READER, If thou intendest to go any farther, I would entreat thee to stay here a little. If thou art as many in this pretending age, a sign or title gazer, and comest into books as Cato into the theatre, to go out again–thou hast had thy entertainment. Farewell! JOHN OWEN
I. DISCUSSIONS AND MEDITATIONS
ARGUMENT AND FORCE[1]
THE course of opposing errors and false spirits by praying, preaching, and writing, is despised by them in whose furious and haughty minds ure, seca, occide, ‘burn, cut, and kill,’ are alone of any signification–that think, ‘Arise, Peter, kill and eat,’ to be a precept of more use and advantage unto them than all the commands of Jesus Christ besides.–[From A Discourse on the Holy Spirit, Bk. I. ch. i.]
For men to act herein in a way of domination, with a visible elation of mind and spirit above their brethren; with anger, wrath, and passion; by rules, order, and laws of their own devising, without the least consideration of what the Lord Christ requires, and what is the frame of his heart towards all his disciples–is to reflect the highest dishonour imaginable upon Christ himself. He who comes into the courts of the king in Westminster Hall, when filled with judges, grave, learned, and righteous, must ordinarily be allowed to judge of the king himself, his wisdom, justice, moderation, and clemency, by the law which they proceed upon and their manner of administration of it. But God forbid that Christians should make a judgement concerning the holiness, wisdom, love and compassion of Christ, by the representation which, as is pretended, is made of him and them in some courts wherein Church rule and discipline is administered! When any had offended of old, their censure by the Church was called the bewailing of them [2 Cor. xii. 21.]; and that because of the sorrow, pity, and compassion whereby, in that censure, they evidenced the compassion of the Lord Christ towards the souls of sinners. This is scarce answered by those pecuniary mulcts and other penalties, which, with indignation and contempt, are inflicted on such as are made offenders, whether they will or no. Certainly, those who love the Lord Jesus Christ in sincerity, and have a due honour for the gospel, will, at one time or another, begin to think meet that this stain of our religion should be washed away.[2]–[From Owen’s posthumous treatise on The True Nature of a Gospel Church.]
ASSURANCE
EVANGELICAL assurance is not a thing that consisteth in any point, and so incapable of variation. It may be higher or lower, greater or less, obscure or attended with more evidence. It is not quite lost when it is not quite at its highest. God sometimes marvellously raiseth the souls of his saints with some close and near approaches unto them–gives them a sense of his enternal love, a taste of the embraces of his Son and the inhabitation of the Spirit, without the least intervening disturbance; then this is their assurance. But this life is not a season to be always taking wages in; our work is not yet done; we are not always to abide in this mount; we must down again into the battle–fight again, cry again, complain again. Shall the soul be thought now to have lost its assurance? Not at all. It had before assurance with joy, triumph, and exultation; it hath it now, or may have, with wrestling, cries, tears, and supplications. And a man’s assurance may be as good, as true, when he lies on the earth with a sense of sin, as when he is carried up to the third heaven with a sense of love and fortaste of glory.–[From An Exposition upon Psalm cxxx.]
CATHOLICISM, THE GENUINE
UNLESS men can prove that we have not the Spirit of God, that we do not savingly believe in Jesus Christ, that we do not sincerely love all the saints, his body, and every member of it, they cannot disprove our interest in the Catholic Church. Whilst I know this one thing, that whereas I was blind, now I see, I shall not certainly be moved with the disputes of men that would persuade me I do not belong to the Catholic Church, because I do not follow this or that or any party of men in the world. . . .
Here then I propose to rest, in this doth my conscience acquiesce. Whilst I have any comfortable persuasion, on grounds infallible, that I hold the head, and that I am by faith a member of the mystical body of Christ; whilst I make profession of all the necessary saving truths of the gospel; whilst I disturb not the peace of that particular Church whereof by my own consent I am a member, nor do raise up nor continue in any causless differences with them, or any of them, with whom I walk in the fellowship and order of the gospel; whilst I labour to exercise faith towards the Lord Jesus Christ and love towards all the saints–I do keep the unity which is of the appointment of Christ. And let men say, from the principles utterly foreign to the gospel, what they please or can to the contrary, I am no schismatic.[3]–[On Schism.]
