Grace Gems for AUGUST 2005
I follow like a little blind child
(J. A. James, "The Practical Believer Delineated")
"And we know that God causes everything to work
together for the good of those who love God and
are called according to His purpose." Romans 8:28
Strong faith has a firm persuasion of God's over-ruling 
Providence—so comprehensive as to include the destinies 
of empires and worlds; and so minute as to extend to 
individuals. Strong faith believes that God's Providence is . . .
ever active,
ever directing,
ever controlling, and
ever subordinating 
all things to His own purposes and plans. 
Strong faith is a conviction of this great truth—so deep, so 
satisfying, and so tranquilizing—as not at all to be shaken 
by the chaotic aspect of human affairs, or the prevalence 
of gigantic evils. 
A weak faith must give way before . . . 
the deep mysteries,
the confounding events,
the defeats of what is good, and
the triumphs of what is evil, 
which are perpetually going on in our world's history. 
The stream of Providence is . . . 
so twisting,
so dark,
apparently so murky, and
occasionally so devastating;
that it requires strong faith believe that it is the 
work of God and not of chance; and that if it is the 
work of God—it must be just, and wise, and good. 
In the darkest dispensations of Providence affecting 
ourselves, strong faith realizes that it is all from God; 
and must therefore be wise, and just, and good. To be 
able really say, "It is well. I am sure it is right. I cannot 
tell how it is right. I do not understand why this deep 
afflictive Providence came. I can find no key to unlock 
the mystery. But I am as confident that it is right, as if 
God's whole purpose were transparent to my reason, and 
I could see the event in all its connections, bearings, and 
results. I cannot see how or why—but I believe that my
deep affliction is for God's glory and my ultimate benefit. I 
know that God causes everything to work together for good."
Faith assures us that the darker, the more confounding, the
more disappointing events—are all right and just, and good. 
Strong faith walks on amid shadows and darkness, grasping 
the arm of God, believing that He is leading us, and will lead 
us right. Strong faith gives up all into His hands, saying, 
"I cannot even see a glimmering of light! I cannot see where 
to place my next step! But I can most implicitly trust in the 
wisdom, power, and truth of God! I follow like a little blind 
child, grasping the hand of his father!"
Times of great troubles and difficulties, are seasons and 
opportunities for the exercise of faith. God is always the 
Christian's best refuge—and often his only one! He is 
sometimes reduced to extremity, and is compelled to say, 
"He alone is my rock and my salvation! My help comes only
from the Lord! No one else will help me—no one else can!" 
Sense and reason both fail. No door of escape presents 
itself—nor any way of relief. There is nothing left for him 
to do, but to take up the promise and carry it in the hand 
of faith, knock by prayer at the door of mercy, and as he
stands there to say, "Find rest, O my soul, in God alone! 
My hope comes from Him. He alone is my rock and my 
salvation! He is my fortress, I will not be shaken. Yes, 
Lord, You have bid me come, when I could go nowhere 
else. And here according to your command and promise I 
will remain—waiting, trembling, yet believing and hoping.
I am sure You will come and help me. My heavenly Father 
knows the necessities of His poor helpless child, and He 
will come in His own time, and in His own way, and I will 
wait for him. My bread will be given me, and my water 
will be sure."
A cold chill fell upon their hearts!
(John Angell James, "The Christian Professor" 1837)
It has frequently occurred, that young converts in the 
ardor of their first love, and while much unacquainted 
as yet, with what is called the 'religious world', have 
looked upon the church as a 'sacred enclosure', within 
which dwelt a kind of heavenly inhabitants, who could 
think or speak of little else than the glory which awaited 
them. In the church, these novices expected to find . . .
the sweetest and holiest fellowship,
an almost unearthly spirituality, and
an uninterrupted strain of pious conversation.
But alas! What a woeful disappointment did the reality 
produce! In the 'sacred enclosure' they found worldly
minded professors—almost as intent upon seen and 
temporal things, as those they had left out in the world! 
In the 'vestibule of heaven', they beheld professors . . .
covered with the 'earthly dust',
disordered with worldly concerns,
and given up to worldly amusements!
In the church members, they saw little but worldly 
conduct, and heard little else but worldly conversation!
