SERMON V.
The Soul drawing near to God in prayer.
Job xxiii. 3, 4.—O 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.
THE FIRST PART.
This book of Job might, perhaps, be the first and earliest part of all the written word of God; for learned men, upon good ground, suppose that this history was elder than the days of Moses, and yet it hath many a sweet lessen of experimental religion in it, to teach the disciples of Christ; we may learn many duties and comforts from it in our day, upon whom the ends of the world are come. The style of it in some parts is so magnificent and solemn, in others so tender and affectionate, that we must feel something of devout passion when we read this history, if our hearts are but in a serious frame, and if our temper or circumstances of mind or body have any thing a-kin to the grief or piety of this good man.
Job had now heard long stories of accusation from his friends while he was bowed down, and groaning under the heavy providences of God; they persecuted him whom God had smitten, and poured in fresh sorrows upon all his wounds. I will turn aside, saith he, from man, for miserable comforters are ye all; and I will address myself to God, even to the God that smites me. O that knew where I might find him! The stroke of the father doth not make the child fly from him, but come nearer, and bow himself before his best friend: this is the filial temper of the children of God. “My complaint is bitter, (saith Job, ver. 2.) because of my sorrows from the hand of God, and from the accusations and reproaches of my friends; you may think I am too lavish in my complainings and my continual cries, but I feel more than I complain of.” And therefore Job is set up as a pattern of patience; for he could say, my stroke is heavier than my groaning.
There are some of the children of God who give themselves up to a perpetual habit of complaints and groans, though no trial hath befallen them but what is common to men; they make all around them sensible of every lesser pain they feel, and being always uneasy in themselves, they take the kindest and gentlest admonition for an accusation; and while they imagine themselves in the case of Job, they resent highly every real or suspected injury: in short, they make a great part of their own sorrows themselves, and then they cry out and complain; and among their dismal complainings, they often, without reason, assume the words of Job as their own, and say, my stroke is heavier than my groaning. In some persons this is the temper of their natures, and in others a mere distemper of the body; but both ought to watch against it, and resist it, because it appears so much like sinful impatience and fretfulness, that it cannot be indulged without sin.
There are others, whose real afflictions are dreadful indeed, and uncommon, who seem to tire all their friends with their complaints too; but, it may be, if we knew all their variety of sorrows, and could take an intimate view of every outward and inward wound, we should acknowledge their stroke was heavier than their groaning; and especially when God is in such a measure absent from them too, that they are at a loss, as Job was, how they should come at him or converse with the heavenly Father: then their souls break out into vehement desires, O that I knew where I might find him!
A child of God who is wont to maintain a constant and humble correspondence with heaven, does often receive such sensible influences of instruction and comfort from the throne of grace, that he is led on sweetly in the path of daily duty, by the guiding providences of God, and by the secret directions of his Holy Spirit. He finds divine pleasure in his morning addresses to the mercy-seat, and returns to the throne in the evening with joy in his heart, and praise upon his tongue. He has something to do with the great God, in a way of humble devotion, in all his important concerns; but if God retire and withdraw from him, he feels and bemoans the divine absence, and his heart meditates grief and complaints; and when at the same time he is pressed with other burdens too, he breathes after God with a sacred impatience, and longs to know where he may find him: then says the soul, “O if I could but come near to the seat of God, in my addresses to him, I would order my cause before him, and fill my mouth with arguments.” This brings me to the doctrine, which shall be the subject of my discourse.
Observation. When a christian gets near the seat of God in prayer, he tells him all his sorrows, and pleads with him for relief.
In discoursing on this doctrine I shall consider four things.—I. How may we know when a soul gets near to God in prayer; or what is to get near the seat of God.—II. What are the particular subjects of holy converse between God and the soul.—III. Why such a soul tells God all his sorrows.—IV. How he pleads with God for relief.
First, How may we know when a soul gets near the seat of God in prayer?
I answer, there will be some or all these attendants of nearness to God.
