Improvement, by Way of Examination and Humiliation

Self-examination is the duty of every Christiarij not merely that he may ascertain whether his faith be genuine, but whether it be sufficiently operative. It ought not to be a frequent and undecided question with any one, — “Am I in reality a child of God?” but it should be a constantly recurring inquiry, “Is there any one branch of religious obligation, which, through the deceitfulness of the human heart, I do not feel 1 or, through a criminal heedlessness, I habitually neglect?” The object of self-examination, with a believer, is to supply those defects in his graces, and to put away those remains of his corruptions, which, though they may not prove that he has no piety, prove that he has less than he ought to have. For this purpose, he should often bring his actions and his motives to the standard, and try his whole profession; as well what he does that he should not do, as what he does not that he should do. If we are to exhort one another daily, lest any of us be hardened through the deceitfulness of sin, we surely ought to examine ourselves daily, for the same reason. Our guilty self-love is perpetually attempting to throw a veil over the sinful infirmities of our nature — to hide their criminality from our view; and thus to keep us in a state of false peace, by keeping us in ignorance. Against this deceitfulness of our heart, we can only be guarded by a frequent and close examination of our whole selves.

A frequent examination of our hearts and conduct is necessary, because of the multitude of our daily sins, which are often so minute as to escape the observation of a careless and superficial glance, and so numerous as to be forgotten from one day to another; and so, they either come not into notice, or pass out of recollection: and therefore they should be summed up every evening, and repented of, and forgiven, before we compose ourselves to sleep, — that nightly returning harbinger, and monitor, and image, of approaching death. The advantages of frequent examination are so many and so great, as to recommend the practice strongly to all who are deeply anxious about the welfare of their souls; by this means we shall not only detect many sins which would otherwise be lost in our attention to greater ones, but we shall more easily destroy them, and more speedily revive our languishing graces; just as a wound may with greater facility be cured while it is yet fresh and bleeding, and an extinguished taper, while yet it retains a strong sympathy for light, may be rekindled, either by the near contact of a neighbouring flame, or by the timely application of a little well directed breath. “Sins are apt to cluster and combine, when either we are in love with small sins, or when they proceed, from a careless and incurious spirit, into frequency and continuance; but we may easily keep them asunder by our daily prayers, and our nightly examinations, and our severe sentences: “for he that despiseth little things,” said the son of Sirach, “shall perish by little and little.” A frequent examination of our actions will tend to keep the conscience clear, so that the least fresh spot will be more easily seen; and so tender, that the least new pressure will be felt; for that which comes upon an already blotted page is scarcely discerned, and that which is added to an already great accumulation is hardly seen or felt, This, also, is the best way to make our repentance pungent and particular. But on this subject we shall have more to say presently. If self-examination be neglected for want of opportunity, it is plain that those, at least, who have their time at their own command and disposal are far too deeply involved in the business of the world and the labyrinths of care: no man ought to allow himself to be so taken up in looking into his secular pursuits, as to have no time to look into the state of his soul; and to be so greedy after gain, or so intent upon the objects of an earthly ambition, as to be careless about examining whether we are growing in grace, and increasing in the riches of faith and love, discovers a mind which either has no religion at all, or has reason to fear that it has none.

But besides that cursory retrospect which we should take every evening of the conduct of the day, a portion of time should be frequently set apart for the purpose of instituting a more minute and rigid inquiry into the state of our personal piety; when, taking in our hand the Word of God, we should descend with this candle of the Lord into the dark and deep recesses of the heart, enter every secret chamber, and pry into every corner to ascertain if anything be hiding itself there which is contrary to the mind and will of God. Many standards will be found in the Scriptures, all concurring with each other in general purpose and principles, by which this investigation of our spirits should be conducted. We now propose the law of love.

On these occasions of introspection, we should inquire how far our faith is working by love. I will conceive of a professing Christian who has set apart a portion of time,^say on a Saturday evening, before he is to eat on the next day the Lord’s supper; or on a Sabbath evening, when he has received the sacramental memorials of the Saviour’s love, to examine into the state, not only of his conduct, but the frame and temper of his spirit. He is anxious to know how far he is living so as to please God. We can imagine him, after having read the Scriptures, presenting his fervent supplications to God, in the language of the Psalmist, and saying, “Search me, O God, and know my heart; try me, and know my thoughts; and see if there he any wicked way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting.” He now enters upon the business of self-examination; and the subject of inquiry that evening is the frame of his heart towards his fellow creatures, the state of his mind in reference to the law of love, the measure of his charity, and the infirmities of his temper. Hear his holy colloquies with himself.” I have no just reason, thanks be to sovereign grace! to question whether I have received the fundamental doctrines of the Gospel. I believe my creed is sound; nor have I any serious ground for suspecting the sincerity of my faith, or the reality of my conversion: my conduct, too, so far as the estimate of man goes, has, through the help of God, been free from immorality. And though I may without presumption say that I love God, yet I am covered with confusion that my love is so weak and lukewarm. But my solemn business at this time is, to examine into the state and measure of my Christian charity; for I am persuaded that whatever knowledge, or faith, or seeming raptures, or supposed communion with God, I may lay claim to, — I am but a very imperfect Christian, if I am considerably deficient in love. Taking the apostolic description of this lovely virtue, I will bring my heart to the test.

