Confession, Adoration, and Thanksgiving

“I said, I icill confess my transgressions unto the Lord; and thou forgavest the iniquity of my sin.”

“Be glad in the Lord, and rejoice, ye righteous; and shout for joy, all ye that are upright in heart.”

Although prayer, in its strictest sense, be the supplication of mercies for ourselves or others, the devotional exercises of believers are not confined to mere petitions. In the Psalms, and other Bible-specimens of prayer, we find acknowledgments of sin, the praises of the Divine perfections, and grateful ascriptions for good and perfect gifts bestowed; and, that our survey may be the more complete, we shall bestow the present discourse

N 2 on the threefold subject of Confession, Adoration, and Thanksgiving.

Were confession a mere act of self-mortification — did it end in mere regrets and self-reproaches — it would answer little end. The rash words which no compunction can recall — the wasted Sabbaths which no wishes can redeem — the broken hearts of distant days and departed friends, which no churchyard sighs can heal, and the demolished joys which no tears can create anew:

For violets pluck’d, the sweetest showers Can ne’er make grow again:

were confession merely the mental penance of remembering and brooding over these, there were no need to add it to the sum of human sorrow. But evangelical confession — that discovery and acknowledgment of the outstanding sins of his history, and the conspicuous sins of his character, as well as of the guilt of his original — which the Word of God requires from each of us, is for purposes totally different. Evangelical confession is the inlet to peace with God, and the outset of new obedience.

The great object cf self-examination should be to search out the sin with the express view, and on very purpose, to cast it into the sincancelling Fountain opened in the House of David; and then the confession will brine comfort to the sinner, when he thinks that the cleansing currents of atoning blood have washed his guilt away. Like the camp of Israel on the day of atonement: they all met — the most solemn fast of their year — before the tabernacle, in the morning very early, and after many other ceremonies, two goats were brought up to the high priest at the altar. He placed himself between them, and shook a box, in which were two little tablets, one inscribed “For Jehovah,” the other, “For Azazel.” When he drew the one, he said with a loud voice, “For Jehovah,” and placed the tablet on the head of the right-hand goat. Then lie confessed over it his own and the people’s sins, and slew it, and carried the blood into the Holy Place, as an atonement for his own sins and the people’s. The high priest then went to the goat “Azazel,” and put his hands upon its head, and confessed over it again the sins of

k 3 himself and the people; and, when this was done, an appointed person came forward and carried the goat away to the wilderness, where it should wander and be lost, or threw it over the rocks that it might return no more. It needed the twofold emblem to shadow Him whose atonement is at once the removal of guilt and the reparation for it; whose blood cleanseth from sin, and whose worthiness carrieth sin away. And, just as the believing Israelite who could see the Lord’s meaning in the touching token — as that Israelite would accompany, with earnest heart, the priest as he made confession over the victim’s head, and would feel that his guilt was figuratively transferred to this innocent substitute; so, brethren, it is for us to confess our trespasses over His head who is the propitiation for the sins of the world, and on whom the Lord hath really laid the iniquities of us all. And if we do this — if we make the deliberate transference of our guilt to this all-sufficient substitute — like the Israelite who saw the trickling blood of the one victim, and felt, “Surely there is a sacrifice for sin. Let this blood be for mine;” so, looking to the wounded, dying

Surety, we can securely feel, “This is not the blood of bulls or of goats, but a better sacrifice. This is the precious blood of God’s only and well-beloved Son, shed for many. Let it flow for me. Jesus! be thou my righteousness — be thou the reparation for my sin.” And then, as the Israelite saw the strong man leading the other goat away into the wilderness, and gazed with interest after them till they disappeai-ed in the gray horizon, and felt, “There! the sin is away into a land not inhabited. It is lost — forgotten; if sought for, it cannot again be found.” So, if you sincerely transfer your sin to the Saviour, the Lamb of God will take it away. It will vanish from God’s sight. It will be counted as if it had never been. You will be dealt with not only as one who has made expiation, but as one in whom there is no iniquity. You will be, in God’s sight, as innocent; and that sin will never be punished in you which the Son of God hath atoned for, and which the Lamb of God hath taken away.

ADORATION.

