The Redeemers Tears Wept over Lost Souls, Appendix
APPENDIX.
BEcause some things, not fit to be wholly omitted, were as little fit to come into the body of a practical discourse, 'twas thought requisite to subjoyn here the following additions, that will, severally have reference to distinct parts of the foregoing discourse.
As to what was said p. 81. of the unreasonablenes, and ill consequence of admitting it to be any mans duty to believe himself utterly rejected, and forsaken of God, inasmuch as it would make that his duty which were repugnant to his felicity. This is to be evinced by a consideration, which also, even apart by it self, were not without its own great weight, viz. that such a belief were inconsistent with his former stated and known duty: It were therefore inconsistent with his felicity, inasmuch as it would make that duty impossible to be performed, which, before, was by the constitution of the Evangelical law, made necessary to it, viz. Repentance towards God, and faith in our Lord Jesus Christ. The hope of acceptance is so necessary to both these, that the belief of a mans being finally rejected, or that he shall never be accepted, cannot but make them both impossible, equally impossible, as if he were actually in hell, as much impossible to him, as to the devils themselves. Nor is this impossibility, meerly, from a moral impotency, or that obduration of heart which were confessedly vicious, and his great sin, but from the natural influence of that belief of his being for ever rejected, which (upon the mentioned supposition) were his duty. Besides, inasmuch as it is the known duty of a sinner under the Gospel, to turn to God thorough Christ, and it is also declared in the same Gospel (sufficiently to make it the common matter of faith to Christians) that none can of themselves turn to God, and believe in his Son, without the hlep of special efficious grace; It must hereupon, be a mans duty also to pray for that grace which may enable him hereto. How deep in wickedness was Simon Magus, even in the gall of bitternes, and bond of iniquity, when yet Peter calls him to repentance, and puts him upon praying for forgivenes, (which must imply also his praying for the grace to repent;) but how can a man pray for that, which, at the same time, he believes shall not be given him? yea, and which is harder, and more unaccountable, how can he stand obliged in duty, to pray for that, which, at the same time, he stands obliged in duty to believe he shall not obtain? How can these two contrary obligations ly upon a man at the same time? or is he to look upon the former as ceased? should he reckon the Gospel as to him repealed? or his impenitency and infidelity, even when they are at the highest, no sins?
I know 'tis obvious to object, as to all this, the case of the unpardonable blasphemy against the holy Ghost; which will be supposed to be stated and determined in the sacred Scriptures, and being so, the person that hath committed it, may equally be thought obliged, (by a mixt assent, partly of faith to what is written, partly of self-knowledge, which he ought to have of his own acts and state) to conclude himself guilty of it; whereupon all the former inconvenience and difficulty will be liable to be urged as above. But even as to this also, I see not but it may fitly enough be said, that though the general nature of that sin be stated, and sufficiently determined in thesi, yet that God hath not left it determinable in hypothesi, by any particular person, that he hath committed it. For admit that it generally lies in imputing to the devil those works of the Holy Ghost, by which the truth of Christianity was to be demonstrated, I yet see not how any man can apply this to his own particular case, so as justly, and certainly to conclude himself guilty of it. I take it for granted none will ever take the notion of blasphemy in that strictness, but that a man may possibly be guilty of this sin as well in thought, as by speech. I also doubt not but it will be acknowledged on all hands, that prejudice and malice against Christianity, must have a great ingrediency into this sin; not such malice as whereby, knowing it to be the true Religion, a man hates and detests it as such (which would suppose these Pharisees, whom our Saviour charges with it, or cautions against it, to have been, at that time, in their judgments and consciences, Christians) but such malignity, and strong prejudice as darkens and obstructs his mind, that he judges it not to be true, against the highest evidence of its being so; It will also be acknowledged, that some enmity and disaffection to true Religion is common to all men; more especially in their unregeneracy, and unconverted state.