“Do I then love, in his sense of the word ] Is my heart a partaker of this disposition ‘? Is the selfishness of my corrupt nature subdued, and made to give way to a spirit of universal benevolence; so that I can truly say I rejoice in happiness, and am conscious of a continual benevolent sympathy with universal being, and of a perpetual efflux of good-will to all creatures 1 Do I feel as if my own happiness were receiving constant accessions from the happiness of others; and that my soul, instead of living in her own little world within, an alien from the commonwealth of mankind, indifferent to all but herself, is in union and communion with my species 1 In short, do I know the meaning of the

Apostle’s emphatic expression, ‘He that dwelleth in love dwelleth in God, and God in him V But let me descend to particulars.

“What do I know of the forbearance of love? Can I suffer long, or am I easily provoked ] Am I patient under provocation; restraining my anger; keeping my wrath in subjection under the most provoking insults, amidst the basest ingratitude, or the most irritating scorn? In my intercourse with my brethren in Christ, am I quick to take offence by any real or supposed slight or impertinence? Am I so jealous of my own dignity, so sensitive, and irritable, as to be roused to anger by any little offence, and transported to wrath by more serious provocations? Am I revengeful under injuries; brooding over them in silence, cherishing the remembrance, and reviving the recollection of them, waiting for an opportunity to retaliate, and rejoicing in the sufferings which come upon those that injure me? or am I easily conciliated, most forward to forgive, and ever ready to return good for evil? How have I acted since my last season of self-examination in these particulars 1 Let me call to recollection my conduct, that I may see how far I have practised the duty, and exhibited the excellence of Christian meekness.

“Charity is kind. Is kindness — universal, constant, operative kindness — characteristic of my conduct? Is the law of kindness on my lips, its smile upon my countenance, and its activity in my life? or am I uncivil and uncourteous in speech, frowning and repulsive in my aspect, grudging and unfrequent in acts of generosity? Have I the character, among my neighbours and acquaintance, of a man who can be always depended upon for a favour, when it is needed? or, on the contrary, am I by general report, a very unlikely person to lend a helping han to a person in necessity? Are there any instances of unkindness which I can now call to remembrance, which have brought dishonour upon my reputation, guilt upon my conscience, reproach upon the cause of religion, and for which, therefore, I ought to seek the pardon of God through Christ!

“Charity envieth not. Am I subject to the tormenting influence of that truly diabolical temper by which a person is made miserable in himself, and to hate his neighbour or rival, on account of that neighbour’s or rival’s distinctions 1 Am I so truly infernal in my dispositions, as to sicken and pine at the sight of the success or happiness of others, and to cherish ill will on that account towards them] When I hear another praised and commended, do I feel a burning of heart within, and an inclination to detract from their fame, and to lower them in the estimation of those who applaud them; and do I secretly rejoice when anything occurs to lessen and lower them in public opinion, or to strip them of those distinctions which render them the objects of our dislike? or do I possess that true spirit ol love, which constrains me to rejoice with those that rejoice, to feel pleased with their prosperity, and to consider their happinesss as an accession to my own 1 Have I, indeed, that benevolence which delights so truly in felicity, as to make me glad at seeing it in the possession of an enemy or a rival?

“Charity vaunteth not itself, is not puffed up. Is this descriptive of my spirit, in reference to my own attainments and achievements? Am I lowly in my own eyes, clothed with humility, modest in the estimate I form of myself, and all that belongs to me? or am I proud, vain, and ostentatious; valuing and admiring myself on the ground of any personal, civil, ecclesiastical, or spiritual distinctions. Am I fond of exciting admiration, and obtaining applause? or am I content with the approbation of my own conscience, and the smile of God? Do I wish to make others feel their inferiority, and to suffer under a mortifying sense of it? or do I, from the most tender regard to their comfort, conceal, as much as possible, any superiority I may have over them; and make them easy and happy in my company? Do I indulge in haughty airs, or maintain a kind affability and an amiable condescension 1

“Charity doth not behave itself unseemly. Is it my study not to give uneasiness and offence, by anything unsuitable to my age, sex, rank, station and circumstances; anything rude, rough, impertinent, or unbecoming ] or am I continually disturbing the comfort of those around me, by indecorous and unsuitable behaviour ]