I. There will be an inward sense of the several glories of God, and suitable exercises of grace in the soul. For when we get near to God, we see him, we are in his presence; he is then, as it were, before the eyes of the soul, even as the soul is at all times before the eyes of God. There will be something of such a spiritual sense of the presence of God, as we shall have when our souls are dismissed from the prison of this flesh, and see him face to face, though in a far less degree: It is something that resembles the future vision of God in the blessed world of spirits; and those souls who have had much intimacy with God in prayer, will tell you that they know, in some measure, what heaven is. The soul, when it gets near to God, even to his seat beholds several of his glories displayed there; for it is a seat of majesty, a seat of judgment, and a seat of mercy. Under these three characters is the seat of God distinguished in scripture; and because this word is part of my text, I shall therefore a little enlarge upon these heads.
When the soul gets near to God, it sees him,
1. As upon a seat of majesty. There he appears to the soul in the first notion of his divinity or godhead, as self-sufficient, and the first of beings: He appears there as the infinite ocean, the unmeasurable fountain of being, and perfection, and blessedness; and the soul, in a due exercise of grace, shrinks, as it were, into nothing before him, as a drop, or a dust, a mere atom of being. The soul is in its own eyes at that time, what it is always in the eyes of God, as nothing, and less than nothing and vanity. He appears then in the glory of his all-sufficience, as an almighty Creator, giving birth, and life, and being to all things; and the soul, in a due exercise of grace, stands before him as a dependant creature, receiving all its powers and being from him, supported every moment by him, and ready to sink into utter nothing, if God withdraw that support. Such is God, and such is the soul, when the soul draws near to God in worship.
He appears again upon his seat of majesty as a sovereign, in the glory of his infinite supremacy, and the soul sees him as the supreme of beings, owns his just sovereignty, and subjects itself afresh, and for ever to his high dominion. O with what deep humility and self-abasement doth the saint, considered merely as a creature, cast himself down at the foot of God, when he comes near to the seat of his majesty! Behold, saith Abraham, I now have taken upon me to speak unto thee, I who am but dust and ashes; Gen. xviii. 27. This is the language of a saint when got near to the seat of the majesty of God, “Before I had seen thee as such a sovereign, I was restive and stubborn: in times past I quarrelled with God because of difficult duties imposed upon me, and because of the difficult dispensations I was made to pass through; but now I behold God so infinitely my superior, that I can quarrel no more with any duty, or any difficulty; I submit to all his will: whatsoever he will have me be, that I am; whatsoever he bids me do, that I do; for it is fit he should be a sovereign, and I should be a subject. I give myself to him afresh, and for ever, that he may dispose of me according to his own will and for his own glory: I would be more regardless of myself, and more regardful of my God; it is fit he should be the ultimate end of all that I can be, and all that I can do, for he is my sovereign.”
Again, when a soul is near to God, God appears in the glory of his holiness; for the seat of his majesty is called the throne of his holiness; Ps. xlvii. 8. And then the heavens are not clean in his sight: and the soul cries out with those worshipping seraphims, Holy, holy, holy, is the Lord of hosts; the whole earth is full of his glory: and joins with Isaiah, the worshipping saint, in that humble language, who is me, for I am a man of unclean lips, &c. You see the character of a saint getting near to God, and standing before the seat of his majesty; Is. vi. 3, 4. where the angels and the prophet worship together with the deepest humility. “I have heard of thy holiness before, says the soul, and I have heard before of thy glory afar off; but now mine eyes see it, and I abhor myself in dust and ashes”; Job xliii. 6.
2. His seat is to be considered as a seat of judgment; for God is not only a king, but a judge: and Job has, without doubt, a reference to this in my text, because the language which he uses, seems suited to a throne of judicature, a throne of justice. “If I could get near his seat, I would order my cause before him, I would plead with him.” The soul that gets near to God, sees him sitting upon a seat of judgment, as an omniscient God: he looks like the judge of all the earth, and his eyes are like a flame of fire to search our souls to the centre, and to know our most hidden thoughts: the soul then attempts no more to conceal itself, no more to hide its guilt or its wretchedness; for it beholds those eyes of God that see through all things, that search into the deepest hypocrisy, and it is impossible that any thing should be concealed from him. “Behold I am before that God, says the soul, before whom nothing can be hid; before whom all things are naked and open; and it is with him that I have to do; therefore I open my heart before him, and I spread open all my inward powers, for he sees and knows them all, should I attempt to conceal them.” “I behold him in his infinite and inflexible justice, as well as in his all-seeing knowledge; and I cry out, If thou, O Lord, shouldest mark iniquity, O Lord who should stand?” Ps. cxxx. 4. This is the language of the holiest saint getting near to God here on earth, as seated upon a seat of judgment.