‘Be not deceived; no idolaters shall inherit the kingdom of God.’[1 Cor. vi. 9-10.] ‘Without are idolators.’ [Rev. xxii. 15.] This added to their lives that made Christian religion, where known only as by them professed, to be an abomination to Jews and Gentiles. Some will one day, besides himself, answer for Averro?s thus determining of the case as to his own soul: ‘Quoniam Christiani adorant quod comedunt, anima mea sit cum philosophis.’–[On Schism.]
Athenaeus tells us of one Thrasilaus, an Athenian, who being frenetically distempered, whatever ships came into the Piraeus he looked on them and thought them his own, and rejoiced as the master of so great wealth, when he was not the owner of so much as a boat. Such a distemper of pride and folly hath in like manner seized upon those persons with whom we have to do, that wherever in Scripture they meet with the name church, presently, as though they were intended by it, they rejoice in the privilege of it, when their concernment lies not at all therein.–[On Schisms.]
How powerful and prevalent the last voice of this church may prove, I know not. The motto of some great potentates on their great guns is, ‘Vox ultima regum,”the last voice of kings.’ That of this church is, ‘Fire and fagot.’ Wherewith I pray and hope that they shall never more be heard to speak in England.–[From The Church of Rome no safe Guide.]
It is the universal, collective body of them that profess the gospel throughout the world which we own as the Catholic Church of Christ. . . . Whatever share we are forced to bear in differences with or divisions from the members of this Church, as it is a continual sorrow and trouble unto us, so we acknowledge it to be our duty to endeavour after the strictest communion with them in all spiritual things that the gospel doth require, or whereof our condition in this world is capable.
In the meantime, were Christians duly instructed how many lesser differences, in mind and judgement and practice, are really consistent with the nature, ends, and genuine fruit of the unity that Christ requires among them, it would undoubtedly prevail with them so to manage themselves in their differences by mutual forbearance and condescension in their love, as not to contract the guilt of being disturbers or breakers of it. To speak plainly, among all the churches in the world which are free from idolatry and persecution, it is not different opinions, or a difference in judgement about revealed truths, not a different practice in sacred administrations, but pride, self-interest, love of honour, reputation, and dominion, with the influence of civil or political intrigues and considerations, that are the true cause of that defect of evangelical unity that at this day amongst them.–[From A Discourse concerning Evangelical Love, Church Peace, and Unity.]
CHRIST, THE PERSON OF
IF we satisfy ourselves in mere notions and speculations about the glory of Christ as doctrinally revealed unto us, we shall find no transforming power or efficacy communicated to us thereby. But when, under the conduct of that spiritual light, our affections do cleave unto him with full purpose of heart, our minds are filled with the thoughts of him and delight in him, and faith is kept up unto its constant exercise in trust and affiance on him–virtue will proceed from him to purify our hearts, increase our holiness, strengthen our graces, and to fill us sometimes ‘with joy unspeakable and full of glory.’[4] This is the just temperature of a state of spiritual health–namely, when our light of the knowledge of the glory of God in Christ doth answer the means of it which we enjoy, and our affections unto Christ do hold proportion unto that light; and this according unto the various degrees of it–for some have more, and some have less. Where light leaves the affections behind, it ends in formality or atheism; and where affections outrun light, they sink in the bog of superstition, doting on images and pictures, or the like.
. . . . . .
He leads not in heaven a life of mere glory, majesty, and blessedness, but a life of office, love, and care also. He lives as the Mediator of the Church; as the King, Priest, and Prophet thereof. Hereon do our present safety and our future eternal salvation depend. Without the continual actings of the office-power and care of Christ, the Church could not be preserved one moment. And the darkness of our faith herein is the cause of all our disconsolations, and most of our weaknesses in obedience. Most men have only general and confused notions and apprehensions of the present state of Christ, with respect unto the Church. And by some, all considerations of this nature are despised and derided. But revealed things belong unto us; especially such as are of so great importance unto the glory of God and the saving of our own souls–such as this is, concerning the present state of the person of Christ in heaven, with respect unto his office-power and care.–[Ibid.]
