PEARLS from PHILPOT - Volume 4

Trouble, sorrow, and affliction "And He led them forth by the right way, that they might go to a city of habitation." Psalm 107:7 Those very times when God's people think they are faring ill, may be the seasons when they are really faring well. For instance, when their souls are bowed down with trouble, it often seems to them that they are faring ill. God's hand appears to be gone out against them. Yet perhaps they never fare better than when under these circumstances of trouble, sorrow, and affliction. These things wean them from the world. If their heart and affections were going out after idols—they instrumentally bring them back. If they were hewing out broken cisterns —they dash them all to pieces. If they were setting up, and bowing down to idols in the chambers of imagery, affliction and trouble smite them to pieces before their eyes—take away their gods—and leave them no refuge but the Lord God of hosts. So that when a child of God thinks he is faring very ill, because burdened with sorrows, temptations, and afflictions—he is never faring so well. The darkest clouds in due time will break, the most puzzling enigmas will sooner or later be unriddled by the blessed Spirit interpreting them—and the darkest providences cleared up—and we shall see that God is in them all—leading and guiding us by the right way, that we may go to a city of habitation. If you are at home in the world "We are here for only a moment, sojourners and strangers in the land as our ancestors were before us. Our days on earth are like a shadow, gone so soon without a trace." 1 Chron. 29:15 If you possess the faith of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, you, like them, confess that you are a stranger; and your confession springs out of a believing heart and a sincere experience. You feel yourself a stranger in this ungodly world. It is not your element. It is not your home. You are in it during God's appointed time, but you wander up and down this world . . . a stranger to its company, a stranger to its maxims, a stranger to its fashions, a stranger to its principles, a stranger to its motives, a stranger to its lusts, a stranger to its inclinations—and all in which this world moves as in its native element. Grace has separated you by God's sovereign power, that though you are in the world, you are not of it. I can tell you plainly if you are at home in the world—if the things of time and sense are your element—if you feel one with . . . the company of the world, the maxims of the world, the fashions of the world, and the principles of the world, grace has not reached your heart—the faith of God's elect does not dwell in your bosom. The first effect of grace is to separate. It was so in the case of Abraham. He was called by grace to leave the land of his fathers, and go out into a land that God would show him. And so God's own word to His people is now, "Come out from among them, and be separate, says the Lord, and touch not the unclean thing; and I will receive you, and will be a Father unto you, and you shall be My sons and daughters, says the Lord Almighty." Separation, separation, separation from the world; is the grand distinguishing mark of vital godliness. There may be indeed separation of body where there is no separation of heart. But what I mean is . . . separation of heart, separation of principle, separation of affection, separation of spirit. And if grace has touched your heart, and you are a partaker of the faith of God's elect—you are a stranger in the world—and will make it manifest by your life and conduct that you are such. From a burning hell—to a blissful heaven! "I consider that our present sufferings are not worth comparing with the glory that will be revealed in us." Romans 8:18 What is to be compared with the salvation of the soul? What are—riches, honors, health, long life? What are all the pleasures which the world can offer, sin promise, or the flesh enjoy? What is all that men call good or great? What is everything which the eye has seen, or the ear heard, or has entered into the carnal heart of man—put side by side with being saved in the Lord Jesus Christ with an everlasting salvation? For consider what we are saved FROM, as well as what we are saved UNTO. From a burning hell—to a blissful heaven! From endless wrath—to eternal glory! From the dreadful company of devils and damned spirits, mutually tormenting and tormented—to the blessed companionship of the glorified saints, all perfectly conformed in body and soul to the image of Christ, with thousands and tens of thousands of holy angels—and, above all, to seeing the glorious Son of God as he is, in all the perfection of His beauty, and all the ravishments of His presence and love. To be done forever with . . . all the sorrows, troubles, and afflictions of this life; all the pains and aches of the present clay tabernacle; all the darkness, bondage, and misery of the body of sin and death. To be perfectly holy in body and soul, being in both without spot, or blemish, or any such thing, and ever to enjoy uninterrupted communion with God! Our own wisdom, righteousness, and strength "Do not deceive yourselves. If any one of you thinks he is wise by the standards of this age, he should become a "fool" so that he may become wise." 1 Cor. 3:18 The fruit and effect of divine teaching is—to cut in pieces, and root up all our fleshly . . . wisdom, strength, and righteousness. God never means to patch a new piece upon an old garment. All our wisdom, our strength, our righteousness must be torn to pieces! It must all be plucked up by the roots—that a new wisdom, a new strength, and a new righteousness may arise upon its ruins. But until the Lord is pleased to teach us—we never