The soul beholds him also as girt with resistless power to execute his own laws; and the thunder of his power, says Job who can understand? xxvi. 14. He has armies of angels, ministers of fire, attendants on his tribunal, and swift to execute the sentence of his mouth. The saint sees him thus invested, thus surrounded, and adores and fears before him. The soul beholds him with rewards in one hand, and punishments in the other; infinite rewards, and infinite punishments; distributing to the unseen world perpetual blessedness, and perpetual pains. “I behold him arrayed in this glory, saith the saint, I expect my sentence from his lips, from whence eternal blessings, and eternal curses, are dispensed to all the regions of heaven and hell; but he will not plead against me with his great power; the sentence that comes forth from his mouth, I trust, shall be on my side.”
3. He appears as sitting upon a throne of grace. The majesty and judgment that belong to his seat, do not forbid mercy to attend him; he sits upon a seat of mercy, and there, says Job, the righteous might surety dispute with him; xxiii. 7. and there I should be delivered from his terrors as an avenging God; there, though he judge me, yet he will plead my cause; for the same Judge that sits upon a throne of glory, has taken upon him to become my Advocate. “There I behold him, says the soul, with millions of pardons for vile transgressors, and with abundant favour for rebels; such a rebel am I, and such a transgressor, and yet there is pardon and grace for me. I behold there riches and raiment for the poor, the needy, and the naked, and help for the weak believer.” There goodness appears in the face of God, in all the sweet variety of its divine forms. There appears long-suffering for old sinners, and patience for repeated guilt, and pity for the miserable, and free grace for those that deserve nothing but vengeance. All this discovers itself in the face of God, to a soul that gets near him, even to his mercy-seat; and the soul bows, and wonders, and worships, and makes still nearer approaches, and receives the grace, and rejoices in the salvation.
The soul puts in for a share in this mercy with faith and hope, and will not be denied, will not be excluded; then he uses that holy boldness, that παρρησια, or liberty of speech; Heb. iv. 16. And this is the language of faith, when the soul gets near to God: “Since there are so many millions of pardons with thee for sinners, I will not go away without one; since there is such a righteousness as that of thine own Son to clothe the naked, I will not go away without being clothed with this righteousness; since there are such supplies of strength for the weak, I will not leave thy seat till I get some strength.” The soul then wrestles and pleads, and makes supplication as Jacob did when he came near to God; Gen. xxxii. 22. I will not let thee go, except thou bless me. The soul beholds in God mercy enough for the largest multitude of sinners, and pardons large enough for the blackest offences; it sees Paul the persecutor and blasphemer so near to the right-hand of God in glory, that it cries out with a joyful faith, “All the aggravations of my guilt shall no more divide me from the mercy-seat, shall no more prevent my hope and help in God; for there sits Paul the persecutor and blasphemer; and he was set forth as an example how full God is of mercy!” 1 Tim. i. 16. I obtained mercy, that in me first Christ Jesus might shew all long-suffering, for a pattern to believers. This is the temper, this is the voice, and this is the language of a soul that gets near to God, even to his seat, considered as a seat of majesty, of judgment, and of grace.
I proceed now to the second sign or attendant of holy nearness to God in prayer.
II. When a soul comes near to God in prayer, there will generally be some sweet taste of the special love of God, and warm returns of love again to God from the soul. The soul that comes near to God is not satisfied merely with low degrees of faith and hope, with some feeble dependance, and some faint expectations of mercy; it can hardly leave God till it has an assurance. Faith and hope in the mercy of God, are different from that joy that arises from the immediate sensations of divine love. The Psalmist in the lxiii. Psalm, ver. 1, 2, &c. seems to have a reference to both these particulars together, which I have already mentioned. My soul thirsteth for thee, my flesh longeth for thee—to see thy power and thy glory, so as I have seen thee in the sanctuary. “I have seen thee in the sanctuary as sitting upon a throne of majesty, on a seat of judgment and of grace; I have seen thy power and thy glory there, and I have seen something more than this, I have tasted some special-loving-kindness, and that loving-kindness is better than life, therefore my lips shall praise thee. I have had a sense of the special love of God shed abroad in my soul, I have known his love is exercised toward me, therefore my soul is full of praise.” God will seldom let a soul that is got so near him by holy labour and fervency of spirit, go away merely with hope and dependance, without some sacred delight and joy.