There is nothing in him–nothing wherein he is concerned–nothing of him, his person, his natures, his office, his grace, his love, his power, his authority, his relation unto the Church–but it hath been unto many a stone of stumbling and rock of offence. Concerning these things have been all the woeful contests which have fallen out and been managed among those that outwardly have made profession of the Christian religion. And the contentions about them do rather increase than abate, unto this very day; the dismal fruits whereof the world groaneth under, and is no longer able to bear. The re-enthroning of the Person, Spirit, Grace, and Authority of Christ, in the hearts and consciences of men, is the only way whereby an end may be put unto these woeful conflicts.
. . . . .
Many, who expressly deny not his divine person, yet seem to grow weary of any concernment therein. A natural religion, or none at all, pleaseth them better than faith in God by Jesus Christ. That any thing more is necessary in religion, but what natural light will discover and conduct us in, with the moral duties of righteousness and honesty which it directs unto, there are too many that will not acknowledge. What is beyond the line of nature and reason is rejected as unintelligible mysteries or follies. The person and grace of Christ are supposed to breed all the disturbance in religion.–[From The Person of Christ.]
CHRIST AND OTHER MASTERS
IT is a notable effect of the atheistical pride of men, that, pretending to design obedience (at least in moral duties) unto God, they betake themselves unto other rules and directions, as either more plain, or full, or efficacious, than those of the gospel, which are the teachings of Christ himself, as the great prophet and apostle sent of God to instruct us in our duty. Some go to the light of nature and the use of right reason (that is, their own) as their guide; and some add the additional documents of the philosophers. They think a saying of Epictetus, or Seneca, or Arrianus, being wittily suited to their fancies and affections, to have more life and power in it than any precept of the gospel. The reason why these things are more pleasing unto them than the commands and instructions of Christ is because, proceeding from the spring of natural light, they are suited to the workings of natural fancy and understanding; but those of Christ, proceeding from the fountain of eternal spiritual light, are not comprehended in their beauty and excellency without a principle of the same light in us, guiding our understandings and influencing our affections. Hence, take any precept, general or particular, about moral duties, that is materially the same in the writings of philosophers and in the doctrine of the gospel, not a few prefer it as delivered in the first way before the latter. Such a contempt have men risen unto of Jesus Christ, the wisdom of God and the great prophet of the Church! When he entered upon his office, ‘the voice came from the excellent glory, This is my beloved Son, hear him.–[From A Discourse upon the Holy Spirit, Bk. v. ch. iv.]
THE CHURCH’S ONE FOUNDATION
A FOUNDATION must be hidden and out of sight unto all those that outwardly look upon the the house. They cannot perceive it, though every part of the house doth rest upon it. And this hath occasioned many mistakes in the world. An unwise man coming to a great house, seeing the antics[5] and pictures [figures? pillars?] stand crouching under the windows and sides of the house, may haply think that they bear up the weight of the house, when indeed they are for the most part pargeted[6] posts. They bear not the house: the house bears them. By their bowing and outward appearance, the man thinks the burden is on them, and supposes it would be an easy thing, at any time, by taking them away, to demolish the house itself. But when he sets himself to work, he finds these things of no value. There is a foundation in the bottom, which bears up the whole, that he thought not of. Men looking upon the Church do find that it is a fair fabric indeed, but cannot imagine how it should stand. A few supporters it seemeth to have in the world, like crouching antics[5] under the windows, that make some show of underpropping it; here you have a magistrate, there an army or so. Think the men of the world, ‘Can we but remove these people, the whole would quickly topple to the ground.’ Yea, so foolish have I been myself, and so void of understanding before the Lord, as to take a view of some goodly appearing props of this building and to think, How shall the house be preserved if these be removed–when lo! suddenly some have been manifested to be held up by the house, and not to hold it up. I say then, Christ, as the foundation of this house, is hidden to the men of this world; they see it not, they believe it not. There is nothing more remote from their apprehension than that Christ should be at the bottom of them and their ways, whom they so much despise.–[From A Sermon preached at Berwick, 1650]
WHAT IS THE CHURCH FOR?
