Sins and sorrows spread before God

Sins and sorrows spread before God (1840s)
by Isaac Watts
3444976Sins and sorrows spread before God1840sIsaac Watts

SINS AND SORROWS

SPREAD

BEFORE GOD:

A SERMON,

BY THE REV. ISAAC WATTS.

GLASGOW:

PRINTED FOR THE BOOKSELLERS.

SINS AND SORROWS

SPREAD BEFORE GOD.


Job xxiii. 3, 4.

Oh that I knew where I might find him! that I
might come even to his seat! I would order
my cause before him, and fill my mouth with
arguments.


There is such a thing as converse with God in prayer, and it is the life and pleasure of a pious soul; without it we are no Christians; and he that practises it most, is the best follower of Christ, for our Lord spent much time in converse with his heavenly Father. This is the balm that eases the most raging pains of the mind, when the wounded conscience comes to the mercy-seat, and finds pardon and peace there. This is the cordial that revives and exalts our natures, when the spirit, broken with sorrows and almost fainting with death, draws near to the almighty Physician, and is healed and refreshed. The mercy-seat in heaven is our surest and sweetest refuge in ever hour of distress and darkness on earth; this is our daily support and relief, while we are passing through a world of temptations and hardships in the way to the promised land. “It is good for us to draw near to God.” Psal. lxxiii. 28.

And yet so much is human nature sunk down and fallen from God, that even his own children are ready to indulge a neglect of converse with him, if their souls are not always upon the watch. But let it be remembered here, that so much as we abate of this divine entertainment among the vanities or amusements of the world, the businesses or burdens of life; so much we lose of the glory and joy of religion, and deprive our souls of the comfort that God invites us to receive.

Job was encompassed with sorrows all around, and his friends had censured him as a vile hypocrite, and a great sinner, because he was so terribly afflicted by the land of God: whither should he run now but to his heavenly Father, and tell him of all his sufferings?

From the practice of this holy man, I thought we might have sufficient warrant to draw this inference, viz. that when a saint gets near to God in prayer, he tells him all his circumstances, and pleads for help. And this is the doctrine which I am endeavouring now to improve. O if I could but come near him; I would spread all my concerns before his eye, and I would plead with him for relief; I would fill my mouth with arguments.

Four things I proposed in the prosecution of this doctrine.

I. To consider what it is for a soul to get near to God in prayer.

II. What particular subjects doth a soul, thus brought near to the mercy-seat, converse with God about.

III. Why he cnuses to tell all his circumstances and his sorrows to God, when he is thus near him.

IV. How he pleads for relief.

I. We have already considered what it is for a soul to get near to the seat of God, and what are the usual attendants of such a privilege. At such a season the holy soul will have an awful and adoring sense of the majesty of God, a becoming fear of his terrors, and some sweeter taste of his love. There will be a divine hatred of every sin, and a sensible virtue and influence proceeding from a present God, to resist every temptation; there will be a spiritual and heavenly temper diffusing itself through the whole soul, and all the powers of it; a fixedness of heart without wandering; and a liveliness without tiring; no weariness is felt in the spirit at such a season, even though the flesh may be ready to faint under the overpowering sweetness; then the soul with freedom opens itself before the eye of God, and melts and flow in divine language, whether it complain or rejoice. But I have finished this head, and repeat no more.

II. What are some of the particular circumstances or subjects of complaint, that a saint brings to God when he comes near to him.

In general, a saint, when he is near to God, has all the fulness of his heart breaking out into holy language; he pours out his whole self before his God and his Father; all the infinite affairs that relate to the flesh and spirit, to this life and that which is to come; all things in heaven, and all things on earth, created or uncreated, may, at one time or other, be the subjects of converse between God and a holy soul. When the question is asked by a carnal man, “What can a Christian talk with God so long and so often about?” The Christian, in a divine frame, answers, “He that hath matter enough for converse with God, to wear out time, and to fill up eternity.” It may as well be asked on the other side, What has he not to say? What is there that relates to God, or to himself, to the upper, or the lower world, that he may not at some time say to his God?