Now let it be supposed that some person or other, of a very unwarrantably sceptical Genius, had opportunity to know certainly the matter of fact, touching the miraculous works wrought by our Saviour, and understood withall somewhat generally, of the doctrine which he taught; and that he sets himself as a Philosopher, to consider the case. Suppose that, partly thorough prejudice against the holy design of Christianity, whereof there is some degree in all; and partly thorough shortnes of discourse, not having thoroughly considered the matter; he thinks it possible that some Daemon or other, with design, under a specious pretence, to impose upon, or amuse the credulous vulgar, may have done all those strange things. Suppose his judgment should for the present more incline this way. What if thinking this to be the case in the instance of Apollonius Tyanaeus, he hath not yet, upon a slighter view, discerned enough to distinguish them, but thinks alike of both cases? yea and suppose he have spoken his sentiments to some or other. Perhaps, upon further enquiry and search, he might see cause to alter his judgment. And now, setting himself to enquire more narrowly, he perceives the unexceptionable excellent scope and tendency of our Saviours doctrine and precepts, considers the simplicity and purity of his life, contemplates further the awful greatness of his mighty works; but amidst these his deliberations, he finds among the rest of christian constitutions this severe one, Mat. 12.31, 32. and begins to fear lest, supposing the truth of this excellent Religion, he have precluded himself of all the advantages of it by that former judgment of his; what is he to do in this case? what were he to be advised unto? what, to pass judgment upon himself, and his case as desperate? or not rather to humble himself before the God of heaven, ask pardon for his injurious rash judgment, and supplicate for mercy, and for further illumination, in the mystery of God, of the Father, and of Christ? Which course, that it may have a blessed issue with him, who dare venture to deny, or doubt? And what have we to say hereupon, but that in great wisdom and mercy, our Saviour hath only told us there is such a sin, and what the general nature of it is, or whereabouts it lies, but the judgment of particular cases wherein, or of the very pitch and degree of malignity wherewith it is committed, he hath reserved to himself; intending further to strive with persons by his Spirit, while he judges them yet within the reach of mercy, or withhold it, when he sees any to have arrived to that culminating pitch of malignity, and obstinacy, wherein he shall judge this sin specially to consist? And what inconvenience is it to suppose he hath left this matter, touching the degree, humanely undeterminable. The knowledge of it can do them who have committed it no good: And probably they have by it so blinded and stupified their own souls, as to have made themselves very little capable of apprehending that they have committed it, or of considering whether they have or no. But they are sunk into a deep abysse of darknes and death, so as that such knowledge may be as little possible, as it would be useful to them. All their faculties of intellection, consideration, and self-reflection, being (as to any such exercise) bound up in a stupifying dead sleep.
And to what purpose should they have a rule by which to determine a case, who 1. Can receive no benefit by the determination, and 2. Who are supposed when they are to use it, to have no faculty sufficiently apt to make this sad (but true) judgment of their case by it? But for them who have not committed it, and who are consequently, yet capable of benefit by what should be made known about it, there is, therefore, enough made known for their real use and benefit. It will 1. Be of real use to many such, to know their danger of running into it. And it is sufficient to that purpose, that they are plainly told wherein the general nature of it consists, or whereabouts it lies; without shewing them the very point that hath certain death in it; or letting them know just how near they may approach it, without being sure to perish, when there is danger enough in every step they take towards it. As if there were some horrid desart, into any part whereof no man hath any busines to come, but in some part whereof there is a dreadful gulf, whence arises a contagious halitus, which, if he come within the verge of it, will be certainly poysonous and mortal to him. What need is there that any man should know just how near he may come, without being sure to die for it? He is concerned to keep himself at a cautious awful distance. 