THERE are two great ends why Christ did institute a particular Church; and they were to express the two great graces and duties that he requires of us.
The first end was, that his saints together might jointly profess their faith in him, and obedience to him. And we have no other way of doing it: he hath tied us up to this. . . .
The next great end was, that we might have a direct exercise of his other great command, and of that other great duty, of love to believers. ‘I will try you here,’ saith Christ; ‘I require this of you indispensably–to love all the saints, all believers, all my disciples. You shall not need to say you must go far, this way or that, for objects. . . . I will give you an instance whereby you may be tried,’ saith he;–’cast you into such a society by my order and appointment, as wherein you may have immediate objects for the exercise of love to the utmost of what I do require.’ If we find a person that is orderly admitted into Church society, he is as certain and evident an object of our love as if we saw him lying in the arms of Christ. . . . Christ hath given it you for a trial: he will try your love at the last day by your deportment in that Church wherein you are. The great law and guide of his Church binds it upon all our spirits and consciences: it is our life, our being.–[Sermons.]
What is a Church? Is it not a company of sinners gathered together, according unto God’s appointment, to give glory and praise to him for pardoning grace, for the forgiveness of sins, and to yield him that obedience which he requires from us on the account of his havving so dealt with us? This is the nature, this is the end of a Church.[7] He that understandeth it not, he that useth it not unto that end, doth but abuse that great institution. And such abuse the world is full of.–[From An Exposition upon Psalm cxxx.]
CONSCIENCE AND FORGIVENESS
CONSCIENCE naturally knows nothing of forgiveness; yea, it is against its very trust, work, and office to hear any thing of it. If a man of courage and honesty be entrusted to keep a garrison against an enemy, let one come and tell him that there is peace made between those whom he serves and their enemies, so that he may leave his guard, and set open the gates, and cease his watchfulness; how wary will he be, lest under this pretence he be betrayed! ‘No,’ saith he; ‘I will keep my hold until I have express orders from my superiors.’ Conscience is entrusted with the power of God in the soul of a sinner, with command to keep all in subjection with reference unto the judgement to come. It will not betray its trust in believing every report of peace. No; but this it says, and it speaks in the name of God, ‘Guilt and punishment are inseparable twins; if the soul sin, God will judge. What tell you me of forgiveness? I know what my commission is, and that I will abide by. You shall not bring in a superior commander, a cross principle, into my trust; for if this be so, it seems I must let go my throne–another lord must come in’; not knowing, as yet, how this whole business is compounded in the blood of Christ. Now, whom should a man believe if not his own conscience, which, as it will not flatter him, so it intends not to affright him, but to speak the truth as the matter requireth? . . . It will allow men to talk of forgiveness, to hear it preached, though they abuse it every day; but to receive it in its power, that stands up in direct opposition to its dominion. ‘In the kingdom,’ saith conscience, ‘I will be greater than thou’; and in many, in the most, it keeps its possession, and will not be deposed.–[From An Exposition upon Psalm cxxx.]
