It refers not only to our growing into the new man, but just as much to our gradual deliverance from the dying old man. In both it is the same working; hence both afford us increase of strength.

We consider first the dying of the old man as far as it relates to sanctification.

This dying has no reference to our own activity, alluded to by the office of baptism, “That we manfully fight and overcome sin and the devil and all his dominion”; on the contrary, it refers to the fruit of the cross of Christ. The question, “What further benefit do we receive from the sacrifice and death of Christ on the cross?” the Reformed Church answers: “That by virtue thereof our old man is crucified, and buried with Him; that so the corrupt inclinations of the flesh may no more reign in us” (Heidelberg Catechism, q. 43). Hence the dying of the old man is not the fruit of our labor; but Christ accomplishes it in us by virtue of His cross through the Holy Spirit.

In order to effect this in us the Holy Spirit diverts our personal affections, inclinations, and dispositions from the old man, to whom hitherto they have been ardently attached, so that now we begin to hate him.

It is possible for friendship to die. We may have been intimate with a person whom we afterward discovered to be a bad character. Then not only is the friendship broken, but our affection ceases. We regret our former intimacy, and we despise him all the more cordially as he proves to be more deceitful and malicious. And this applies to our relation with the old man. Formerly we were most intimate with him. We shared his will, his sympathies, and his affections. We lived one life with him. We felt ourselves bound to him by the tenderest ties. We could not be happy but in his company. But there came a change. We acquired a different taste. We became acquainted with another and better man—viz., the new man in Christ Jesus—and we became very intimate with him. And this noble intercourse discovered to us the thorough baseness and corruption of the old man. Then our love ceased and we began cordially to hate him.

It is true that our former connection brings us in frequent contact with him. On such occasions he often entices us by his cunning, but not to our delight; and being only half willing, our souls protest; and as soon as the sin is committed we are filled with self-loathing and contrition.

And this reversal of our affections is not our work, but that of the Holy Spirit. Not that we deny that He often uses us as instruments, or prompts us to exert ourselves, but the changing of our inclinations is not our work, but the direct operation of God the Holy Spirit.

How it is performed we can understand but partly. Essentially it is a mystery, just as much as regeneration. Being God, the Holy Spirit has access to our heart, He discovers our personality, the nature of our affections, and in what way their action may be reversed. But our inability to fathom this mystery does not in the least affect our faith in the matter.

Since the dying of the old man is effected, not by our good works, but by the implanting of a disposition and inclination repugnant to the old man, our own work is entirely out of the question; for our own heart is inaccessible to us. We have no power over our inward person; we lack the means to create another inclination; and when we deny this we are self-deceived. God the Creator alone can do this, and in doing it He is irresistible. Hatred against the old man, once having entered the soul, is a power that simply overwhelms us. Even when enticed by him; we can not but hate him.

XIII.

The Work of God in Our Work.

“And the very God of peace sanctify you wholly; and I pray God your whole spirit and soul and body be preserved blameless unto the coming of the Lord Jesus Christ.”—1 Thess. v. 23.

The difference between sanctification and good works should be well understood.

Many confound the two, and believe that sanctification means to lead an honorable and virtuous life; and, since this is equal to good works, sanctification, without which no man shall see God, is made to consist in the earnest and diligent effort to do good works.

But this reasoning is false. The grape should not be confounded with the vine, lightning with thunder, the birth with the conception, any more than sanctification with good works. Sanctification is the kernel from which the blade and full ear of good works shall spring; but this does not identify the kernel with the blade. The former lies in the ground and by its fibers attaches itself to the furrow internally. The latter shoots from the ground externally and visibly. So is sanctification the implanting of the germ, of the disposition, and inclination which shall produce the blossom and fruit of a good work.

Sanctification is God’s work in us, whereby He imparts to our members a holy disposition, inwardly filling us with delight in His law and with repugnance to sin. But good works are acts of man, which spring from this holy disposition. Hence sanctification is the source of good works, the lamp that shall shine with their light, the capital of which they are the interest.

Allow us to repeat it: “sanctification“ is a work of God; “Good works” are of men. “Sanctification” works internally; “good works” are external. “Sanctification“ imparts something to man; “good works” take something out of him. “Sanctification” forces the root into the ground; to do “good works” forces the fruit out of the fruitful tree. To confound these two leads the people astray.

