“But
without faith it is impossible to please Him” (Heb. 11:6)—“But the word
preached did not profit them, not being mixed with faith in them that heard it”
(Heb. 4:2). The linking together of
these verses shows us the worthlessness of all religious activities where faith
is lacking. The outward exercise may be
performed diligently and correctly, but, unless faith is in operation, God is
not honored and the soul is not profited.
Faith draws out the heart unto God, and faith it is which receives from
God—not a mere intellectual assent to what is revealed in Holy Writ, but a
supernatural principle of grace which lives upon the God of Scripture. This the natural man, no matter how religious
or orthodox he be, lacks; and no labors of his, no act
of his will, can acquire it. It is the
sovereign gift of God.
Faith must
be operative
in all the exercises of the Christian if God is to be glorified and the
believer is to be edified. First, in the
reading of the Word: “But these are written that ye might believe” (John
Now an
unregenerate professor may read the Scriptures and yet have no spiritual faith. Just as the devout Hindu peruses the
Upanishads and the Mohammedan his Koran, so many in “Christian” countries take
up the study of the Bible, and yet have no more of the life of God in their
souls than have their heathen brethren.
Thousands in this land read the Bible, believe in its Divine authorship,
and become more or less familiar with its contents. A mere professor may read several chapters
every day, and yet never appropriate a single verse. But faith applies God’s Word: it applies His
fearful threats and trembles before them; it applies His solemn warnings, and
seeks to heed them; it applies His precepts, and cries unto Him for grace to
walk in them.
It is the same in listening to the Word
preached. A carnal professor will boast
of having attended this conference and that, of having heard this famous
teacher and that renowned preacher, and be no better off in his soul than if he
had never heard any of them. He may
listen to two sermons every Sunday, and fifty years hence be as dead
spiritually as he is today. But the
regenerated soul appropriates the message and measures himself
by what he hears. He is often convicted
of his sins and made to mourn over them.
He tests himself by God’s standard, and feels that he comes so far short
of what he ought to be, that he sincerely doubts the honesty of his own
profession. The Word pierces him, like a
two-edged sword, and causes him to cry “O wretched man that I am.”
So in prayer—The mere
professor often makes the humble Christian feel ashamed of himself. The carnal religionist who has “the gift of
the gab” is never at a loss for words: sentences flow from his lips as readily
as do the waters of a babbling brook—verses of Scripture seem to run through
his mind as freely as flour passes through a sieve, whereas the poor burdened
child of God is often unable to do any more than cry “God be merciful to me a
sinner.” Ah, my friends, we need to
distinguish sharply between a natural aptitude for “making” nice prayers and
the spirit of true supplication: the one consists merely of words, the other of “groanings which cannot
be uttered”—the one is acquired by religious education, the other is
wrought in the soul by the Holy Spirit.
Thus it is too in conversing about the things of
God. The frothy professor can talk glibly
and often orthodoxy of “doctrines,” yes, and of worldly things, too: according
to his mood, or according to his audience, so is his theme. But the child of God, while being swift to
hear that which is unto edification is “slow to speak.” Ah, my reader, beware of talkative people; a
drum makes a lot of noise, but it is hollow inside! “Most men will proclaim every one his own goodness; but a faithful man who can find?” (Prov. 20:6). When a
saint of God does open his lips about spiritual matters, it is to tell of what
the Lord, in His infinite mercy, has done for him; but the carnal religionist
is anxious for others to know what he is “doing for the Lord.”
The
difference is just as real between the genuine Christian and the nominal
Christian in connection with their daily lives: while the latter may
appear outwardly righteous, yet within they are “full of hypocrisy, and
iniquity” (Matt.
So it is on their passing out of this
world. An empty professor may die as
easily and as quietly as he lived—deserted by the Holy Spirit, undisturbed by
the Devil; as the Psalmist says, “There are no bands in their death”
(73:4). But this is very different from
the end of one whose deeply-plowed and consciously-defiled conscience has been
“sprinkled” with the precious blood of Christ—“Mark the perfect man, and behold
the upright: for the end of that man is peace” (Psa.
37:37). Yes, [with] a peace which “passeth all understanding” having lived the life of the
righteous, he dies “the death of the righteous” (Num.
And what
is it which distinguishes the one character from the other—wherein lies the
difference between the genuine Christian and he who is one in name only? This—a God-given,
Spirit-wrought faith in the heart.
Not a mere head-knowledge and intellectual assent to the truth, but a
living, spiritual, vital principle in the heart—a faith which “purifies the
heart” (Acts 15:9), which “worketh by love” (Gal.
5:6), which “overcometh the world” (1
True, this
faith is not always in exercise, nor is it equally strong at all times. The favored possessor of it must be taught by
painful experience that as he did not originate it neither can he command it;
therefore does he turn unto its Author, and say, “Lord I believe, help Thou
mine unbelief.” And then it is that,
when reading the Word he is enabled to lay hold of its precious promises—that
when bowing before the Throne of Grace, he is enabled to cast his burden upon
the Lord—that when he rises to go about his temporal duties, he is enabled to
lean upon the everlasting arms—and that when he is called upon to pass through
the valley of the shadow of death, he triumphantly cries, “I will fear no evil
for Thou art with me.” “Lord, increase our faith.”
From Studies in the Scriptures, February 1933.