“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 mustdo good works, and all the children of God cando 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.
- This third pointshould 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.