ENGLAND’S GLORY
IT is reported of the heralds of our neighbour monarchs, that when on of them had repeated the numerous titles of his master of Spain the other often repeated, ‘France, France, France’![8] intimating that the dominion which came under that one denomination would counterpoise the long catalogue of kingdoms and dukedoms wherewith the other flourished. Were we to contend with the grand seignior of the East about our enjoyments, we might easily bear down his windy, pompous train of titles with this one (which millies repetitum placebit), ‘The Gospel, the Gospel!’–[From his First Sermon before Parliament, 1649]
FAITH, THE ACCUMULATION OF[9]
‘GOD,’ saith the apostle, ‘hath delivered us from so great a death, and doth deliver.’ [2 Cor. i. 10.] Now, what conclusion makes he of this experience?–’In whom we trust that he will yet deliver us.’ So doth the apostle again, ‘He did deliver me from the mouth of the lion’ [2 Tim. iv. 17-18.]–Nero, that lion-like tyrant. And what then? ‘He shall deliver us from every evil work.’ [1 Sam. xvii. 37.] David esteemed it very good logic, to argue from the victory God gave him over the lion and the bear,[10] to a confidence of victory over Goliath.
Let former mercies be an anchor of hope in time of present distresses. Where is the God of Marston Moor, and the God of Naseby? is an acceptable expostulation in a gloomy day. What a catalogue of mercies hath this nation to plead by in a time of trouble!
Faith looketh backwards and forwards–to what God hath done, and to what he hath promised to do. Forget not your perils–be rich in a heap of mercies. Faith will make you so. The love, the comfort, the benefit of all former and future blessings are yours, if you know how to use them. Oh, how have we lost our mercies in every hedge and ditch! Have none of us skill to lay up the last eminent deliverance against a rainy day?–[From Sermons.]
FAITH AND DEATH
THERE are sundry things required of us, that we may be able to encounter death cheerfully, constantly, and victoriously. For want of these, or some of them, I have known gracious souls who have lived in a kind of bondage for fear of death all their days. We know not how God will manage any of our minds and souls in that season, in that trial; for he acts towards us in all such things in a way of sovereignty. But these are the things which he requireth of us in a way of duty:–
First, Peculiar actings of faith to resign and commit our departing souls into the hand of him who is able to receive them, to keep and preserve them, as also to dispose of them into a state of rest and blessedness, are required of us.
The soul is now parting with all things here below, and that for ever. None of all the things which is hath seen, heard, or enjoyed, by its outward senses, can be prevailed with to stay with it one hour, or to take one step with it in the voyage wherein it is engaged. It must alone by itself launch into eternity. It is entering an invisible world, which it knows no more of than it hath received by faith. None hath come from the dead to inform us of the state of the other world; yea, God seems on purpose so to conceal it from us, that we should have no evidence of it, at least as unto the manner of things in it, but what is given unto faith by divine revelation. This made a great emperor[11] cry out, on the approach of death,[12] ‘O animula, tremula, vagula, blandula; quae nune abibis in loca horrida, squalida,’ etc.–’O poor, trembling, wandering soul, into what places of darkness and defilement art thou going?’ . . . Herein, as in all other graces, is our Lord Jesus Christ our great example. He resigned his departing spirit into the hands of his Father, to be owned and preserved by him, in its state of separation: ‘Father, into thy hands I commend my spirit.’ . . . So Stephen resigned his soul, departing under violence, into the hands of Christ himself. When he died he said, ‘Lord Jesus, receive my spirit.’
This is the last victorious act of faith, wherein its conquest over its last enemy death itself doth consist. Herein the soul says in and unto itself: ‘Thou art now taking leave of time unto eternity; all things about thee are departing as shades, and will immediately disappear. The things which thou are entering are yet invisible; such as “eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, nor will they enter into the heart of man fully to conceive.” Now, therefore, with quietness and confidence give up thyself unto the sovereign power, grace, truth, and faithfulness of God, and thou shalt find assured rest and peace.’
But Jesus Christ it is who doth immediately receive the souls of them who believe in him. So we see in the instance of Stephen. And what can be a greater encouragement to resign them into his hands than a daily contemplation of his glory, in his person, his power, his exaltation, his office, and grace? Who that believes in him, that belongs unto him, can fear to commit his departing spirit unto his love, power, and care? Even we also shall hereby in our dying moments see by faith heaven opened, and Jesus standing at the right hand of God ready to receive us. . . .