2. It may be of great use to others, that are afflicted with very torturing fears lest they have committed it, to know that they have not. And they have enough also to satisfie them in the case. For their very fear it self, with its usual concomitants in such afflicted minds, is an argument to them that they have not. While they find in themselves any value of divine favour, any dread of his wrath, any disposition to consider the state of their souls, with any thought or design of turning to God, and making their peace; they have reason to conclude God hath hitherto kept them out of that fearful gulf; and is yet in the way, and in treaty with them. For since we are not sufficient to think any thing (that good is) of our selves, it is much more reasonable to ascribe any such thoughts or agitations of spirit that have this design to him, than to our selves, and to account that he is yet at work with us (at least in the way of common grace) thô when our thoughts drive towards a conclusion against our selves, that we have committed that sin, and towards despair thereupon, we are to apprehend a mixture of temptation in them; which we are concerned earnestly to watch and pray against. And yet even such temptation is an argument of such a ones not having committed that sin. For such as the devil may apprehend more likely to have committed it (and 'tis not to be thought he can be sure who have) he will be less apt to trouble with such thoughts, not knowing what the issue of that unquietnes may prove, and apprehending it may occasion their escaping quite out of his snare. And I do conceive this to be a safer method, of satisfying such as are perplext with this fear in our dayes, than to be positive in stating that sin so, or limiting it to such circumstances, as shall make it impossible to be committed in this age of the World. For let it be seriously considered, whether it be altogether an unsupposeable thing, that, with some in our dayes, there may be an equivalency, in point of light and evidence of the truth of Christianity, unto what those Jews had, whom our Saviour warns of the danger of this sin, at that time when he so warned them; his warning and cautioning them about it, implies that he judged them, at least in a possibility, at that time, of incurring the guilt of it. If the text Mat. 12. do not also imply that he reckoned them, then, actually to have committed it. For it is said, ver. 25. he knew their thoughts, i. e. considered the temper of their minds, and thereupon said to them that which follows concerning it. Let us consider wherein their advantage towards their being ascertained of the truth of the Christian Religion, was greater than we now can have. It was, chiefly, in this respect greater, that they had a nearer, and more immediate knowledge of the matter of fact, wherein that evidence which our Saviour refers to did consist. A more immediate way of knowing it they had; the most immediate the persons whom he warns (or charges) seem not to have had: For those Pharisees, it is said, heard of the cure of the Daemoniac, not that they saw it. They took it upon the (no doubt sufficiently credible) report of others. Now let it be further considered, what we have to ballance this one single advantage. We have, to intelligent considering persons, rationally-sufficient evidence. of the same matter of fact. But how great things, that have since followed, have we the sufficiently certain knowledge of besides, beyond what they had in view, at that time. As the wonderful death of our Lord, exactly according to prediction, in many respects, together with all the unforetold amazing circumstances that attended it! His more wonderful resurrection, upon which so great a stresse is laid for demonstrating the truth of the Religion he taught. The destruction of Jerusalem, as he foretold, and the shattered condition of the Jewish nation, as was also foretold, ever since. The strange successe of the Gospel in the first, and some following ages, by so unlikely means, against the greatest opposition imaginable, both of Jews, and Pagans. Not to insist on the apostacy foretold, in the Christian Church, with many more things that might be mentioned. Let be considered whether the want of a so immediate way of knowing some of these things, be not abundantly compensated by the greatnes of the other things that are however sufficiently known. And if such as have wit and leisure to consider these things in our dayes, are often prest to consider them, have them frequently represented, and laid before their eyes, if such, I say, have in view as great evidence, upon the whole, of the truth of Christianity, as these Pharisees had; it is then further to be considered, whether it be not possible that some such may equal the Jewish malice, against the holy design of our Religion. To which I only say, the Lord grant that none may. But if there be really cause to apprehend such a danger, some other way should be thought of to cure the trouble of some, than by the danger, and (too probable) ruine of others.
However, none should themselves make their own case incurable, by concluding that they have sin'd that sin, or by believing they are, otherwise, forsaken and rejected of God; so as that he will never more assist their endeavour to repent, and turn to him thorough the Mediatou….