A saint that has drawn near to God in worship, will tell you his own rich experience, and say, “When I found him whom my soul loveth, I was constrained to break forth into these sweet expressions, I am my beloved’s and my beloved is mine: for I love him above all things, and my love is but the effect of his. In that blessed hour I felt, and I was assured of that mutual relation between God and me: I found so much of his image stamped on me, that I knew I was the Lord’s: whence I rejoice in the full persuasion of his love. I know he loves me, for his sanctifying Spirit hath witnessed with my spirit, that I am one of his children; and I know that I love him, for my spirit witnesseth also as an echo to his Spirit, that I have chosen him for my Father, my Ruler, and my God, and have surrendered myself to him on his own terms; and I address him as my Father, with words of the choicest affection, and of most endeared sentiments of soul.”
When a person in whom grace is wrought, gets so near to God, and sees this God in his own loveliness, and in his kindest perfections, there are some new divine passions kindled in the soul towards this God, towards this first beauty, towards this original of all perfection and goodness; and God will seldom let one come so near him, without shewing him the love of his heart; and the name of the devout worshipper graven, as it were, on the palms of his hands, or in the book of his mercy. He speaks to the soul in his own divine language, “Son, or daughter, be of good cheer, thy sins are forgiven thee. O man, thou art greatly beloved. I am your God, and you are my people. I have bought thee dear, and thou art mine. I have created thee, O Jacob; I have formed thee, O Israel; I have redeemed thee, O believer, and thou art for ever mine.” And such discoveries of the love of God to the soul, draw out still more love from the soul towards God, and raise more sacred exercises of divine love in one hour, than a whole year of common devotions can do; and the saint learns more of this sacred sensation of the love of God, than years of cold and common devotions would teach him.
III. When the soul gets near to God in prayer, there will be a hatred of sin at the very thoughts of it, and holy meltings and mournings under the remembrance of its own sins. “How hateful does sin appear, will the soul say, now I am come so near to the seat of a Holy God! Never did I see sin in so dark and so odious colours, as this hour reveals and discovers to me; never did I so sensibly behold the abomination that is in all sin, as now I do; I never saw it so contrary to all that is in God, to his holiness, to his glory, to his justice, and to his grace. O wretch that I am, that I should ever have indulged iniquity! that I should ever have borne with such an infinite evil in my heart? that I should ever take delight in such mischief against God! Now I hate and abhor myself because of sin. O that my head were waters, and my eyes a fountain of tears, that I might weep day and night, because I have been such a sinner so long, and because I am so much a sinner still!” The heart of a saint that comes near to God, is pained at the memory of old sins; and together with a present sweetness of divine love, there is a sort of anguish at the thoughts of past iniquities. A present God will make past sins look dreadful and heinous; therefore it is that sin looks so little to us, and appears so light a thing, because we seldom get near to the seat of God, and bring our iniquities to that divine light.
It is a very common instance, and you all know it, that a blot or spot on a paper or garment, looks so much deeper, when the place you view it in is lighter; at noon-day, and in the eye of the sun, those smaller blemishes appear, which at other times are utterly unseen, and every greater spot, every fouler stain, looks most odious and disagreeable. Just thus it is with the soul, when it is displayed under the eye of the Sun of Righteousness; every blemish, every defilement appears, and the soul hates itself so far as it is sinful, while sin itself looks infinitely more odious. Therefore Job says, ix. 30. Should I wash myself in snow-water, and make myself never so clean, thou wouldest plunge me in the ditch, and my own clothes would abhor me; that is, “should I use all the methods of cleansing that are possible, and then enter into thy immediate presence, that light of thy presence would discover so many spots and defilements upon me, as if I had just plunged myself in a ditch, and my garments had been all over defiled.”