The heart is the noblest part of human nature, and God says, “My son, give me thine heart.” And, just as the affections are the noblest ingredient in human nature, so the elevation and happiness of a human being mainly depend on the right bestowment and ample exercise of these affections. To be self-sufficient and self-seeking — that is, to keep all the affections to one’s self — is the meanest and most miserable predicament a creature can be in. The homestead of a finite spirit — much more the desolate chamber of a sinful heart — does not contain resources enough for its own blessedness. The soul must go out from itself if it would find materials of joy. It must love its neighbour, or it must love the works of God, or it must love its family, or its circle of friendship, if it would not be absolutely dreary and forlorn. And just as the soul’s happiness depends on going out from itself, so its elevation depends on its going up — depends on its setting its affections on something higher than itself — something nobler, or holier, or more engaging.

The main part of true religion is the right bestowment of the affections. When these are set on the things above — on God and on Jesus who sitteth at God’s right hand — they are set as high as a seraph can set his. They are set so high that they cannot fail to lift the character along with them, and make his a peculiar life whose ends in living are so lofty. A self-forgetting devotion to some noble earthly character has exerted a refining and elevating influence on many. Veneration for some illustrious sage has sometimes quickened a sluggard into a scholar, and enthusiastic attachment to a high-souled patriot has been known to kindle up an idler into a hero. But there is only One of character so lofty, and of influence so transforming, that love to him will convert a sinner into a saint. Such a One, however, there is, and it is the business of the Gospel to make him known.

When required to love the Lord with all their heart and soul and strength of mind, many feel as if they were asked to perform an impossibility. So vague, in general, are their notions of the Great Jehovah, that they feel much the same as if they were asked to love the principle of gravitation, or as if they were bidden bestow all their heart and mind on a fixed star, or as if they were invited to lay up treasure in a cloud, or told to set their affections on infinite space. I appeal to yourselves, — Have not many of you felt something of this sort? The command, “Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart,” has it not often fallen on your ear in comfortless tones, rather as the funeral knell of your earthly affections than as the joyous summons to a present and attainable blessedness? Have you not rather felt it as a command to kill your earthly delights, than as an invitation to superadd a delight beyond them all? Have you not felt that the nearest approach to obedience you could make would be to cut the cords that bind you to the earth in sunder, and, seeing that you cannot love One so utterly beyond your conceptions, that you had better cease to love altogether?

This is the tendency of some books and systems. To love an abstract and impersonal God is Platonism. It is mysticism; but it is not Christianity. The God whom the Gospel bids us view, and whom Jesus bade us love, is not a distant power nor a dim abstraction. He is not a mere presence, nor a mere principle. He is not the most vague of all diffusions, and the most general of all general laws. But he is “the living God” — of all beings the most truly living — possessing, in intensest measure, all that is truly excellent, and which has won our veneration in our fellow men; combining in himself all that goodness which has ever arrested, or affected, or entranced us, in the objects of our earthly admiration; not only wiser than the wisest, but more loving than the most affectionate — taking a kinder and wiser interest in us than the friend to whom, perhaps, we have devoted our earthly all, and more present with us than the most anxious friend can be. This Living God — possessing perfections at whose outburst the eye of an archangel dazzles — possesses also that power of special condescension and individual interest which can make him, to any one, most truly a friend and a perfect brother. If you be on a right footing with Him — a footing of friendship and loyalty — he is omnipotent, and able to devote the same regard to all your interests as if immensity contained nothing else to attract his notice. He is omniscient, and able to keep you more constantly in his eye, and bear you more continually in his loving thoughts, than you are able to watch over the child, or to think of the friend that is dearest. And though he be a consuming fire, — though there be that in his holiness which is burning antipathy to sin — there is nothing in this holiness to hinder the humble soul from reposing on his faithfulness as securely as meekest brow ever rested on the fondest father’s bosom. In the only aspect in which mortal eye can view him — in the person of Immanuel — the Living God draws near and says, “Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart and with all thy soul and with all thy strength and with all thy mind.” Thou shalt love — not Fate — not Providence — not Eternity — not Immensity — not Goodness — it is not even said the Deity — but “Thou shalt love the Lord thy God” — the God of the Bible — the great I Am — the Living God — Jehovah — the most majestic, yet most loving and most lovely of all beings — thou shalt love the Lord with all thy soul.

