Love and Grace of Christ in Suffering for Guilty Man
REMARKS ON WHAT PASSED ON A SACRAMENT DAY, SEPTEM. BER 13, 1747.
I MUST record this day as one of the most blessed of my life. God was pleased to meet me in my secret retirement in the morning, and poured into my soul such a flood of consolation in the exercises of faith and love, as I was hardly able to sustain. It would have been a relief to me to have been able even to have uttered strong cries of joy, O, how did I then wish for a melodious voice, and how gladly could I have made earth and heaven re-echo with praise! Family devotion was unutterably sweet; and although the pleasure of my sermon was much interrupted by an accidental disorder that happened in my throat while I was speaking, yet I bless God, that the sacramental attendance and the evening services were all beyond expression sweet. My soul was full of God, and of heaven.
The scripture on which the meditation turned was that in 1 Pet. iii. 18, “Christ also hath once suffered for sins, the just for the unjust, that he might bring us to God, being put to death in the flesh, but quickened by the Spirit.” I cannot express the view which was given me of the infinite love and grace of Christ in suffering for our cause “the just for the unjust,” which last circumstance I was enabled to own before God with great brokenness of heart and unfeigned humility. I explained the view I then had of the sufferings of Christ for us; the righteous instead of the unrighteous; who thus put himself between the sword of the Divine justice and our souls. I then related the story of the poor negro woman who saved Captain Falconer, then her husband, by putting herself betwixt him and the weapon of his enemy, and receiving the blow at the expense of her own life; which appeared to me a very affecting circumstance.
It was that we might be introduced to God, that he thus suffered. God will not see us, will not have any intercourse with us, until Christ undertakes to introduce us; then we are welcome — then the Father smiles: and this is actually done. Now we that were once afar off are brought nigh; are near him as his children; are the objects of his love, and brought near to be separated no more. What shall separate us from the love of God? Nothing can but sin. The rebels were put to death in the flesh, but quickened by the spirit: his Divine nature raised his human from the grave, and now he ever lives and reigns.
In breaking the bread, I had many sweet meditations, and particularly on those words, “I will raise him up at the last day.” John vi. 39, 40. And once more, in the compass of a few verses, “I will raise him up at the last day.” O how delightful! our resurrection is secure; we shall be raised up with, and like our Lord: he shall present us together with himself. My soul was even transported with the hope. This is the promise that was sealed to me so powerfully in my secret retirement, that it seemed as if I were just going to receive the full extent of the blessing, and almost as if the day of the Lord were come.
My heart was strongly drawn out in prayer to God for my fellow communicants, and for the spectators; as it was also in repeating a very affectionate sermon from Christ’s invitation, “Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.” Matt. xi. 28. I hope that God blessed it as the means of good to some persons; and I was particularly desirous that it might be so to Miss Saunders, the amiable daughter of my once honoured and beloved friend, for whom I had the hicrhest regard. Providence has brought her for awhile under my roof, in circumstances that demand my peculiar concern, as she has fallen into a sad negligence with regard to religion. My design is, if possible, to draw her to Christ; and I am in great hopes that God will favour me so far as to make me the means of some good to her soul. There is one token for good; which is, that I have perhaps hardly ever enjoyed more of the presence of God, especially in family prayer, than I have done since she came into the family. I would humbly hope also, that God is beginning to work, in some degree, upon the hearts of some of my younger pupils intended for secular life. On the whole, although I have a great many circumstances to lament in the congregation, I have a secret hope that God, who thus quickens my heart, will in due time quicken his work; and that, when he has exercised my faith awhile longer, he will appear to build up our ruins, and renew the face of the church, as he has in some measure done that of the Academy, by an accession of several new pupils, and those very pi’omising and delightful. At least, I hope that he will revive religion, more and more, in my heart; and although I have not been without some melancholy forebodings as to some future trials that may come upon me, yet I desire to leave myself entirely in his hands; and, confident of his gracious support, I would fear none of the things that I may suffer.