The Pietist says: “Sanctification is man’s work; it can not be insisted upon with sufficient emphasis. It is our best effort to be godly.” And the Mystic maintains: “We can not do good works, and may not insist upon them for man is unable; God alone works them in him independently of him.”

Of course, both are equally wrong and unscriptural. The former, in reducing sanctification to good works, takes it out of God’s hand and lays it upon man, who never can perform it; and the latter, in making good works take the place of sanctification, releases man from the task laid on him and claims that God will perform it. Both errors must be opposed.

Both sanctification and good works should receive recognition. Ministers of the Word, and through them the people of God, should understand that sanctification is an act of God that He performs in man; and that God has commanded man to do good works to the glory of His name. And this will have twofold effect: (1) God’s people will acknowledge their complete inability to receive a holy disposition otherwise than as a gift of free grace, and then they will earnestly pray for this grace. (2) They will pray that His elect, in whom this work is already wrought, may show it forth in God-glorifying works: “Chosen in Christ Jesus, that we should be holy and without blame before Him in love” (Ephes. i. 4).

Tho this distinction is very clear, two things may cause confusion:

First, the fact that holiness may be attributed to the good works themselves. One may be holy, but also do holy works. The Confession speaks of the “many holy works which Christ has done for us and in our stead” (art. 22). Hence holiness maybe external and internal.

The following passages refer, not to sanctification, but to good works: “Seeing that all these things shall be dissolved, what manner of persons ought ye to be in all holy conversation?” (2 Peter iii. 11). “As He which hath called you is holy, so be you holy in all manner of conversation” (1 Peter i. 15). “That we being delivered out of the hands of our enemies, may serve Him without fear, in holiness and righteousness all the days of our life” (Luke i. 75).

We find that the word “holy” is used of both our inward disposition and of its result, the outward life. It may be said of the spring as well as of the water, that it contains iron; of the tree as well as of the fruit, that it is good; of the candle as well as of the light, that it is bright. And, since holiness may be attributed to both the inward disposition and the outward life, sanctification may be understood as referring to the sanctification of our life. This may lead to the supposition that an outwardly blameless life is the same thing as sanctification. And if this is so, then sanctification is but a duty imposed, and not a gift imparted. It should therefore be carefully noticed that the sanctification of the mind, affections, and dispositions is not our work, but God’s; and that the holy life which springs from it is ours.

Second, the other cause of confusion is the many Scripture passages that exhort and encourage us to sanctify, purify, and perfect our lives, yea, even “to perfect our holiness” (2 Cor. vii. 1); to “yield ourselves as servants to holiness” (Rom. vi. 19); and to be “unblamable in holiness” (1 Thess. iii. 13), etc.

And we should not weaken these passages, as the Mystics do; who say that these texts mean, not that we should yield our members, but that God Himself will take special care that they be so yielded. These are tricks that lead men to trifle with the Word. It is an abuse of the Scripture for the sake of introducing one’s own theories under the cover of divine authority. The preachers who for fear of imposing responsibilities upon men abstain from exhortation, and dull the edge of the divine commandments by representing them as promises, take a heavy responsibility upon themselves.

For altho we know that no man bas ever performed a single good work without God, who wrought in him both to will and to do; altho we heartily agree with the Confession, “That we are beholden to God for our good works and not God to us” (art. 24); and rejoice with the holy apostle in the fact, “That God has before ordained the good works that we should walk therein” (Eph. ii. 10); yet this does not absolve us from the duty of exhorting the brethren.

It is a fact that God is pleased to use man as an instrument, and by the spur of his own ability and responsibility to incite him to activity. A cavalryman on the battle-field is fully aware how much he depends upon the good services of his horse; and also that the animal can not run unless God enabled it. Being a godly man, he prays before mounting that the Lord enable his horse to bring him victory; but after he is mounted, with spur and knee, rein and voice, he uses all his strength to make the horse do what it should do. And the same is true of sanctification. Unless the breath of the Lord blow through the garden of the soul, not a leaf can stir. The Lord alone performs the work from the beginning to the end. But He performs, it partly by the aid of means; and the instrument chosen is often man himself, who cooperates with God. And to this human instrumentality the Scripture refers when, in connection with sanctification, it admonishes us to good works.