Love Him of whom the earth saw, not merely a living, but an incarnate, specimen in the person of Jesus Christ.

Whatever Platonists and mystics and transcendentalists may pretend to the contrary, and whatever a theology, tinctured by these human notions, may daily teach, if we would love God at all, we must look to the God of the Bible. It may be difficult to love the “First Cause” of the philosophers, or the Divine Essence of the schoolmen, or the far-off abstraction of the mystics, — but to love Immanuel, God with us, surely this is possible. By the door of the incarnation to get into some knowledge of God, and so into some love, — surely this is possible. To perceive the friendly disposition of the High and Holy One, even towards our wretched and guilty selves, is possible, when we look to the co-equal Son pouring out his blood a ransom for many. To apprehend his gentle and benignant bearing towards his own is easy when we look at John on the bosom of Jesus, — yes, John on the bosom of God. And to see how much, not only of awful majesty and spotless sanctity, but how much of genial

o goodness and sweetest loveliness, how much of truest tenderness and heart - attracting graciousness there was in the Son of Mary, and yet doubt whether the living God be worthy of our love; dear brethren, which of you will answer, — This is possible? “That which was from the beginning, which we have heard, which we have seen with our eyes, which we have looked upon, and our hands have handled of the Word of Life, (for the life — the Living One — was manifested, and we have seen him,) that which we have seen and heard declare we unto you, that ye also may have fellowship with us; and truly our fellowship is with the Father, and with his Son Jesus Christ. And these things write we unto you, that your joy may be full.”

It is a simple truth, — but oh that its starry letters sparkled in every eye! — would that its daily echo haunted every ear! The Incarnation is as truly our door of entrance into all right knowledge of God as the Atonement is our passport to heaven. The living person of Jesus is our theology as truly as the finished work of Jesus is our righteousness.

We can reach no heaven except that which Immanuel bought for us, and we can know nothing of God except that which Immanuel is to us. But all that Immanuel was or is, all this the ever-blessed Godhead is; and ours is New-Testament divinity and ours is Christian worship, when in Jesus “Christ Ave recognise “The Alpha and Omega, the beginning and the ending, which is, and which was, and which is to come, the Almighty.”

And having discovered — so far as finite powers and this dim world admit of — what the true God really is, cultivate each reverent and trustful and admiring disposition toward him. Study his perfections on very purpose to enkindle praise, and when any fair scene in creation makes your heart right glad, or when any marvellous event in Providence solemnizes your spirit, let the thought of the Omnipotent Creator and Ruler convert it into present adoration. In the various revolutions of your worldly lot, and the changeful moods of feeling, let the recollection of the Divine perfections and recourse to the living God, be the instant asylum of your soul. Are you

o 2 weary with the world’s hoisterousness — with the rough and high-handed ways of ungodly men? Seek the calm sanctuary of God’s own presence. “Though a host encamp against me, one thing have I desired of the Lord — that will I seek after; that I may dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life, to behold the beauty of the Lord, and to inquire in his temple. For in the time of trouble he shall hide me in his pavilion; in the secret of his tent shall he hide me.” Are you damped by the disappointment of some hope, or the downfall of some joy which you have long been rearing? Think of the permanence of God, and the perpetuity of those joys which are at his own right hand, and in which he himself is part; and learn to build your blessedness on the Rock of Ages. Are you shut out from engagements which once were very sweet — society, recreations, and pursuits, in which you could indulge without satiety, and with ever-growing zest? Learn to live upon God, and, like that prisoner of the Lord who beguiled her ten years’ captivity with psalms, and who declares that the heavenly society of her cell made “its stones look like rubies,”* try to sing:

How pleasant is all that I meet,

From fear of adversity free;
I find every sorrow made sweet,

Because ‘t is assign’d me by thee.

Thy will is the treasure I seek,

For thou art as faithful as strong;
There let me, obedient and meek,

Repose myself all the day long.

My spirit and faculties fail;

Oh! finish what love has begun,
Destroy what is sinful and frail,

And dwell in the soul thou hast won.

Oh, glory! in which I am lost,
Too deep for the plummet of thought,

On an ocean of Deity toss’d,
I am swallow’d, I sink into nought.