But I must confine myself from wandering in so large a field, that I may comport with the design of my text. Though a good man, in devout prayer often spreads his hopes and his joys before the Lord as well as his sorrows, fear, and distresses; yet I shall at present endeavour to set forth only the mournful and complaining representations of his eireumstances that he makes before the throne of God.

I. If I could but come near the merey-seat, I would confess how great my sins are, and I would pray for pardoning graee. I would say, “How vile I am by nature;” I would count my original descent from Adam the great transgressor, and humble myself at the foot of a holy God, because I am the descent of such a sinner. I would tell him how much viler I have made myself by practiee: “I have been an enemy in my mind by nature, and guilty of many wicked works, whereby I have farther estranged myself from him.” I would tell my God how multiplied my transgressions have been before I knew him, and how aggravated they have been since I have been aequainted with him. I would acquaint him with the frequency of my returning guilt, how I have sinned against mercies, against reproofs, against warnings received often from his word, and often from his providenee.

I may appeal to the souls of many present, whether they have not had the greatest freedom of confession of their sins when they have been nearest to God, even though he be a God of holiness. At other times they have not only been averse to confess to any friend, but even unwilling to talk over to themselves the aggravation of their iniquities, or to mention them in prayer; but when they are brought thus near the throne of God, they unbosom themselves before him, they pour out their sins and their tears together, with a sweet and mournful satisfaction.

“I behold (says the saint) the great atonement, the blood of Jesus, and therefore I may venture to confess my great iniquities, for the satisfaction is equal to them all. When I behold God upon his seat, I behold the Lamb in the midst of the throne as it had been slain, and he is my Peace-maker. I see his all-sufficient sacrifice, his atoning blood, his perfect, his justifying righteousness.” The soul then answers the call of God with great readiness, when God says in Isaiah i. 18. “Come let us reason together; though your sins have been as scarlet, they shall be as wool.” “I am ready (says the soul) to enter into such reasonings; I am ready to confess before thee, that my sins are all crimson and scarlet, but there is cleansing blood with thy Son. Blood that has washed the garments of a thousand sinners, and made them as white as snow; and it has the same virtue still to wash mine too; I trust in it, and rejoice when I behold that blood sprinkled upon the mercy-seat, and therefore I grow confident in hope, and draw yet nearer to God, a reconciled God, since his throne has the memorials of a bleeding saerifiee upon it.”

2. If I could get nearer the seat of God I would tell him how many my enemies are, and how strong; how malicious, and how full of rage. And I would beg strength against them, and victory over them. I would say as David, “Many there be that hate me, many there be that rise up against me, and many there be that say of my soul, There is no help for him in God; but thou, O God, art my glory, my shield, and the lifter up of my head,” Psal. iii. Then, says the soul, I would complain to God of all my indwelling corruptions, of the body of death that dwells in me, or in which I dwell; and say; “ O wretehed man that I am, who shall deliver me!” I would tell him then of the secret working of pride in my heart, though I long to be humble; of the rising of ambition in my soul, though I would willingly maintain a middle state amongst men, and not aim and aspire to be great. I would aequaint him of the vanity of my own mind, though I am perpetually endeavouring to subdue it. I would tell him, with tears, of my sinful passions, of my anger and impatience, and the workings of envy and revenge in me; of the perpetual stirrings of disorderly appetites, whereby I am led away from my God; I would tell him of the hardness of my heart, and the obstinacy of my temper. I would open before his eyes all the vices of my eonstitution; all those saered seeds of iniquity that are ever budding and blossoming to bring forth fruit to death. These things are fit to mourn before the Lord, when the soul is come near to his seat.