As in nature God gives the seed and the forces in the soil and rain and sunshine to mature the fruit of the earth, while at the same time He uses the farmer to perfect His work, so it is also in sanctification: God causes it to work effectually; but He employs the human instrument to cooperate with Him, as the saw works together with him that handles it.

However, this should not be understood as tho in sanctification God had made Himself absolutely dependent upon the human instrument. This is impossible; by nature man can indeed mar sanctification, but never further it. By nature he hates and opposes it. Moreover, he is absolutely unable to produce from his own corrupt nature anything for his growth in sanctification. His instrumental cooperation should therefore not be abused either by ascribing to man a power for good, or to obscure the work of God.

Careful discrimination is necessary. He that implants the holy disposition is the Lord. The combined exertions of all these instruments could not implant one single feature of the holy mind, any more than all the carpenter’s tools together could draw the molding of one panel. The artist paints upon the canvas; but with all their exertions his palette, brush, and paint-box could never draw a single figure. The sculptor molds the image; but of themselves his chisel; mallet, and stool can not detach a single chip from the rough marble. To engrave the features of holiness in the sinner is a work in the highest sense artistic, unspeakably divine. And the Artist who executes it is the Lord as St. Paul calls Him, the Artist and Architect of the City which has foundations. The fact that the Lord is pleased to use instruments for some parts of the work does not impart to them any value, much less any ability to accomplish anything of themselves without the Artist. He is the only Worker.

XIV.

The Person Sanctified.

“The putting off of the body of the sins of the flesh.”—Col. ii. 11.

Sanctification embraces the whole man, body and soul, with all the parts, members, and functions that belong to each respectively. It embraces his person and, all of his person. This is why sanctification progresses from the hour of regeneration all through life, and can be completed only in and through death.

St. Paul prays for the church of Thessalonica: “The God of peace sanctify you wholly, and may your whole spirit and soul and body be preserved blameless unto the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ.” (1 Thess. v. 23) Sanctification is essentially a work of one piece, simply because our person is not pieced together, but is organically one in all its parts.

The sinner’s holiness or unholiness embraces his whole being. He is a sinner not only in his body, but in his soul, and even more so and in his soul not only because his will is unholy, but also because his understanding is unholy, and even more so. The memory, the imagination, and all that belongs to him as a man are radically defiled, desecrated, and corrupted by sin. He lies in the midst of death. Even in a small child, every part is affected. Without the least exertion he learns a street-song, while it seems almost impossible to commit one stanza of a psalm.

If sanctification has reference to the inherited stain, as justification to the inherited guilt, it follows that sanctification must extend as far as the inherited stain. If man’s entire person is covered with the poison of the stain, it must be covered much more abundantly by sanctification.

Sin is disturbance, derangement, discord, and warfare in home and heart, and is not overcome completely until superseded by holy peace. This is the reason why St. Paul calls the God of sanctification the God of peace; and so he prays for the Church that the God of peace sanctify them wholly, or literally, “unto the full end,” so that the end of sanctification may be accomplished in them perfectly.

This is not the place to discuss the opinion held by many, that 1 Thess. v. 23 teaches trichotomy, i.e., the threefold division of man’s being. Let this only be observed, that it does not read, “Ehdpopovs,” “in all your parts,” followed by the summing up of those parts, spirit, soul, and body; but that it reads “O2.OTEXEGS,” which refers, not to the parts, but to the final end, “TEXOS.” Moreover, it should be noticed that in those passages which oppose the spiritual man to the natural—i.e., the pneumatical to the psychical, as in 1 Cor. ii. 14, 15—the word “rvevpa” indicates the new life-principle, of which it never can be said that it be preserved blameless. For this 'rvevjua “ is sinless by nature. Calvin explains “spirit” and “soul” by making them to refer to our rational and moral existence as beings endowed with reason and volition, both modes of the soul’s existence.

However, the starting-point of this grace lies not in the body, but in the soul. Sin started in the soul, not in the body; hence the mortification of sin must also begin in the soul.

It is directed, first of all, to the consciousness and to its faculties of cognition, contemplation, reflection, and judgment. Sanctification proceeds, not from the will, but from the consciousness. Sanctification is to make conformable to the will of God, and this requires, in the first place, that His good and perfect and acceptable will become a living reality to the consciousness, conviction, and conscience. The things of which one is ignorant do not affect him; but ignorance of the divine will is sin, and this must be overcome first of all.