[This sermon, if too long, maybe divided here.]
IV. At such a time there is a power and virtue enters into the soul, coming from a present God, to resist sin, and to oppose great temptation. “I can do all things, if Christ be near to strengthen me”, says the apostle; Phil. iv. 13. When I was afflicted with the buffeting of Satan, says the same apostle; 2 Cor. xii. 8, 9. for this I applied myself to the mercy-seat, and I got near to the throne of grace; there I pleaded with my God, and I received this answer from him; My grace is sufficient for thee; then, says he, I could glory in infirmities, and in persecutions for Christ’s sake; for when I am weak, then I am strong; when I feel my own weakness, and see Almighty strength near me, and engaged on my side, then I grow strong in courage, and with success encounter my most powerful adversaries. I will not fear, says David, though thousands have set themselves together against me, if thou art with me, my strength and my rock: I will walk through the valley of the shadow of death, and fear no evil; Psal. xxiii. 4. for thou art with me. Divine courage and fortitude are increased abundantly by coming so near to the throne of God.
There is a zeal for God enters into the soul at such a season, and the soul is more desirous to lay out itself for the glory of God at such a time. Moses had drawn near to God in the mount, and had been with him forty days; when he came down from the mount, he beheld the people filled with idolatry, and he brake the tables of stone in an impatience of zeal; his zeal for God was so great, he hardly knew what he did, his zeal for God was kindled high, because he had been so near to God, and just conversing with him. So, Isaiah vi. 8. when that great saint had been near to God, and had seen him in the glories of his holiness, and had some courage and confidence in his love, “Now I will go, says he, upon any difficult message; Here am I, send me, though it be to fulfil the hardest service.” There will be generally all these attendants of great nearness to God, viz. power against temptation, strength against sin, zeal for the glory of God in the world; and ability to perform difficult duties.
V. There will be a spiritual frame introduced into the heart and a distance from all carnal things. “Stand by, saith the soul to all this world, whilst I go to seek my God; but when I have found him, then the world of itself, as to all the temporal concerns of it, vanishes and goes out of sight. When I get so near to heaven, this earth is so small a point, that it cannot be seen, and those comforts among the creatures, that were fair as the moon, or bright as the larger stars, are vanished and lost, and disappear under the brighter light of this Sun.” Created beauties, with all their little glimmerings, tempt the soul toward them, when God is absent; as a twinkling candle entices the silly fly at midnight to hover about the rays of it; but the candle faints under the broad beams of rising day-light; it has no power to attract those little buzzing animals in the morning, and it is quite invisible at noon. So the very approach of God makes creatures appear more contemptible and worthless in the esteem of a devout christian; a God near at hand will drive the creatures afar off; and a present God will command the world to utter absence. None of the tempting vanities of life come in sight, and sometimes not the most important concerns of it remain before the eye of the saint, when God appears and fills the view and prospect of his spirit. The soul is taken up with spiritual things, therefore carnal ones vanish; it is entertained and filled with the majesty of God, the riches of grace, redeeming grace; with the glory of Christ Jesus, the beauty of his person, the honour of his characters, his various excellencies, and the super-eminence of his offices, both in the constitution and discharge of them; the soul is then warmed with a zealous concern for the church of Christ, and big with the designs of the honour of God, while it forgets the world.
Or at such a season as this, when we get near to God in prayer, if we think of any of the creatures, it is all in order to the honour of God. If I think of a brother, or father, or child, “O may they all be instruments in thine hand, for thy honour here among men, and for ever among blessed angels!” The soul does not ask for riches and glories on earth for them: but, “May they live in thy sight, O Lord!” If it thinks of the comforts of life, or the blessings of prosperity, “O let holiness to the Lord be written upon them all; for I would not have one of them, but what may subserve thine honour in the world.” If the soul thinks of its pains, and sorrows, and reproaches, it longs for the sanctification of them at present, and the removal of them in due season, that it may serve its God the better. Thus the soul is, as it were, taken out of self, when it gets near to God.