Secondly, It is required in us, unto the same end that we be ready and willing to part with the flesh, wherewith we are clothed, with all things that are useful and desirable thereunto. The alliance, the relation, the friendship, the union that are between the soul and the body, are the greatest, the nearest, the firmest that are or can be among mere created beings. There is nothing like it–nothing equal unto it. . . . The soul and body are naturally and necessarily unwilling to fall into a state of separation, wherein the one shall cease to be what it was, and the other knows not clearly how it shall subsist. The body claspeth about the soul, and the soul receiveth strange impressions from its embraces; the entire nature, existing in the union of them both, being unalterably averse to a dissolution. . . . How is it possible that a man should attain such an inclination unto, such a readiness for, such a vehement desire of, a dissolution? It is from a view by faith of Christ and his glory, whence the soul is satisfied that to be with im is incomparably better than in its present state and condition.
He, therefore, that would die comfortably, must be able to say within himself and to himself, ‘Die, then, thou frail and sinful flesh; “dust thou art, and unto dust thou shalt return.” I yield thee up unto the righteous doom of the Holy One. Yet therein also I give thee into the hand of the great Refiner, who will hide thee in thy grave, and by thy consumption purify thee from all thy corruption and disposition to evil. Thou shalt no more be a residence for the least remainder of sin unto eternity, nor any clog[13] unto my soul in its actings on God. Rest therefore in hope; for God, in his appointed season, when he shall have a desire unto the work of his hands, will call unto thee, and thou shalt answer him out of the dust. Then shall he, by an act of his almighty power, not only restore thee unto thy pristine glory, as at the first creation, when thou wast the pure workmanship of his hands, but enrich and adorn thee with inconceivable privileges and advantages. Go into the dust–rest in hope; “for thou shalt stand in thy lot at the end of the days.”‘
That which will enable us hereunto, in an eminent manner, is that view and consideration of the glory of Christ which is the subject of the ensuing Meditations. For He who is now possessed of all that glory underwent this dissolution of nature as truly and really as ever we shall do.
Thirdly, There is required hereunto a readiness to comply with the times and seasons wherein God would have us depart and leave this world. Many think they shall be willing to die when their time is come; but they have many reasons, as they suppose, to desire that it may not yet be. Some desire to live that they may see more of that glorious work of God for his Church, which they believe he will accomplish. So Moses prayed that he might not die in the wilderness, but go over Jordan, and see the good land, and that goodly mountain and Lebanon, the seat of the church, and of the worship of God; which yet God thought meet to deny unto him. And this denial of the request of Moses, made on the highest consideration possible, is instructive unto all in the like case. Others may judge themselves to have some work to do in the world, wherein they suppose that the glory of God and good of the Church are concerned; and therefore would be spared for a season. Paul knew not clearly whether it were not best for him to abide a while longer in the flesh on this account; and David often deprecates the present season of death because of the work which he had to do for God in the world. Others rise no higher than their own private interests or concerns with respect unto their persons, their families, their relations, and goods in this world. They would see these things in a better or more settled condition before they die, and then they shall be most willing so to do. But it is the love of life that lies at the bottom of all these desires in men; which of itself will never forsake them. But no man can die cheerfully or comfortably who lives not in a constant resignation of the time and season of his death unto the will of God, as well as himself with respect unto death itself. Our times are in his hand, at his sovereign disposal; and his will in all things must be complied withal. Without this resolution, without this resignation, no man can enjoy the best solid peace in this world.
Forthly, As the times and seasons, so the ways and means of the approaches of death have especial trials; which, unless we are prepared for them, will keep us under bondage, with the fear of death itself. Long, wasting, wearing consumptions, burning fevers, strong pains of the stone,[14] or the like from within; or sword, fire, tortures, with shame and reproach from without, may be in the way of the access of death unto us. To get above all perplexities on account of these things, is part of our wisdom in dying daily–[From the preface to Owen’s posthumous Meditations and Discourses on the Glory of Christ.]