A cold chill fell upon their hearts, which checked 
the ardor of their pious affections; and even they, 
lately so fervent, soon sunk and settled down into 
the lukewarmness of those among whom they had 
come to dwell.
Vacationing at resorts?
(John Angell James, "The Christian Professor" 1837)
The line of distinction between the world and the 
church is fast disappearing.
What shall be said of the conduct of some professing 
Christians vacationing at resorts? It has become 
almost one of the necessaries of life to Englishmen, 
to pay an annual visit to the coast, or to one of our 
inland places of resort. To say that this is wrong to 
those who can afford to pay for it, is certainly not 
my intention. But some professing Christians have 
ruined themselves, and plunged their families into 
poverty and distress, by habits of expense and 
idleness, acquired by this annual excursion to the 
sea. The taste of the age is for luxurious gratification, 
and it is certainly one of these luxuries to while away 
a week or two amidst the beauties of the coast, or 
the mirthful throng of a fashionable lounging place. 
I will suppose, however, that the professor can afford
the gratification; still, are not his spendings for this 
enjoyment, out of all due proportion with his donations 
to the cause of Christ? When did he ever give, in one 
amount, to any Christian cause, what he gives, in one 
amount, for his treat to his family to a resort? No, put
together all that he gives to the cause of the Lord for 
a whole year, and does it equal what he spends upon 
one vacation, lavishing hundreds—or thousands, in 
riding into the country, or sailing on the sea, and 
luxuriating in other ways on the shore. 
When a world is perishing, and immortal souls are 
sinking daily in crowds to perdition, a Christian 
should look, with grudging eye, on almost every 
dollar he spends in luxury! 
Are there no 'perils for piety' in a vacation resort? 
Temptations abound everywhere, entering like a 
poisoned atmosphere into every place—but surely 
no one will deny, that they are found in greater 
number and force in those places, which fashion 
has set apart for relaxation and amusement. 
The mixed society to be found in such haunts of 
pleasure; the amusements which are resorted to;
and the general air of wastefulness which pervades 
the whole scene—are all uncongenial with the spirit 
of piety, which flourishes best in silence and solitude.
Those who frequent vacation resorts, seem as though
the object of their existence is to spend it in pleasure.
Is this proper behavior for the self-denying, humble 
followers of a crucified Savior?
It is indeed to be feared that some professing Christians, 
when they set out on their summer's vacation, leave their 
religion at home, in order that nothing may interrupt their 
pursuit and enjoyment of pleasure. Many have gone to 
places of fashionable resort to have their piety lastingly 
injured; and some to lose it altogether. They started a 
retrograde course in piety from that day when they 
went joyfully and thoughtlessly to the coast in search 
of recreation. Surely, surely, then, it cannot be thought 
unseasonable or unnecessary to raise a warning voice, 
and to make it loud and strong when it is becoming 
increasingly prevalent among professing Christians to 
seek in this species of gratification, a temporary release 
from the "dull cares of home, and the plodding pursuits 
of business."
A chameleon kind of religion
(John Angell James, "The Christian Professor" 1837)
"So that you may be blameless and pure, children of
God who are faultless in a crooked and perverted
generation, among whom you shine like stars in
the world." (Philippians 2:15)
Saving religion is not merely an occasional act—but 
a permanent habit, resulting from an internal principle. 
Saving religion is a principle so fixed as to constitute 
a new moral nature; and so steadily operative, as to 
form an unchanging character.
A real Christian is a Christian always, everywhere, 
and in all companies. He carries his piety with him 
wherever he goes, as an integral part of himself. It is 
not like his clothes which may be continually altered, or 
varied to suit his situation, occupation, and company. 
He needs his piety everywhere, he loves it everywhere, 
and is commanded to let it be seen everywhere. 
But among most professors of Christianity, there is
too much of a chameleon kind of religion, which 
takes its hue from surrounding objects. This is seen 
most conspicuously in the conduct of those who have 
a flexible, yielding, easy-going kind of piety—which 
accommodates itself to changing circumstances, by 
little sacrifices of principle and consistency.
A golden image in the house!
(John Angell James, "The Christian Professor" 1837)
It is quite evident that covetousness is indeed the sin 
of the church. In this wealthy age and country, there 
is imminent peril of professing Christians forgetting 
their high calling, and living only to get riches. We see 
them toiling and panting in pursuit of the golden object 
of ambition.