I would complain of this sore enemy, the world, that is perpetually besetting me, that strikes upon all my senses, that by the ears, and the eyes, and all the outward faculties, draws my heart away from God my best friend. I would tell him of the rage of Satan, that watchful and malicious adversary; that I cannot engage in any duty of worship but he is ready to throw in some foolish or vain suggestion to divert me; and I would look forward, and point to my last enemy, death, and beg the presenee of my God with me, when I walk through the dark valley; “Lord, when I enter into that conflict, assist me, that I may fear no evil, but be made more than a conqueror through him that has loved me.”

3. I would tell him what darkness I labour under, either in respeet of faith or practice. If I am perplexed in my mind, and entangled about any of the doetrines of the gospel, I would tell them my God what my entanglements are, where the difficulty lies; and I would beg, that by his Spirit and his word, he would solve the controversy, and set his own truth before me in his own divine light. And then in point of praetice, what darkness lies upon the spirit at such a time, is revealed before God: “My way is hedged up, I know not what path to chuse; it is very hard for me to find out duty; show me, O Lord, the way wherein I should walk, and mark out my path plain for me.

4. I would mourn, and tell him how little converse I have with himself, how much he is hidden from me; I would complain to him, how far off I am from him the most part of my life, how few are the hours of my communion with him, how short is the visit, how much his face is concealed from me, and how far my heart is divided from him. A soul then says, “Surely there is too great a distance between me and my God, my heavenly Father;” and cries out with bitterness, “ Why is God so far from me, and why is my heart so far from God? How often do I wait upon him in his own sanctuary, and among his saints, but I am not favoured with a sight of his power and glory there! And how often do I seek him in my secret retirements, but I find him not! I would tell him how often I read his promises in the gospel, and taste no sweetness; I go frequently to those wells of consolation and they seem to be dry; then I turn my face, and go away ashamed.”

5. I would tell him too of my temporal troubles, if I get near to God, because they unfit me for his service. They make me uncapable of honouring him in the world, and render me unfit for enjoying him in his ordinances; I would tell him how they damp my zeal, how they bow my spirit down, and make me go mourning all the day long, to the dishonour of Christianity, which is a dispensation of grace and joy. Thus I might complain before God of pains, of weakness, of sickness, of the disorders of my flesh; I might complain there too of the weakness of all my powers, the want of memory, the scatterings and confusions that are upon any thoughts, the wanderings of my fancy, and the unhappy influence that a feeble and diseased body has upon the mind: “O my God, how am I divided from thee by dwelling in such a tabernacle! Still patching up a tottering cottage, and wasting my best hours in a painful attendance on the infirmities of the flesh!”

I might then take the liberty of spreading before my God all the sorrows and vexations of life, that unhinge my soul from its centre, that throw it off from my guard, and hurry and expose me to daily temptations. I might complain of my reproaches from friends and enemies; because these, many times, wear out the spirit and unfit it for acts of lively worship. These are my weekly sorrows and groans, these are my daily fears and troubles; and these shall be spread before the eyes of my God, in the happy hour when I get near him.

Lastly, I would not go away without a word of pity and complaint concerning my relations, my friends and acquaintance, that are afar off from God. I would put in one word of petition for them that are careless unconcerned for themselves; I would weep a little at the seat of God for them: I would leave a tear or two at the throne of mercy, for my dearest relatives in the flesh, for children, brothers or sisters, that they may be brought near to God, in the bonds of the Spirit. Then would I remember my friends in Christ, my brethren and kindred in the gospel; such as labour under heavy burdens, languish under various infirmities of life, or groan under the power of strong temptations. When God indulges me the favour of his ear, I would spread their wants and sorrows before him, together with my own, and make supplication for all the saints. I would leave a petition at the mercy-seat for my native country, that knowledge and holiness may overspread the nation; that our king may be a nursing-father to the church, and our princes may be blessings to the land. And while I send up my request for the British Islands, I would breathe out many a sigh for Zion, that she may be the joy of the whole earth.— I proceed now to.