But how? By committing to memory? By learning the Catechism? By no means. The sanctification of the consciousness consists in God’s act of writing His law in our hearts. True, there are still a few traces of that law written in the sinner’s heart, as the apostle writes that the Gentiles who are without the law are a law unto themselves; but this is at the most but the fermentation of a higher principle in a sinful person which can not maintain itself. The Nihilist and Communist of the day show to what extent the heart may lose the sense of the first principles of right and righteousness. But when the Scripture promises that the Lord shall write the law in their hearts, and that they shall teach no more every man his neighbor, saying, “Know the Lord, for all shall know him from the least unto the greatest,” (Heb. viii. 11) it offers us something entirely different and far more glorious. And this is accomplished, not by outward study, but by inward apprehension; not by an exercise of the memory, but by a renewing of the mind, as St. Paul writes: “Be not conformed to this world, but be ye transformed by the renewing of your mind, that ye may prove what is that good and acceptable and perfect will of God.”

Ezekiel prophesied of this renewing of the mind when he said: “A new heart also will I give you, and a new spirit will I put within you.” (Ezek. xxxvi. 26) Instruction formerly received may be used as a means to that end; but the instruction which the human spirit receives in sanctification is not human, but divine. Hence it is said: “They are taught of the Lord” (Isa. liv. 13); “Every man, therefore, that hath heard and learned of the Father cometh unto Me” (John vi. 45); “I will put My law into their minds, and will write it in their hearts.” (Jer. xxxi. 33)

Since the books of Moses emphasize the fact that the tables of the law were written, not by Moses, Aholiab, nor Bezaliel, but directly by God’s own finger, it follows from the nature of the case that the Scripture intends to present this writing upon the tables of the heart, not as the work of man, but as the direct work of God. The sanctification of the human consciousness is wrought in us by God in a divine, unfathomable, and irresistible way; but not independently of the Word, for that Word itself is divine, and the preaching of the Word is divinely ordained and instituted. But, since the Word and the preaching can only present the matter to the consciousness, it is the Holy Ghost who makes the heart to understand it, declares it to the consciousness, works conviction, and causes the consciousness to assent to it, and thus enables it to feel the pressure which proceeds from that which is written on the heart.

Hence the sanctification of the consciousness consists, not only in receiving new knowledge, and in being impressed with quickened conceptions, but also in having the reason qualified for the exercise of entirely different functions. For the natural man does not understand the things of the Spirit of God; but the spiritual man, i.e., he whose consciousness is regenerated, sanctified and enlightened discerns all things; for such a man, says St. Paul, has the mind of Christ.

However, the sanctification of our consciousness does not complete the sanctification of our person. On the contrary, for altho the will is absolutely dependent upon the consciousness, yet even the will itself is corrupted by sin. It did not lose its functional operation; but, as in the sinner the judgment still judges and the feeling still feels, so is the will still able to will. But its ability to reach out in every direction is lost; and the calamity has befallen us that by nature we can not will what God wills.

And that stiffness and hardness which prevent the will’s free action in this respect must be removed. The Scripture calls this the taking away of the stony heart and the giving of a heart of flesh which is no longer hard and insensible. Where sin had bound the will by inclining it to evil, thereby depriving it of the power of bending in the opposite direction, i.e., toward God, the gracious gift of sanctification now comes to relieve that bending over to hell, and to give it power to incline to God.

Formerly our knowledge and conviction of the oughtness of things did not avail; for they left our will powerless as a chained wheel, unable to turn in the right direction. But not only had the consciousness a better idea of and clearer insight into the oughtness of things, and we had assented to it, but the will was also inclined by correct volition to choose the good; then the work of God had attained its end, had accomplished its purpose; and had changed the whole man.

And thus man regains also control over his passions. Every man has passions and propensities which sin has made unruly and uncontrollable. In fact, man is their toy; they can use him as they please. It is true the unconverted sometimes succeed in curbing and muzzling one passion, but always by becoming more hopelessly the slaves of another. Dissipation is conquered only by the excitement of avarice; sensuality by cherishing inward pride; anger by nursing the thirst for revenge. Kamosh is cast out only to make room for Molech; the north wind conjured away only to be followed by a blast from the east.