“Let me have the conveniences of life, (says the christian,) not so much for my ease, as that I may better advance thine honour.” The soul grows weaned from self at such a time; it breaks out of the narrow circle of self, when it gets nigh to God. If it thinks of the ministry or of ordinances, “Lord, let that ministry be for the advancement of thy name! Lord, let these ordinances be for the increase of thy glory in the world, for the advancement of grace in my heart, and bring me nearer to heaven! If it thinks of the kingdom, or the parliament, powers or princes in this world, it is with this design, that God may be glorified in the courts of princes, and in parliaments, and honoured in armies and nations known and unknown.” Thus the soul always keeps within sight of God: it still keeps all its designs within the circle of God, and aims still at the glories of its Heavenly Father. If it thinks of life or of death, “I would not ask life, says the saint, but to glorify thee; nor death, but to glorify thee better, and to enjoy more of thee.” Thus when the soul is near to God, it is in a divine light that it sees all things, it is still with a design for God; and when it indulges the thoughts toward any creature, it is without turning aside a moment from its God. Thus carnal things are taken into the mind, and spritualized by the presence of God, the infinite Spirit, when the soul approaches so near to his seat.
VI. There will then be a fixedness of heart in duty without wandering, and liveliness without tiring. At other times of common and usual worship, when the saint is in too formal and in too cold a frame, the heart roves perpetually, and is soon weary; but when we get near to God, then we have a little emblem of heaven within us, where they worship God day and night without interruption, and without weariness. When we wait upon God at this rate, we are still mounting up higher and higher, as with eagles’ wings; we walk first without fainting, and then run without wearying, at last, we fly as an eagle, and make haste to the fuller possession of our God; Is. xl. 31. The soul is then detained in the presence of God with overpowering delight, and it cannot be taken away from the object of its dearest satisfaction. This is a joy above all other joys, above all the joys of sense, above all the joys of the intellectual world that are not divine and holy. There are some pleasures that arise from philosophical and intellectual notions, that are superior to the pleasures of sense; but the pleasure of being near to God in devotion, far transcends all these. Animal nature, at such a season, may be worn out, and faint and die under it; but the mind is not weary. It is possible for divine transports to rise so high as to break this feeble frame of flesh, and dissolve it; and there have been instances of persons that have been near to a dissolution of mortality under the power of divine ecstacies: but the soul has not been faint, has felt no weariness.
There are at such a season most pleasurable thoughts of heaven; there are some bright glimpses of that blessed state when a christian attains this nearness to God; for heaven is a state of nearness to God everlasting and uninterrupted: nor are the blessed inhabitants of that world ever weary of their company or their business; and thus, when there is any thing akin to heaven brought down to the saints in this mortal state, they know it cannot be uninterrupted and perpetual; and therefore there is a desire of frequent returns of such seasons as these are, while they are here on earth. And as Christ, the bridegroom, speaks to his saints in the language of Solomon, Let me see thy face often, my spouse, my beloved, let me hear thy voice; Song ii. 44. and viii. 13. So the saint says to his God at such a season, “O may I often see thy face in this manner, may I often hear such a voice as this is from thee, for I know not how to live without it. Flee, my beloved Saviour, and make haste to a speedy return, and let there be an uninterrupted and everlasting converse between God and my soul.”
Lastly, There is at such a season oftentimes a pouring out of the soul before God with some freedom in the gift, as well as the grace of prayer. Mere sighs and groans are for persons at a distance; but when we get near to God, we speak to him even in his ear; and the heart is full, and the tongue overflows. I grant there may be the spirit of prayer assisting a poor soul that cannot get near to God, but still cries after him when he is hidden, and expresses itself only in sighs and in groans unutterable; so the apostle tells us; Rom. viii. 26. The spirit itself maketh intercession in us with groanings that cannot be uttered. And thus it may be, while God hides himself, while there is a veil concealing God from our eyes, while there is any special temptation like a mountain that separates between God and our souls, he may send his Spirit to work us up to earnest desires and longings after him.