III. The third head of inquiry, which is this: Why does a saint, when he gets near to God delight to tell him all his circumstances, and all his sorrows?

In general I might say this, because it is so seldom, at least in our day, that a saint gets very near to God; therefore when he finds that happy minute, he says to his God all he wants to say; he tells him all his heart; he pours out all his wants before him; because these seasons are very few. It is but here and there an extraordinary Christian, who maintains constant nearness to God; the best complain of too much distance and estrangement. But to descend to particulars.

1. He is our chief friend, and it is an ease to the soul to vent itself in the bosom of a friend, when we are in his company. More especially as it was in the case of Job, when other friends failed him when he began to tell them some of his sorrows, and withal maintained his own integrity; they would not believe him, but became his troublers instead of his comforters; “My friends, scorn me,” saith Job, ch. xvi. 20, but mine eye pours out tears to God. I go to my best friend, my friend in heaven, when my friends here on earth negleet me.

Man is a sociable creature, and our joys and our sorrows are made to be communicated, that hereby we may double the one and alleviate the other. There is scarce any piece of human nature, be it ever so stupid, but feels some satisfaction in the pleasure of a friend, in communicating the troubles and the pleasures that it feels; but those that have God for their highest and best friend, they love to be often exercising such acts of friendship with him, and rather with him than with any friend besides, rather with him than all besides him. This is the noblest and highest friendship; all condescension and compassion on the one side, and all infirmity and dependance on the other! and yet both joined is mutual satisfaction. Amazing grace of God to man! The Christian rejoices in this admirable divine indulgence, and delights in all opportunities to employ and improve it.

Besides, this is the way to maintain the vigour of piety, and keep all the springs of divine love ever open and flowing in his own heart; therefore he makes many a visit to the mercy-seat, and takes occasion from every troublesome occurrence in life, to betake himself to his knees, and improves every sorrow he meets on earth, to increase his acquaintance with heaven. He delights to talk all his grievances over with his God. Hannah, the mother of Samuel, is a blessed example of this practice, 1 Sam. i. 10. When she was in bitterness of soul, by reason of a sore afflietion, and the teazing humour of her rival, she prayed to the Lord, and wept sore; and when she had left her sorrows at the mercy-seat, she went away, and did eat, and her eountenanee was no more sad, ver. 18. So saith the Christian, “I commit my sorrows to my God, he is my best friend, and I go away, and am no more sad; I have poured out my cares into his ear, and east my burdens upon him, and I leave thein there in peace”

2. The saint knows God will understand him right, and will judge right concerning his case and his meaning. Though the expression (it may be) are very imperfect, below the common language of men, and propriety of speech, yet God knows the meaning of the soul, and he knows the mind of his Spirit, Rom. viii. The friends of Job perverted his sense; therefore he turns aside to God, for he knows God would understand him. It is a very great advantage, when we spread our coneerns before another person, to be well assured that person will take us right, will take in our meaning fully, and judge aright concerning our eause. Now we may be assured of this when we speak to our God; he knows our thoughts afar, off, and all our circumstances, better infinitely than we can tell him. These our poor imperfect expressions of our wants, shall be no hinderance to his full supplies, nor any bar to his exercise of friendship toward us.

3. A saint pours out his soul before God, because he is sure of secrecy there. How many things are there transacted between God and a holy soul, that he could never publish to the world! and many things also that concern his conduct in life, his embarassment of spirit, his difficulties, his follies, or the obstinacy, guilt, or follies of his friends or relatives, which prudence or shame forbid him to tell his fellow creatures: and yet he wants to spread thein all before God his best friend, God his dearest relative, the friend nearest to his heart. There may be circumstances and cases in life, especially in the spiritual life, which one Christian could hardly communicate to another, though under the strictest bonds and ties of natural, and civil, and sacred relation; though we may communicate these very affairs, these secret concerns, with our God, and unburden our souls of every care, without the least public notice.