But the passions of the saint are controlled in a different way. Sanctification gives them another direction. He feels their whip and spur, but they are to him the violence of a foreign power. Wherefore St. Paul declares “It is no more I that do it, but sin that dwelleth in me.” (Rom. vii. 17, 20) And no passion can overtake him which in the power of God he can not master and control.

XV.

Good Works.

“For we are His workmanship, created in Christ Jesus unto good works, which God hath before ordained that we should walk in them.” Ephes. ii. 10.

Good works are the ripe fruit from the tree which God has planted in sanctification.

In the saint there is life; from that life workings proceed; and those workings are either good or evil. Hence good works are not added to sanctification for mere effect, but belong to it. The discussion of sanctification is not complete without the discussion of Good Works.

Whatever man may be, works always proceed from him; and since works are never neutral, but either conform or do not conform to the divine law, it follows that every man’s works are either good or evil, actual sins (Peccata actualia)or good works. In fact, every life has its own energizing. Without it it is no life. Properly speaking, life in the saint does not proceed from sanctification, but sanctification lends it tone, color, and character.

In a garden where the conditions are all equal, and there is the same soil, the same fertilizer, etc., different fruit-trees are planted. Evidently, the working that makes the trees grow is from the soil; for if planted in the garret, they will not grow. But the cause that produces peaches on one tree and grapes on another is not in the soil, but in the trees. Hence we must distinguish the working itself from the shade, the tone, the character, the peculiar property which that working assumes. The wind that produces sweetest music from the Eolian harp, by blowing through a broken window-pane produces doleful sounds. It is one operation but different effects. In the meadow next to the tender clover grows the poisonous wolf’s-milk. Yet both lift their little heads from the same soil and drink in the same air, sunlight, and rain. Altho the vital energy is the same, the difference in the seeds causes differences in the plants, and opposite effects.

The same applies to the garden of the soul, where the human life is in full activity. But that same human life produces a base act to-day and a heroic act to-morrow. There is but one working, but the colors vary, it may be white or black, dark or light.

And this we find, that in the garden of the soul all spontaneous growth is a growth of weeds; while the seed which God has planted produces precious fruit. The effects of sanctification are evident. It causes sweet waters to flow from a bitter fountain. It lends to every operation its own quality and property, and gives it a direction which works for good. And thus good works proceed from the man lost in himself.

Of course, in the root, this apparently identical working is twofold. One springs from the old nature, the other from the new; the one from the natural, the other from the supernatural. But since this distinction was discussed at large in the chapter on Regeneration, we treat it now simply from the unity of the person:

Altho we heartily agree with the Confession, “That a regenerated person has in him a twofold life: the one temporal and corporeal, that which he has from the first birth and is common to all men; the other spiritual and heavenly, which is given him in the second birth, and which is peculiar to God’s elect” (art. 35); yet this does not affect the unity of the person, nor does it alter the fact that the operations of both the old and the new life are my operations. If I divide my person, and take the natural and the supernatural each by itself, then there is no sanctification at all; for the corrupt life of my old nature is not sanctified, but crucified, dead, and buried; and my heavenly, spiritual, and regenerated life can not be sanctified inasmuch as it never was sinful nor ever can be. Hence in sanctification we have to consider life from the viewpoint of the unity and indivisibility of the person. The man who was first wedded to the corrupt nature, and who is now wedded to the new man, was then evil and is now to become good; wherefore his life must receive the holy desire, inclination, and disposition. And then only it is possible for it to produce good works.

A work is good when it is conformable to the divine law.

1. The first point is that God alone possesses the right to determine what is good or evil.

XVI.

Self-Denial.

“If any man will come after Me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross, and follow Me.”—Matt. xvi. 24.

Good works are not the saint’s sanctification, any more than drops of water are the fountain; but they spring as crystal drops from the fountain of sanctification. They are good, not when the saint intends them to be good, but when they conform to the divine law and proceed from a true faith. Yet the intention is of great importance; the Church has always taught that a work could not be called good unless it is directed to the glory of God.

This is a vital point which must animate and give direction to the whole matter: only to the glory of God. Every other intention makes the good work evil. Even the effort to do good works is impossible without the “Soli Deo Gloria.”