Faith is the leading grace in all our spiritual warfare and conflict; but all along, while we live, it hath faithful company that adheres to it and helps it. Love works, and hope works, and all other graces–self-denial, readiness to the cross–they all work and help faith. Yet when we come to die, faith is left alone. Now, try what faith will do. Not to be surprised with any thing is the substance of human wisdom; not to be surprised with death is a great part of the substance of our spiritual wisdom.[15]–[From Sermons.]
FORGIVENESS
FOR the most part, we are, as it were, ready rather to steal forgiveness from God, than to receive from him as one that gives it freely and largely. We take it up and lay it down as though we would be glad to have it, so God did not, as it were, see us take it; for we are afraid he is not willing we should have it indeed. We would steal this fire from heaven, and have a share in God’s treasures and riches almost without his consent: at least, we think that we have it from him ‘?gr?,’ with much difficulty; that is is rarely given, and scarcely obtained; that he gives it out ???? ??????? ?? ????, with a kind of unwilling willingness–as we sometimes give alms without cheerfulness; and that he loseth so much by us as he giveth out in pardon. We are apt to think that we are very willing to have forgiveness, but that God is unwilling to bestow it, and that because he seems to be a loser by it, and to forego the glory of inflicting punishment for our sins; which of all things we suppose he is most loath to part withal.[16]. And this is the very nature of unbelief. . . .
Reason’s line is too short to fathom the depth of the Father’s love, of the blood of the Son, and the promises of the gospel built thereon, wherein forgiveness dwells. Men cannot by their rational considerations launch out into these deeps, nor draw water from these ‘wells of salvation.’ Reason stands by amazed, and cries, ‘How can these things be?’ It can but gather cockle-shells, like him of old, at the shore of this ocean, a few criticisms upon the outward letter, and so bring an evil report upon the land, as did the spies. All it can do is but to hinder faith from venturing into it, crying, ‘Spare thyself; this attempt is vain, these things are impossible.’ It is among the things that faith puts off and lays aside when it engageth the soul into this great work. This, then, that it may come to a discovery of forgiveness, causeth the soul to deny itself and all its own reasonings, and to give up itself to an infinite fulness of goodness and truth. Though it cannot go unto the bottom of these depths, yet it enters into them, and finds rest in them. Nothing but faith is suited to rest, to satiate, and content itself in mysterious, bottomless, unsearchable depths.–[From An Exposition upon Psalm cxxx.]
Footnotes
1 ‘Is there no way,’ asks Andrew Fuller, ‘to bring home a wandering sheep but by worrying him to death?’ Owen’s greater Anglican contemporary writes to the same effect in his Liberty of Prophesying. ‘Any zeal,’ he observes, ‘is proper for religion, but the zeal of the sword and the zeal of anger,’ since no secure basis for a reasonable religion can be won ‘if the sword turns preacher, and dictates propositions by empire instead of arguments, and engraves them in men’s hearts with a poniard.’ One wonders if the Puritan was thinking of the anecdote which narrates how Michelangelo, who was engaged in designing a statue of Julius II., asked that eminently meek and saintly representative of Christ if he would care to hold a volume in his hand. ‘What volume?’ cried the indignant Pope; ‘a sword! I know nothing of letters, not I.’
2 ‘We read not that Christ ever exercised force but once; and that was to drive profane ones out of his Temple, not to force them in’ (Milton’s Treatise of Civil Power in Ecclesiastical Causes, etc., 1659). The gentle and gracious Francois de Sales (1567-1622) used to call attention to the order of Paul’s words, ‘Reprove, rebuke, exhort with all long-suffering and doctrine.’ ‘Note,’ he said, ‘how the apostle puts long-suffering before doctrine. The reason is that patience is the only thing that answers with people whom it is hard to win. Patience enables us to win not only our own souls but the souls of others also.’ His Traite de l’Armour de Dieu was published in the year of Owen’s birth. Read also the opening sentences of the dedication to Holy Living, written in 1650.