Yet lost and absorb’d as I seem,

I chant to the praise of my King; And though overwhelm ‘d by the thought,

Am happy whenever I sing.

Do you grieve for the fickleness of man, and mourn over friendships which have dried like summer-brooks? If the fault be not your own, think of the unchanging Friend whose

* Madame Guion. o 3 mercy is in the heavens, and whose kindness is unaffected by the influences which make such havoc in the affections of earth. Do you feel the flesh fading? Then say, “Whom have I in heaven but thee? and there is none upon earth that I desire beside thee. My flesh and my heart faileth; but God is the strength of my heart and my portion for ever.” Do you begin to wonder what is to become of your own mouldered dust and that of many dear to you, when long ages have slipped away, and the inscription on your tomb is a dead language? Do not err, forgetting the Scriptures. Think of the great power of God. Remember who hath said, “I am the Resurrection and the Life; he that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live.” And thus, whatever be the grief, the vacancy, or fear, learn to find the antidote in God.

THANKSGIVING.

Adoration is devout emotion awakened by the thought of what Jehovah is, — the praise of the Divine perfections. Thanksgiving is delighted meditation on what the Lord has done for us or others — praise for his merries. Such praise is “comely.” Just as there is meanness in constant murmuring, so there is a gracefulness and majesty in habitual gratitude. And it is “pleasant.” It is not the full purse and the easy calling, but the full heart, the praising disposition, which makes the blessed life; and vof all personal gifts, that man has got the best who has received the quick discerning eye, the promptly -joyful soul, the ever-praising spirit.

And, my dear friends, in searching for the materials of gratitude, you have not far to go. If you have a lawful pursuit — a business to which, with a clear conscience, you can devote your energy — and a possession which raises you above the woes of penury; if you have contentment within, and affection around, you are a wealthy and a favoured man. Your daily lot may well be your daily wonder; and when other texts are exhausted, you may find a theme for thanksgiving in your very home — a Hosannah in the blazing hearth, and a Jubilate in each joj7ful voice and merry sound that echoes through your dwelling. But there are signal mercies, memorable interpositions and marvellous deliverances, which should be signalized by memorable thanksgivings. Remarkable interpositions are rare, but that life is rarer in which there has been no remarkable rescue, no signal interposition of Providence. Just see. Is there any one here present whose life has moved so smoothly that no accident ever endangered it, and that he cannot quote the time when there was but a hair-breadth betwixt him and death? The boat was upset, but you were saved. You intended going by the vessel that foundered at sea, but were unaccountably hindered. You passed along, and three seconds afterwards the tottering wall crashed down. You still preserve the hat that was grazed by the bullet, or the book that received the shot instead of yourself. And how did you feel at the time? When you fell from the precipice, or were thrown headlong from your startled steed, and rose uninjured, did all your bones say, “Who is like unto thee, O Lord?” When you just escaped the fatal missile, was gratitude to your gracious Preserver your first emotion, or did you merely thank your stars, and congratulate yourself on your singular luck? And when the active arm saved you from drowning, or from being crushed to death in the crossing, when deposited on the place of safety you were pale, or you laughed wildly, or you clung to the arm of your deliverer, for the danger was dreadful; but have you since praised the Lord for his goodness, and for his wonderful work in saving you then? And do you adoringly remember it still? Whoso is wise, and will observe these things, even they shall understand the loving-kindness of the Lord.

Then, farther, there are moral perplexities and painful dilemmas; times of heart-trouble and fearful foreboding, followed by times for thanksgiving. “I love the Lord because he hath heard my voice and my supplications. The sorrows of death compassed me, and the pains of hell gat hold upon me; I found trouble and sorrow. Then called I upon the name of the Lord; O Lord! I beseech thee, deliver my soul. Gracious is the Lord and righteous; yea, our God is merciful. I was brought low, and he helped me. Return unto thy rest, O my soul! for the Lord hath dealt bountifully with thee. For thou hast delivered my soul from death, mine eyes from tears, and my feet from falling.” You were in some desperate crisis of your history, and unless the Lord had made bare his mighty arm, you saw nothing for it but disaster, confusion, and disgrace. But in that vale of Achor the Lord opened a door of hope. He raised up friends unlooked for, or sent supplies unhoped for, and step by step he opened up a gentle path, till you found yourself in a large place, and at gladsome liberty. And “what shall I render unto the Lord, for all his benefits toward me? I will take the cup of salvation, and call upon the name of the Lord. I will pay my vows unto the Lord now, in the presence of all his people. I will offer to thee the sacrifice of thanksgiving, and will call upon the name of the Lord.”