This is the reason why so many well-meant efforts at so-called sanctification become sinful. For the man who applies himself earnestly and diligently to good works, solely to attain a holier status and thus become a holier person, has lost his reward. His end in view is not God, but himself; and while every good work humbles a man and real sanctification leads to the breaking down and casting out of self, this wrongly planned sanctification causes self-exaltation and spiritual pride.

To think that by self-sanctification God is honored and His glory exalted is self-deception. The divine honor and majesty are so holy and exalted that His glory must be the direct end in view. To work for self-sanctification directly, and for His honor indirectly, is unworthy of His holiness.

The end and aim of all things must be the Lord God alone. Justice must dwell in the land, not only to preserve order, but to remove iniquity from before, the presence of the Lord. The missionary cause must be supported not only to convert souls, but to summon the nations to appear in Zion before God. Prayer must be offered not only to obtain the good which is bestowed without prayer, but because every creature, morning and evening, must lie in the dust, crying, “Holy, holy, holy is the Lord!” making the whole earth full of His glory. And hence every creature must do good works, and all the children of God can do good works; not that they may become a little more holy, but that the glory of holiness might shine to the praise of our God.

3. This third point should therefore never be omitted. Tho our works are according to the law and of faith, but not directed to the glory of God, they can not please Him. It avails nothing, tho the bow be strongly bent and the cord of the best material, if the arrow upon the cord be not turned in the right direction.

The doctrine of Good Works touches the most delicate and most sensitive of our internal emotions, viz., self-denial.

Superficial minds, poor in grace and godliness, speak of self-denial but rarely, and then without understanding its meaning. They think that it consists in making room for others; in argument to be the least; to renounce pleasure or profit for a higher purpose; to care for others, not for self. Surely this is a precious fruit; earnestly to be desired; and if it were found more abundantly among the children of God we should thank Him for it. But, alas! there is such leanness of soul even in the most earnest, so much selfishness, ambition, anger, confidence in the creature, that every manifestation of nobler impulse has a most refreshing effect.

But the question now before us is this, whether such making room for others, such self-sacrifice, deserves the name of self-denial. And the answer must be a most emphatic “No!” The saint’s self-denial has reference, not to man, but to God, and for this reason it is superlatively high and holy, difficult and almost impossible.

Of course God’s child loves his heavenly Father, but not with an unalterable love. In spite of his love he is sometimes very unlovely. Still, when the question echoes through his soul, “Simon Bar-Jonah, lovest thou Me?” (John xxi. 15-17) and he feels tempted by self-reproach to say, “No, Lord,” then the response flashes from the bottom of his soul against all contradiction: “Yes, Lord, Thou knowest that I love Thee.” (John xxi. 17)

Therefore nothing would seem more natural than to find pleasure in denying himself for God’s sake. And this is actually the case. He spends his happiest moments in sincere self-denial; for then he is never alone, but always with Jesus, whom he follows. Then he realizes the holiness and transcendent glory of the claim: “If any man will come after Me, let him deny himself, take up his cross, and follow Me.” (Matt. xvi. 24; Mark viii. 34; Luke ix. 23)

But while the blessedness of his former self-denials is still fresh in his memory, when called to a new act of the same nature he shrinks from it and finds it almost impossible. Self-denial extends so far. Its depths can not be fathomed. When the plummet has descended the whole length of the line, there is still such a yawning depth beneath that actually the bottom is never touched. It refers, not to a few things, but to all things. It embraces our entire life and existence, with all that is in us, of us, and around us; our entire environment, reputation, position, influence, and possession; it includes all the ties of blood and affection that bind us to wife and children, parents and brothers, friends and associates; all our past, present, and future; all our gifts, talents, and endowment; all the ramifications and extensions of our outward and inward life; the rich life of the soul and the tenderest emotions of our holier impulses; our conflict and our strife; our faith, hope, and love—yea, our inheritance in the Son, our place in the mansions above, and the crown which the righteous judge shall one day give us; and as such, in that entire scope of life, we must deny ourselves before God.

We are, to use an illustration, in all our life and existence like a fruit-tree, broadly rooted, full grown, planted in fertile soil, adorned with a crown of many branches and a glorious roof of leaves; and like that tree with its roots far and wide in the earth, and its branches high and broad in the air, are we deeply rooted, possessing an existence obtained by means of money, reputation, property, and descent, faith, hope, love, and the promises of God. And to that whole tree, to that entire unit, from deepest root to highest bough, which as our ego, full of might and majesty, stands before our consciousness and in our life, to all this the ax must be laid; of all this the self-denying soul must say: “God is all and I am nothing.”