We cannot be perfect secure of this with regard to any creature; for when we have experienced the faithfulness of a friend many years, he may possibly be at last unfaithful: unfaithfulness is mingled with our nature since the fall, and it is impossible any person can be infallibly secure from it. Psal. lxii. 9. Men of low degree are vanity, and great men are a lie; but we may leave our case with our God, as secure as though we had communicated it to none: nay, we may be easily secure and free in speaking, because God knows all before-hand. Our complaint adds nothing to his knowledge, although it eases our souls, and gives us sweet satisfaction in having such a friend to speak to.

4. A saint believes the equity, faithfulness, and the love of God; therefore he spreads his case before him. His equity, that the judge of all the earth will do right; the righteous may plead with him. His faithfulness, that he will fulfil all his promises; and his love, that he will take compassion on those who are afflicted; he will be tender to those who are miserable. David takes occasion from this to address God under his sufferings and sorrows: Psal. lxii. 1, 2. “He is my rock, and my salvation, and my defence; I shall not be moved; therefore my soul waits upon God; my refuge is in him; he is a God that hears prayer, therefore unto him shall all flesh come,” Psal. lxv. 1. God will not account our complaints troublesome, though they be never so often repeated; whereas men are quickly wearied with the importunities of those who are poor and needy. Great men are ready to shut their doors against those who come too often for relief; but God delights to hear often from his people, and to have them ask continually at his door for mercy. Though he has almighty power with him, saith Job, yet he will not plead against me with his great power; no, but he would put strength in me; he would teach me how I should answer him; how I should answer his justice, by appeals to his mercy; and how I should speak prevailingly before him.

5. Lastly, A saint tells God all his circumstances and sorrows at such a season, because he hopes for relief from him, and from him only; for it is impossible creatures can give relief under any trouble, unless God make them instruments of relief. And there are some troubles in which creatures cannot be our helpers, but our help must come only from God, and that in a more immediate way. Whatsoever be our distress, whether it arise from past guilt and the torments of an anxious and troubled conscience, or whether it arise from the working of indwelling sin, the strength of temptation, or the violence of temporal afflictions, still God is able and willing to give relief. “Call upon me (saith the Lord) in the day of trouble, I will deliver thee, and thou shalt glorify me;” Psal. 1. 12. And he hath never said to the seed of Jacob, seek ye my face in vain, Isa. xlv. 19.

IV. The fourth general head of discourse which I proposed, is to shew how a saint, near the mercyseat, pleads with God for relief.

Holy Job tells us in this text, that if he was got near to the seat of God, he would fill his mouth with arguments.

Not as though he would inform God of the necessity, or the justice of his cause, beyond what he knew before; no, this is impossible; he that teacheth man all things, shall he not know ? Psal. xciv.9, 10. He who orders all the circumstances of our lives, and every stroke of his own rod, can he be unacquainted with any thing that relates to our sorrows?

Nor can we use arguments with God to awaken his ear, or move his compassion, as though he had neglected us or forgotten our distress; for all things are for ever naked and open before the eyes of him with whom we have to do. The shepherd of Israel cannot slumber; nor does his mercy want our awakenings.

But in this sort of expressions, the great God condescends to talk, and to transact affairs with us, and permits us to treat with him in a way suited to our weakness; he would have us plead and argue with him, that we may show how deep a sense we have of our own wants, and how entirely we depend on his mercy. Since we cannot converse with him in a way equal to his own majesty and Godhead he stoops to talk with us in such a way as is most agreeable to our state, and most easy to our apprchension, he speaks such language as we can understand, and invites us to humble conferenee with him in the same way. Come, says God to his people, by Isaiah his prophet, Come now, and let us reason together, Isa. i. 18. And he often in holy seripture, represents himself as moved and influeneed by the prayers and pleadings of his afflieted saints; and he has ordained before hand, that the day when he prepares their hearts to pray, shall be the day when his ear shall hear the desire of the humble, and shall be the season of their deliverence, Psal. x. 17.

