New Park Street Pulpit · Sermon No. 316
Delivered on Sabbath Morning, May 20th, 1860, Exeter Hall, Strand.
“Thou hast cast all my sins behind thy back”—Isaiah 38:17,
HEZEKIAH HERE SPEAKS POSITIVELY on a matter concerning which he had not the remotest shadow of n doubt. He kind trusted his God, he had cast himself upon the merit of the promised Messiah, and as the result of that faith, assurance had been granted to him, and he now sings with unfaltering tongue, “Thou,” even thou, O God, Most High and Most Just, “thou hast cast all my sins,” great and innumerable though they be, thou hast east them all “behind thy back.” Oh, what a joyous thing it is to have a ray of heavenly sunlight in the soul, and to hear the very voice of God as he walks in the garden of our souls in the cool of the day, saying to us, “Son thy sins which are many, are all forgiven thee.” The whisper of that heavenly voice may raise our heart to bliss almost divine it confers a joy that is not to be squalled by all the corn and the wine, and all the pleasures which the riches and the-enjoyments of this world can afford. To have the divine kiss of acceptance to be robed in the best robe, to have the ring on the hand and the shoes on the feet to hear the heavenly music and dancing with which the returning prodigals are returned to their Father’s house,—this, indeed, is a bliss worth worlds.
My dear brethren, there are some who choose to dwell to a very large degree in their ministry upon such enjoyments as these, which concern the experience of the child of God; but I fear they make it the main object of their preaching, to advance a system of frames and feelings. On the other hand, there are other brethren who constantly insist upon the doctrine of salvation by faith, and by faith alone, but almost forget to testify to the experience which is the result of faith. Now, both of these men were, doubtless; but nevertheless, their error is founded upon a conscientious desire to advance the truth. The brother who preaches experience, and insists upon it is afraid lest any should possess a fictitious faith which is not the faith of God’s elect. He therefore preaches experience as a test and a touchstone by which he may try the spirits whether they be of God. On the other hand, our other brother who deals with faith, and not with experience, is afraid lest men should make a God of their feelings, and lest they should rest in their experience, and not in the cross of Christ. He is so anxious to maintain in its clearness the fact that we are saved by what Christ felt, and not by what we feel, the great truth that we are redeemed by his most precious blood, and not by any experience of our own that perhaps he overshoots the mark, and forgets that where there is faith there will be experience, and where there is a true experience-there must have been a real faith.
Suffer me, then, just to spend one moment in trying to show how these two truths really meet—a divine experience and a single faith—necessary and joyous feelings and a yet more necessary and unalloyed confidence in Christ. The fact is, that we are saved by faith, and not by feeling. “We walk by faith and not by sight.” Yet there is as much connection between faith and hallowed feeling, as there is between the root and the flower. Faith is permanent, just as the root is ever in the ground; feeling is casual, and has its seasons. Just as the bulb does not always shoot up the green stem; far less is it always crowned with the many, many-coloured flower. Faith is the tree, the essential tree; our feelings are like the appearance, of that tree during the different seasons of the year. Sometimes our soul is full of bloom and blossom, and the bees hum pleasantly, and gather honey within our hearts. It is then that our feelings bear witness to the life of our faith, just as the buds of spring bear witness to the life of the tree. And, our feelings gather still greater vigor, and if we come to the summer of our delights, again, perhaps, we begin to wither into the sere and yellow leaf of autumn; nay, sometimes the winter of our despondency and despair will strip away every leaf from the tree and our poor faith stands like a blasted stem without a sign of verdure. And yet. my brethren, so long as the tree of faith is there we are saved. Whether faith blossom or not, whether it bring forth joyous fruit in our experience or not, so long as it be there in all its permanence v e are saved. Yet should we have the gravest reason to distrust the life of our faith, if it did not sometimes blossom with joy, and often bring forth fruit unto holiness. Experience, if I may so speak, is like a sun-dial When I wish to know the time of day with my spirit, I look upon it. But then there must be the sun shining, or else I cannot tell by my sun-dial what and where I am. It a cloud passes before the face of the sun, my dial is of little service to me, but then my faith comes out in all its excellency, for my faith pierces the cloud, and reads the state of my soul—not by the sunshade on the dial, but by the position of the sun in the heavens themselves. Faith is a greater and grander thing than all experience, less fickle, more stable. It is the root of grace, and these are but the flowers, the germs, the buds. Yet let us not speak against experiences, let us value them, for it is a grand thing to sit in the sunshine of God’s presence it is a noble thing to eat the grapes of Eshcol, even while we are in the wilderness. It is true there is a greater grandeur in believing heaven to be mine when I can see no evidence thereof; yet it is a sweeter thing