Many say, “This is correct and exactly my idea,” and say it quite too often; for when these most difficult and excellent words again and again pass the lips as mere hollow sounds, they strike a discord to the earnest, sensitive soul. But when we grasp the thought as an actual fact, then we find that this denial of our entire existence and being is almost entirely beyond our grasp. Self can minify itself to such extent that we really think that it is gone and denied, while at the same time it stands behind our back, grinning with Satanic glee. Self, big and inflated, is not hard to deny. In this way the unconverted stands before God, but not the saint. That has been taken from him. Such is no more the impulse of his desire. But self shrunk, reduced partly unclothed, hiding behind pious emotions and piles of good works, is extremely dangerous. For what more is there to be denied? There is scarcely anything left. He seeks no longer the world, nor his own glory; his only end in view is the glory of God. At least, so he thinks. But he is mistaken. Self is there still. It is like a spring tightly bent for a time, but only to rebound with accumulated force. And what was called self-denial is really nothing else than self taking care of its own. And that is the worst of it, self is so dangerously cunning. The heart of man is “deceitful above all things and desperately wicked; who can know it?”

When we are inclined to sin, self leaves its hiding-place and with all its power labors hard to make us sin. But when the Holy Spirit woos and constrains us, weaning us from sin, then, slunk in a corner, it hides itself, decoying us into the delusion that it has ceased to be. It is then that, with evident satisfaction, deluded piety asks whether the denial of self is not complete.

But the true saint is known by this: while the self-deluded one is satisfied with this spiritual trickery, he is not. He discovers the trick. Then he reproaches himself. He drives self from, its place of concealment. He scolds and cursed that evil being that always stands between him and his God. And with groans he supplicates. “Almighty, merciful, and gracious God, have mercy upon me.”

Self-denial is not an outward act, but an inward turning of our being. As the steamship is turned about by the rudder, which is swung by the means of a wheel, so there is within our being a rudder, or whatever you may call it, which is turned by a small wheel, and as we turn the entire craft either leeward or windward, we deny either self or God. In its deepest sense we always deny either the one or the other. When we stand well we deny self; in all other cases we deny God. And the internal wheel by which we turn the entire craft of our ego is our intention. The rudder determines the course of the ship; not its rigging and cargo; nor the character of the crew, but its direction, the destination of the voyage, its final haven. Hence, when we see our craft steering away from God, we swing the rudder the other way and compel it to turn toward God.

Notice the rigging and the cargo. The former may be magnificent: excellent talent, superior mind, a rich state of grace. The latter may be very precious: a treasure of knowledge, of moral power, of consecrated love, of melting and adoring piety. And yet with that excellent rigging and that precious cargo, we can steer our craft away from God and aim at self. Then only is there self-denial when, without regard to rigging and lading, a man causes his craft to run directly to the glory of God.

The intention is everything. And it is this very intention which can so bitterly mislead us. That small wheel of our intentions is so exceedingly sensitive that a mere touch of the finger can reverse its action. This is why we are such ready believers in the goodness and beauty of our intentions.

Hence the need of deep, correct, intimate knowledge of self. And who possesses this? And since by His light the Holy Spirit constantly refines and chastens our self-knowledge, is it not perfectly natural that, while to-day we imagine ourselves to be quite advanced in self-denial, only next week we discover how bitterly mistaken we are?

To seek and look for one’s highest good and eternal salvation, not in every creature, but in God; to use spiritual or material gifts not for ourselves, but for His glory; to esteem all perishable things of no account compared to the eternal; unwilling to be one’s own lord, but as God’s servant to enter His employ; no longer to possess any precious things, as money or treasure, or even one’s children, as one’s own, but to know oneself the appointed steward of the Lord; to have no more care or anxious thought; but renouncing every trust in man, in capital or fixed income, or in any other creature, to trust only and solely in the faithful God; to be at peace with one’s lot and with God’s will; and, finally, to direct all intentions and emotions away from oneself upon the Beloved and Glorious One,—is this not far-reaching? And can our own progress in regard to it ever satisfy us?

And yet such self-denial is required to render our works good works indeed, in which the angels can rejoice.