“Charity seeketh not her own. Am I habitually selfish, — anxious only for my own gratification, and building up my comfort to the annoyance or neglect of others? Am I indulging a penurious, avaricious disposition, — feasting upon luxuries, and refusing to minister to the relief of human misery, according to the proportion in which God has blessed me 1 or am I diffusing abroad my substance, considering that I am only a steward of what I hold, and must account for it all ] Am I overbearing and intolerant in discussion and debate, — wanting others to sacrifice their views, in order that I may have every thing my own way 1 or am I willing to concede and yield, and disposed to give up my own will to the general opinion, and for the general good 1

“Charity thinketh no evil. Am I suspicious, and apt to impute bad motives to men’s conduct? or am I generous and confiding — prone to think the best that truth will allow? Am I censorious, or candid 1 Do I feel more in haste to condemn, than to excuse, and more eager to blame than to exculpate?

“Charity rejoiceth not in iniquity, but rejoiceth in the truth. What is my disposition toward those who are my opponents 1 do 1 delight in, or mourn over, their faults? Do I so love them, as to be glad when, by their regard to truth and righteousness, they raise themselves in public esteem; and to be sorry when they injure their own cause, and give me an advantage over them by their errors and sins? Have I made that high attainment in virtue and piety, which leads me to delight in the righteousness of a rival, even when it may seem to exalt him? or am I still so destitute of love, as to say, in reference to his faults, * Ah! so would I have it V

“Charity covereth all things. Am I prone and anxious to conceal the failings of others, or to expose them 1 ‘Believeth all things.’ Am I credulous of whatever is to the advantage of a brother 1 ‘Hopeth all things.’ Where the evidence is not enough to warrant belief, do I indulge an expectation and desire that farther knowledge may explain the matter favourably 1

“Charity endureth all things. Am I willing to make any exertion, to bear any hardship, to sustain any reasonable loss, for the peace and welfare of others? or am I so fond of ease, so indolent, so selfish, as to give nothins: but mere ineffectual wishes for their comfort and well being ]

“What measure of holy love have I, — of that love which puts forth its energies in such operations as these 1 Do I so love God, and feel such a sense of his lov& to me, as to have my soul transformed into this divine temper? Does the love of Christ thus constrain me 1 Am I so absorbed in the contemplation of that stupendous display of divine benevolence, that unparalleled manifestation of infinite mercy, which was made in the cross of the Son of God, as to find the selfishness of my nature melted, and all its enmities subdued, by this most amazing and transporting scene 1 I feel, that without love, I cannot have entered into the meaning and design, the moral force and beauty of the great atonement; that I can have no disposition which properly corresponds to that august and interesting spectacle. I see that knowledge is not enough, that belief is not enough, that ecstacy is not enough, that hope is not enough; that, in fact nothing can come up to the demands, to the spirit, to the design, of a religion which has the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ for its central object, and grand support, and distinguishing glory, — but a temper of universal and practical benevolence. Have I this? If so. How much of it?’

Such should be the subject of diligent and frequent examination to every professing Christian.

Humiliation should follow examination.

The act of humbling and abasing ourselves before God, is a part of the duty — not only of sinners, when they make tUejr first application to the mercy seat for pardon — but of believers, through every successive stage of their Christian career. As long as we are the subjects of sin, we ought also to be the subjects of contrition. We may, through sovereign grace, have been justified by faith, and have been brought into a state of peace with God; but this does not render a very humbling sense and confession of our sins an exercise inappropriate to our state, any more than it is inconsistent with the relationship of a child to humble himself before his father, for those defects in his obedience, which, though they do not set aside his sonship, are unworthy of it. “If we say we have no sin,” says the Apostle, “we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us.” This language applies to believers, and not merely to unconverted sinners; and so does that which follows — “If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins, and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.” The most perfect assurance of hope does not release us from the duty of abasing ourselves before God; and if an angel were sent to assure us that we are in a state of acceptance with heaven, we should still lie under obligation to cultivate a contrite and penitential frame of mind. Sin, and not merely punishment, is the ground of humiliation. It is the most detestable selfishness to imagine, that, because we are freed from the penal consequences of sin, we are under no obligation to lie low in the dust. With what unutterable disgust we should look upon the individual who, because his life had been spared by royal clemency, when it might have been taken by national justice, acted, after his pardon, as if that very pardon had entitled him to forget his crime, and to five as carelessly and as confidently as he would have done had he never sinned. A pardoned sinner — and no believer is anything more — should ever be a humble and self-abased creature in the sight of God.