If it be enquired here, since, as hath been shewn, some may be quite forsaken of God, while yet they live in the world; ought such to believe then they are not forsaken, and so believe an untruth that they may make it true, or try if they can better their condition by it? I answer, nor that neither. For that God will further assist an obstinate sinner, that hath long resisted his Spirit, and despised his mercy, is no matter of promise, to him, and so no matter of faith. When he doth conquer, at length, any such, 'tis of meer unpromised favour; (as was also shewn) whereof therefore, he gives others no ground to despair; and for which they are deeply concern'd, with great earnestnes, to supplicate. But if it be said, how can they pray for that whereof they have no promise? and can have no faith, since what is not of faith is sin, Rom. 14.23. I answer, that passage of Scripture would, in this case, be much misapply'd. It speaks not of faith concerning the certainty of any event to be expected, but the lawfulnes of a work to be done, and of doubting, not concerning the event, but my own act. Can any man in his wits doubt concerning his own act in this case? whether it be better to pray for the grace of God to save him, than slight it and perish? nor are they without very encouraging promises concerning the event, that God will be a rewarder of them that diligently seek him, Heb. 11.6. And that whosoever shall call upon the name of the Lord shall be saved, Rom. 10.13. which promises 'tis true the context of both shews, do speak of believing prayer. They are to faith, not of it, and import, that God will reward and save the believer: not that he will give faith to the obstinate, contemptuous unbeliever. If he do this, 'tis, (as was said) of unpromised bounty. But thô they are not promises to give faith, they should induce it; and incline sinners to cast themselves down before the throne of so gracious a God, and seek grace to help them in their need, in confidence that he will never reject penitent believing prayer. They, indeed, that for their former wilful sinning, are utterly forsaken of God, will not thus apply themselves; but our question is not what they will do, but what they should. Because they would not, therefore they were forsaken, and because they yet will not, they are still, and finally forsaken. Their refusal proceeds not from any discouragement God hath given them, but from the malignity of their own hearts. God hath not repeal'd his Gospel towards them. The connection continues firm between the preceptive and promisory, parts of it. Their infidelity is not become their duty, but remains their hainous sin, and the more deeply hainous by how much their own malignity holds them more strongly in it.
Unto what also is discoursed p. 99. concerning anger and grief, (or other passions) ascribed to God, it will not be unfit here to adde, that unles they be allowed to signify real aversion of will, no account is to be given what reality in him they can signify at all. For to say (what some do seem to satisfie themselves with) that they are to be understood secundum effectum, not secundum affectum, thô true as to the negative part, is, as to the affirmative, very defective and short; for the effects of anger and grief, upon which those names are put, when spoken of God, are not themselves in him, but in us. But we are still at a losse what they signify in him. Such effects must have some cause. And if they be effects which he works, they must have some cause in himself that is before them, and productive of them. This account leaves us to seek what that cause is, that is signify'd by these names. That it cannot be any passion, as the same names are wont to signify with us, is out of question. Nor indeed do those names primarily, and most properly signify passion in our selves. The passion is consequent only, by reason of that inferiour nature in us, which is susceptible of it. But the aversion of our mind and will is before it, and, in another subject, very separable from it, and possible to be without it. In the blessed God we cannot understand any thing lesse is signify'd than real displicency at the things whereat he is said to be angry or grieved.
Our shallow reason indeed is apt to suggest in these matters, why is not that prevented that is so displeasing? And it would be said with equal reason in reference to all sin permitted to be in the world, why was it not prevented? and what is to be said to this? shall it be said that sin doth not displease God? that he hath no will against sin? it is not repugnant to his will? yes; it is to his revealed will, to his law. But is that an untrue Revelation? His law is not his will it self, but the signum, the discovery of his will. Now, is it an insignificant sign? a sign that signifies nothing? or to which there belongs no correspondent signisicatum? nothing that is signify'd by it? Is that which is signify'd (for sure no one will say it signifies nothing) his real will, yea or no? who can deny it? that will, then, (and a most calm, sedate, impassionate will it must be understood to be) sin, and consequently the consequent miseries of his creatures, are …ugnant unto. And what will is that? 'tis not a peremptory will concerning the event, for the event falls out otherwise; which were, upon that supposition, impossible; for who hath resisted his will? as was truly intimated by the personated questionist; Rom. 9.19. but impertinently, when Gods will of another (not a contrary) kind, i. e. concerning another object, was in the same breath refer'd unto, why doth he yet find fault? 'tis not the will of the event that is the measure of faultines: for then there could not have been sin in the world, nor consequently misery, which only, by the Creators pleasure, stands connected with it. For nothing could fall out against that irresistible will. The objector then destroys his own objection, so absurdly, and so manifestly, as not to deserve any other reply than that which he meets with. Nay, but who art thou, O man; that replyest against God?
And what is the other object about which the divine will is also conversant? matter of duty, and what stands in connection with it, not abstra… and separately, but as it is so connected, our felicity. This is objectively another will, as we justly distinguish divine acts, that respect the creature, by their different objects. Against this will falls out all the sin and misery in the world.