3 Adequate justice is not always done to the desire of many noble souls in Puritanism to maintain their right to a term like ‘Catholic,’ which then, as now, was apt to be soiled with all ignoble use. I subjoin two instances. In the preface to Mathew Henry’s life of his father, Philip Henry (1631-1696), Bates observes that the latter, an eminent and saintly Presbyterian, ‘was a man of no party; but true Catholic Christianity (not debauched by bigotry, nor leavened by any private opinions or interests) was his very temper and genius.’ He used to declare that he was ‘too much a Catholic to be a Roman Catholic.’ Baxter also once printed a sermon on The True Catholick, ‘for I apprehended it a Matter of Great Necessity to imprint true Catholicism on the Minds of Christians, it being a most lamentable thing to observe how few Christians in the World there be, that fall not into one Sect or another. . . . And if they can but get to be of a Sect which they think the holiest (as the Anabaptists and Separatists) or which is the largest (as the Greeks and Papists), they think then that they are sufficiently warranted to deny others to be God’s Church, or at least to deny them Christian love and communion’ (Reliquiae Baxterianae, Bk. I. part i. ? 168).
4 The text of Jonathan Edwards’s treatise on the Religious Affections, which is one long expansion of the sentence in its opening section that ‘as there is no true religion where there is nothing else but affection, so there is no true religion where there is no religious affection.’
5 Fantastic mural decorations.
6 Plastered or painted.
7 This is the genuine Reformation view of the Church as a fellowship of believers. Owen postulates it against the Socinian view, set forth in the Racovian Catechism, which practically resolved the Church into a school of people holding correct doctrines. That catechism explicitly defines the visible Church as ‘the company of those who hold and profess saving doctrine’ (see Ritschl’s Critical History of Justification and Reconciliation, E. tr. J. S. Black, pp. 295 f.).
8 Next year we find Cromwell writing in a similar strain to Lord Wharton (Letter cxviii. in Carlyle’s edition): ‘Oh this flattering world! How great is it to be the Lord’s servant in any drudgery–in all hazards his worst is far above the world’s best! . . . How hard is it to reason ourselves up to the Lord’s service, though it be so honourable.’ Owen elsewhere observes, in the same strain: ‘Let men think as meanly as they please of the spiritual service of God amongst his people; all glory that ever yet appeared in the world was but a bubble to it.’
9 For a very fine modern statement of this truth, see Philips Brooks on Ps. lxxviii. 20 in his volume of sermons entitled The Candle of the Lord.
10 ‘Thus Captain Experience came under command to Emmanuel for the good of the town of Mansoul. He had for his lieutenant one Mr. Skilful, and for his cornet one Mr. Memory . . . and his scutcheon was the dead lion and the dead bear’ (Bunyan’s Holy War). See too ‘Forgetful Green’ in the second part of the Pilgrim’s Progress, and Philip Henry’s remark that ‘if the end of one mercy were not the beginning of another, we were undone.’
11 Owen, like Leighton, was evidently fond of alluding to the so-called hymn of Hadrian–
Animula, vagula, blandula,
Hospes comesque corporis,
Quae nunc abibis in loca?
Pallidula, rigida, nudula.
Nec, ut soles, dabis joca.
12 In his famous sermon (1496) on ‘The art of dying a good death,’ Savonarola urges similar advice on the Florentines. ‘Death,’ he cries, ‘is the most solemn moment of our life; then it is that the Evil One makes his last attack on us. It is as though he were always playing chess with man, and awaiting the approach of death to give him checkmate. He who wins at that moment wins the battle of life.’
13 See Walt Whitman’s wonderful lines on The Singer in the Prison.
14 The disease which proved fatal to Owen himself as to many other eminent men of that age.
15 On this reluctance to die, John Howe has some fine remarks in vol. vi. pp. 166-167 (ed. 1863).
16 ‘In relation to the world.’ said Dr. Chalmers at the close of his life, ‘you will find men often open, generous, and unsuspicious; but then they keep their accounts with heaven in the most suspicious and niggardly manner–in a manner with which I can have no sympathy, continually striving against and fighting with the goodness and sincerity of God, and will not take God at his word.’