The subject we are now upon shows us what cause there is for humiliation before God. This frame of mind should not be founded upon, or produced, by mere general views of our depraved nature, but by particular apprehensions in reference to sinful practice; as long as our confessions are confined to mere acknowledgements of a depraved nature, our convictions of sin are not likely to be very deep, nor our sorrow for it very pungent. Such confessions will usually sink into mere formal and sorrowless acknowledgements of transgressions. It is by descending to details; it is the lively view and deep conviction of specific acts of transgressions, or defects in virtue; — that awakens and sharpens the conscience, and brings the soul to feel that godly sorrow which worketh repentance. One distinctly ascertained defect or transgression — especially if it be much dwelt upon in its extent, and influence, and aggravations — will do more to humble the soul, than hours spent in mere general confessions of a depraved nature.

There are many things, on the ground of which no self-abasement can be felt by the Christian who is walking in any degree of religious consistency. He cannot confess that which he has really not been guilty of: he cannot be humbled on account of any act of open immorality, for he has committed none. In reference to actual vice, he is to be thankful, not humble: he is to be humble, indeed, that he has a nature capable of it, if left of God; but he is to be thankful that he has not been permitted thus to disgrace himself It is sometimes to be regretted that good people, in their public confessions of sin, are not more definite than they are, and that they do not express the particular sins for which they seek forgiveness of God. Without using language that seems applicable to adultery, and robbery, and drunkenness, our defects in all Christian graces are so numerous and so great, that there is no degree of humiliation which is too deep for those defects and omissions of which the holiest man is guilty before God. And we have no need to go beyond the subject of this treatise, to find how exceedingly sinful and vile we must all be in the sight of God. Let us only call to remembrance the truly sublime description which the Apostle has given us of the divine nature, and to which, of necessity, we have so often referred, — “God is love,” — infinite, pure, and operative love; let us only recollect his wonderful patience, his diffusive kindness, his astonishing mercy even to his enemies; — and then consider that it is our duty to be like him — to have a disposition which, in pure, patient, and operative benevolence, ought to resemble his; that this was once our nature, and will be again, if we reach the celestial state: and surely in such a recollection, we shall find a convincing proof of our present exceeding sinfulness.

Let it not be replied, that this is subjecting us to too severe a test. By what test can we try our hearts, but the law of God 1 What a proof is it of sin, when we find that the instances In which we have committed it are so numerous, that we want to get rid of the law by which it is proved and detected 1 Oh! what a fallen nature is ours, and how low has it sunk! We are not now examining it in its worst state, as it is seen among Pagans and savages, or even the best of the heathen; nor as it is seen in the worst parts of Christendom; nor as it appears in the best of the unrenewed portions of mankind; — no; but as it is exhibited in the Church of Christ, in the enlightened and sanctified portions of the family of man.

Must we not, after this survey, exclaim with the Psalmist — “Who can understand his errors? cleanse thou me from secret faults!” Who can carry in his bosom a proud heart, or on his brow a lofty mien 1 Who can look with complacency upon his poor starveling graces, and doat with fond and pharisaic eyes upon his own righteousness 1 Who is not stripped at once, in his own view, of all his imperfect virtues; and presented to his own contemplation in the naked deformity of a poor, sinful, and imperfect creature, who has no ground for pride, but most ample and abundant cause for the deepest humiliation? Let the men who value themselves so highly on the ground of their moral dignity, and who are regarded by others as almost sinless characters, and who feel as if they had little or no occasion for the exercise of a penitential frame of mind; who pity as fanaticism, or scorn as hypocrisy, those lowly confessions which Christians make at the footstool of the divine throne; — let them come to this ordeal and try themselves by this standard, that they may learn how ill grounded is their pride, and how little occasion they have to boast of their virtue! Would they like that any human eye should be able to trace all the movements of their hearts, and see all the workings of envy, and suspicion, and wrath, and selfishness, which the eye of Deity so often sees there 1 Say not that these are only the infirmities of our nature, to which the wisest and the best of the human race are ever subject in this world of imperfection; because this is confessing how deeply depraved is mankind, even in their best state. Can envy, and pride, and selfishness, and suspicion, and revenge, be looked upon as mere piccadilloes, which call for neither humiliation nor grief? Are they not the germs of all those crimes which have deluged the earth with blood, filled it with misery, and caused the whole creation to groan together until now? Murders, treasons, wars, massacres, with all the lighter crimes of robberies, extortions, and oppressions, have all sprung up from these passions.

What need, then, have we all of that great sacrifice which beareth away the sin of the world 1 and what need of a perpetually recurring application, by faith and repentance, to that blood which speaketh better things than the blood of Abel, and which cleanseth from all sin ] What cause have we to repair nightly to the throne of grace, that we may obtain mercy; and daily, that we may find grace to help in time of need. With the eye of faith upon the propitiatory offering that was presented to Divine justice by the Son of God upon the cross, let us continually approach the awful Majesty of heaven and earth, saying — “God be merciful to me a sinner!”