can part with our own righteousness, never give up our own wisdom, never abandon our own strength. These things are a part and parcel of ourselves—so ingrained within us—so innate in us—so growing with our growth—that we cannot willingly part with an atom of them until the Lord Himself breaks them up, and plucks them away. Then, as He brings into our souls some spiritual knowledge of our own dreadful corruptions and horrible wickedness—our righteousness crumbles away at the divine touch. As He leads us to see and feel our ignorance and folly in a thousand instances—and how unable we are to understand anything aright but by divine teaching—our wisdom fades away. As He shows us our inability to resist temptation and overcome sin, by any exertion of our own— our strength gradually departs—and we become like Samson, when his locks were cut off. Upon the ruins, then, of our own wisdom, righteousness, and strength, does God build up Christ's wisdom, Christ's righteousness, and Christ's strength. But only so far as we are favored with this special teaching are we brought to pass a solemn sentence of condemnation upon our own wisdom, strength, and righteousness—and sincerely seek after the Lord's. Oh! sweet grace, blessed grace! "For it is by grace you have been saved." Ephesians 2:8 We are saved by grace . . . free grace, rich grace, sovereign grace, distinguishing grace— without one atom of works, without one grain of creature merit, without anything of the flesh. Oh! sweet grace, blessed grace! Oh! what a help—what a strength—what a rest for a poor toiling, striving, laboring soul—to find that grace has done all the work—to feel that grace has triumphed in the cross of Christ—to find that . . . nothing is required, nothing is needed, nothing is to be done! Dying? "As dying, and, behold, we live." 2 Corinthians 6:9 Though we die, and die daily—yet, behold, we live. And in a sense, the more we die, the more we live. The more we die to self, the more we die to sin. The more we die to pride and self-righteousness, the more we die to creature strength. The more we die to sinful nature, the more we live to grace. This runs all the way through the life and experience of a Christian. Nature must die, that grace may live. The weeds must be plucked up, that the crop may grow. The flesh must be starved, that the spirit may be fed. The old man must be put off, that the new man may be put on. The deeds of the body must be mortified, that the soul may live unto God. As then we die—we live. The more we die to our own strength, the more we live to Christ's strength. The more we die to creature hope, the more we live to a good hope through grace. The more we die to our own righteousness, the more we live to Christ's righteousness. The more we die to the world, the more we live to and for heaven. This is the grand mystery—that the Christian is always dying, yet always living—and the more he dies, the more he lives. The death of the flesh, is the life of the spirit. The death of sin, is the life of righteousness. The death of the creature, is the very life of God in the soul. "As dying, and, behold, we live." 2 Corinthians 6:9 You were bought with a price! "You were bought with a price!" 1 Cor. 6:20 How deep, how dreadful, of what alarming magnitude, of how black a dye, of how ingrained a stamp— must sin be, to need such an atonement, no less than the blood of the Son of God, to put it away! What a slave to sin and Satan, what a captive to the power of lust, how deeply sunk, how awfully degraded, how utterly lost and undone, must guilty man be—to need a sacrifice like this! Have you ever felt your bondage to sin, Satan, and the world? Have you ever—groaned, cried, grieved, sorrowed, and lamented under your miserable captivity to the power of sin? Has the iron ever entered into your soul? Have you ever clanked your fetters, and as you did so, and tried to burst them—they seemed to bind round about you with a weight scarcely endurable? You were slaves of sin and Satan. You were shut up in the dark cell, where all was gloom and despondency. There was little hope in your soul of ever being saved. But there was an entrance of gospel light into your dungeon—there was a coming out of the house of bondage! "You were bought with a price!" Which is better? "You are not your own." 1 Corinthians 6:19 Remember that you must belong to someone. If God is not your master—the devil will be. If grace does not rule—sin will reign. If Christ is not your all in all—the world will be. We must have a master of one kind or another. Which is better . . . a bounteous benevolent Benefactor; a merciful, loving, and tender Parent; a kind, forgiving Father and Friend; a tender-hearted, compassionate Redeemer? or a cruel devil, a miserable world, and a wicked, vile, abominable heart? Which is better . . . to live under the sweet constraints of the dying love of a dear Redeemer—under . . . gospel influences, gospel principles, gospel promises, and gospel encouragements? or to live with sin in our heart, binding us in iron chains to the judgment of the great day? Even taking the 'present life'—there is more real pleasure, satisfaction, and solid happiness . . . in half an hour with God, in reading his Word with a believing heart, in finding access to His sacred presence, in knowing something of His favor and mercy— than in . . . all the delights of sin, all the lusts of the flesh, all the pride of life, and all the amusements that the world has ever devised to kill time and cheat self—thinking, by a deathbed repentance, at last to cheat the devil.

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PEARLS from PHILPOT - Volume 4

J.C. Philpot

J.C. Philpot (1802 - 1869)

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