If you inquire, how a Christian pleads with his God, and whence does he borrow his arguments; I answer, that according to the various sorrows and difficulties which attend him, so various may his pleadings be for the removal of them. There is not a circumstance which belongs to his affliction, but he may draw some argument from it to plead for mercy; there is not one attribute of the divine nature, but he may use it with holy skill, and thereby plead for grace; there is not one relation in which God stands to his people, nor one promise of his covenant, but may at some time or other afford an argument in prayer. But the strongest and sweetest argument that a Christian knows, is the name and mediation of Jesus Christ his Lord. It is for the sake of Christ, who has purchased all the blessings of the covenant, that a saint hopes to receive them; and for the sake of Christ, he pleads that God would bestow them.

But having treated largely on this subject, it remains that I make a few useful reflections on the whole foregoing discourse.

REFLECTION I.

What a dull and uncomfortable thing is religion without drawing near to God! for this is the very business for which religion is designed; the end and aim of religion is getting nigh to God; if it attain not this end it is nothing.

O the madness of hypocrites, who satisfy themselves to toil in long forms of worship, and appear perpetually in the shapes of religion, but unconcerned whether they ever get near to God by it or no! They lose the end and design for which religion was made. What if we know all the doctrines of the gospel; what if we can talk rationally about natural religion; what if we can deduce one truth from another, so as to spread a whole scheme of godliness before the eyes or ears of those we converse with; what if we can prove all the points of Christianity, and give uncontestable arguments for the belief of them; yet we have no religion if our souls never get near to God by them. A saint thinks it a very melancholy thing when he is at a distanee from God, and eannot tell God his wants and sorrows. Though he be never so mueh studied in divinity, and the deep things of God, yet if God be not with him, if he does not eome near to his merey-seat, so as to eonverse with him as his friend, the soul is concerned and grieved, and never rests till this distanee be removed. It is to little purpose all these forms are maintained, if we have not the substanee and the power of godliness; if our God be not near us, if we never get near to God.

REFLECTION II.

How happy are we under the gospel, above all ages and nations besides us, and before us! For we have advantages of getting near to God, beyond what any other religion has; above what the heathen world ever enjoyed; for their light of nature could never show them the throne of graee; above what the aneient petriarehs had, though God eame down in visible shapes, and revealed and discovered himself to them as a man or an angel; above what the Jews had, though God dwelt among them in visible glory in the holy of holies. The people were kept at a distance, and the high-priest was to come thither but onee a-year; and their veil, and smokes, and shadows, did, as it were, eoneeal God from them, although they were types of a future Messiah; and even their Shekinah itself, or cloud of glory, gave them no spiritual idea or notion of Godhead, though it was a shining emblem of God dwelling among them.

REFLECTION III.

Lastly, That future state of glory must be blessed indeed where we shall be ever near to God, even to his seat, and have no sorrows to tell him of. If it be so delightful a thing to come near the seat of God here upon earth, to mourn before him, and to tell him all our cireumstances, and all our sorrows, how pleasurable a blessedness must that of heaven be, where we shall be ever rejoicing before him, as Christ Jesus was before the world was made, rejoicing daily before him; and our delight shall be with that God who created the sons of men; where we shall be for ever telling him of our joys, and our pleasures, with humble adoration of his grace, and everlasting gratitude.

O that I could raise your souls, and mine, to blessed breathings after this felicity, by such representations! But how infinitely short must the brightest descriptions fall of this state and place! May you and I, who speak and hear this, may every soul of us be made thus happy one day, and learn the extent and glory of this blessedness, by sweet and everlasting experience. Amen.


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This work was published before January 1, 1929, and is in the public domain worldwide because the author died at least 100 years ago.

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