And the crowning mercies — the sweetest and the surest — the most precious and most lasting — have you tasted spiritual mercies? “Then blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who hath blessed us with all spiritual blessings in Christ; according as he hath chosen us in him before the foundation of the world, that we should be holy and without blame before him in love.” Have you heard of the Saviour? Then “Thanks be to God for his unspeakable gift.” Have you found the pardon of sin? Then “Bless the Lord, O my soul! and forget not all his benefits, who forgiveth all thine iniquities; who as far as the east is from the west, so far hath removed my transgressions from me.” “Have you the lively hope to light you on your way through life? “Then blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who according to his abundant mercy hath begotten us again unto a lively hope by the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, to an inheritance incorruptible, reserved in heaven for us.” Have you found the promises fulfilled? “Blessed be the Lord that hath given rest unto his people, according to all that he promised. There hath not failed one word of all his good promise.” Have you received an answer to your prayers? “I will praise thee, for thou hast heard me, and art become my salvation. I called upon the Lord in distress: the Lord answered me and set me in a large place. Oh, give thanks unto the Lord, for he is good: for his mercy endureth for ever.”

It is written of that seraphic Christian, Joseph Alleine, “Love and joy and a heavenly-mind were the internal part of his religion, and the large and fervent praises of God and thanksgiving for his mercies, especially for Christ, and the Spirit, and Heaven, were the external exercises of it. He was not negligent in confessing sin, but praise and thanksgiving were his natural strains; his longest, most frequent, and hearty services. He was no despiser of a broken heart, but he had attained the blessing of a healed and joyful heart.” And this is indeed the most blessed life — the most uplifted — the most impressive and most heavenly. The Lord wills his people to be happy. He has provided strong consolation for them, and he desires that their enraptured pi’aises and joyful lives should speak good of his name. Dear brethren, aspire at habitual thankfulness. Covet earnestly a life of prevailing cheerfulness and praise. Seek to have your souls often brimming over with holy gladness. Bring them into broad contact with every happy thing around you — not with every mad and foolish thing — but with every thing on which

God’s countenance shines, and in which his joy-awakening Spirit stirs. Rejoice with a rejoicing universe. Rejoice with the morning stars, and let your adoring spirit march to the music of hymning spheres. Rejoice with the jocund Spring in its gush of hope and its dancing glory — with its swinging insect-clouds, and its suffusion of multitudinous song; and rejoice with golden Autumn as he rustles his grateful sheaves, and claps his purple hands, as he breathes his story of fruition, his anthem of promises fulfilled — as he breathes it softly in the morning stillness of ripened fields, or flings it in JEolian sweeps from lavish orchards and from branches tossing bounty into mellow winds. Rejoice with infancy as it guesses its wondering way into more and more existence, and laughs and carols as the field of pleasant life enlarges on it, and new secrets of delight flow in through fresh and open senses. Rejoice with the second youth of the heaven-born soul — as the revelations of a second birth pour in upon it, and the glories of a new world amaze it. Rejoice with the joyful believer when he sings, “O Lord! I will praise thee: though thou wast angry with me, thine anger is turned

r away and thou comfortest me. Behold, God is my salvation.” Rejoice with him whose incredulous ecstasy has alighted on the great Gospel-secret — whose eye is beaming as none can beam, save that which for the first time beholds the Lamb — whose awe-struck countenance and uplifted hands are evidently exclaiming, “This is my beloved and this is my friend.” Rejoice with saints and angels, as they rejoice in a sight like this. Rejoice with Immanuel, whose soul now sees of its travail. Rejoice with the ever-blessed Three, and with a heaven whose work is joy. “Be glad in the Lord, and rejoice, ye righteous; and shout for joy, all ye that are upright in heart”