All this seems plain and clear, but is not enough. For it may be further said, when God wills this or that to be my duty, doth he not will this event, viz. my doing it? otherwise wherein is his will withstood, or not fulfilled in my not doing it? He will'd this to be my duty, and it is so. I do not, nor can hinder it from being so, yet I do it not, and that he will'd not. If all that his will meant was that this should be my duty, but my doing it was not intended; his will is entirely accomplished, it hath its full effect, in that such things are constituted, and do remain my duty, upon his signification of this his will, my not doing it, not being within the compas of the object, or the thing willed.
If it be said, he will'd my doing it, i. e. that I should do it, not that I shall, the same answer will recur, viz. that his will hath still its full effect, this effect still remaining, that I should do it, but that I shall he will'd not.
It may be said, I do plainly go against his will however; for his will was that I should do so, or so, and I do not what he will'd I should. 'Tis true, I go herein against his will, if he will'd not only my obligation, but my action according to it. And indeed it seems altogether unreasonable, and unintelligible, that he should will to oblige me to that, which he doth not will me to do.
Therefore it seems out of question, that the holy God doth constantly and perpetually, in a true sense, will the universal obedience, and the consequent felicity of all his creatures capable thereof; i. e. He doth will it with simple complacency, as what were highly grateful to him, simply considered by it self. Who can doubt, but that purity, holines, blessednes, wheresoever they were to be beheld among his creatures, would be a pleasing and delightful spectacle to him, being most agreable to the perfect excellency, purity, and benignity of his own nature, and that their deformity and misery must be consequently unpleasing? But he doth not efficaciously will every thing that he truly wills. He never will'd the obedience of all his intelligent creatures so, as effectually to make them all obey, nor their happines, so as to make them all be happy, as the event shews. Nothing can be more certain, than that he did not so will these things; for then nothing could have fal'n out to the contrary, as we see much hath. Nor is it at all unworthy the love and goodnes of his nature not so to have will'd, with that effective will, the universal sinlesnes, and felicity of all his intelligent creatures. The divine nature must comprehend all excellencies in it self, and not be limited to that one onelyonly of benignity, or an aptnes to acts of beneficence. For then it were not infinite, not absolutely perfect, and so not divine. All the acts of his will must be consequently conform and agreeable to the most perfect wisdome. He doth all things according to the counsel of his will. He wills, 'tis true, the rectitude of our actions, and what would be consequent thereto, but he first, and more principally wills the rectitude of his own. And not only not to do an unrighteous, but not an inept, or unfit thing. We find he did not think it fit efficaciously to provide concerning all men, that they should be made obedient and happy, as he hath concerning some. That in the general he makes a difference, is to be attributed to his wisdom, i. e. his wisdom hath in the general made this determination, not to deal with all alike, and so we find it ascribed to his wisdom that he doth make a difference; and in what a transport is the holy Apostle in the contemplation and celebration of it upon this account! Rom. 11.33. O the depth of the riches both of the wisdome and knowledge of God! how unsearchable are his judgments, and his wayes past finding out! But now when in particular, he comes to make this difference between one person, and another, there being no reason in the object to determine him this way, more than that, his designing some for the objects of special favour, and waving others (as to such special favour) when all were in themselves alike; in that case wisdom hath not so proper an exercise, but it is the work of free, unobliged sovereignty here to make the choice. Having predestinated us unto the adoption of children, by Jesus Christ, to himself, according to the good pleasure of his will. Ephes. 1.5.
Yet in the mean time, while God doth not efficaciously will all mens obedience introductive of their happines, doth it follow he wills it not really at all? to say he wills it efficaciously, were to contradict experience, and his Word; to say he wills it not really, were equally to contradict his Word. He doth will it, but not primarily, and as the more principal object of his will, so as to effect it, notwithstanding whatsoever unfitnes h… apprehe…ds in …t, viz. that he so overpower …ll, as to make them obedient and happy. He really wills it, but hath greater reasons than this or that mans salvation, why he effects it not. And this argues no imperfection in the divine will, but the perfection of it, that he wills things agreeably to the reasonablenes and fitnes of them.
THE END.
End of the text · John Howe, The Redeemers Tears Wept over Lost Souls (1684)