But when this SPIRIT OF PRAYER has brought the soul near, when God has been pleased to turn aside the veil, to remove the mountain, and to discover himself in all his glory, beauty, and love, then there will be generally the gift of prayer also in exercise by the assistance of the promised Spirit; and such persons many times are able to address themselves to God with much freedom, and to pour out the soul before God in proper words, notwithstanding at other times they appear to have but weak capacities. When they have such affecting sights of their own sin and guilt, and such surprizing views of the mercy of God manifested to them in particular, and at the same time when they look upon all things round them with a design for the glory of God; they are both naturally and divinely taught to pour out their souls before God, and represent their cares and circumstances to him in affecting language.
I will not say indeed, it is always so when any soul gets near to God; there must be some allowance made for the different tempers and constitutions, as I shall shew immediately. There have also been some instances of holy men, whose voice has, at such a time, been overpowered with divine pleasure, all their powers have been transported and overwhelmed with rapturous silence; but for the most part holy souls have found an uncommon liberty of language at the throne of grace at such seasons. And this is one reason, I am persuaded, why the gift of prayer is not so common a thing as might be wished, because there is so little nearness to God among the professors of our day. The gift of prayer abounds not among christians in our churches; O that I could say it was found more gloriously among ministers, while in your name we speak to the great God! But if there were a constant laborious diligence in the soul to get nearer to God, in all our secret as well as public addresses to him, we should find more abundance of the gift of prayer poured down upon us by the Spirit, as well as brighter evidences of every praying grace.
I must conclude this discourse before I proceed to the other heads which were proposed; but I would not willingly leave it without a caution or two, and one reflection. The first caution is this: Let not the humble mourning christian, who walks carefully with God, under much darkness and fear, charge himself with utter distance and estrangement from the throne of grace, because he does not feel all these sacred passions and powers of nature in lively exercise, while he bows his knees before the Lord: for I have described this blessed privilege in the sublime glory and beauty of it, so as it has been often attained and enjoyed by persons eminent in grace and religion, and especially such as have had lively affections, and the powers of animal nature in a good degree sanctified, and subservient to the devotions of the soul. But where the natural spirits are low and sinking, and where temptations and darkness hang heavy upon the mind, the christian may truly draw near to God, so far as to find a gracious acceptance with him, and may fetch secret divine communications from the mercy-seat to maintain his spiritual life; though he feels but little of these sensations of heavenly pleasure, these more vigorous efforts of devotions and joy. Yet let him neither deny nor despise those more elevated enjoyments of soul, those near and blessed approaches to the seat of God, with which others have been favoured.
The second caution shall be addressed to those, who feel much of rapture and transport in their hours of secret piety. I entreat that they would not imagine themselves so often to enjoy this unspeakable privilege of holy nearness to God in worship, if they do not sensibly find such an increase of holiness, as may prove effectually that they have been with God. If they have been conversing with their Maker, like Moses on the mount, there will be a shine of holiness upon the face of their souls. To pretend therefore to have enjoyed much of God in the closet, and to come down amongst men peevish and fretful, or immediately to betray a carnal and covetous, or a haughty and untractable spirit; these are things of so inconsistent a nature, that the succeeding iniquity spoils the devotion, and almost destroys the pretence to any sublime degrees of it. Such persons had need look well to themselves and make a narrow search within, whether their hearts be sincere with God or no, lest they build all their hopes upon the flashy efforts of animal nature, coupled with the thoughts of some sacred objects, and tacked on to a divine meditation.
Reflection.—What a wretched hindrance is this world to our christian profit and pleasure! How often does it keep the soul at a sad distance from God! With what difficulty and uneasy reluctance, are we sometimes drawn, or rather dragged into retirement, that the soul may seek after God there? How many excuses doth the flesh borrow from the cares and necessities of this life, to delay, or to divert the duty of prayer? Our memory, our imagination, and our senses, are faithful purveyors and treasurers for the world; they are representing to us the things of this present state, the trifles or the businesses, the cares or amusements of it, the labours or delights which relate to this life; and thereby we are diverted and separated from God, and called away from him often, as soon as we begin to approach his presence.
What a pernicious enemy is this flesh to the soul, both in the pleasures and the pains of it! and this world, both in the flatteries and the frowns of it, and even in its necessary cares! When we would give our God the upper-room in our hearts, how is this world ready to get the ascendant! How often does it break in upon our most sacred retirements, and thrust itself, with all its impertinencies, into our holy meditations? How often does it spread a carnal scene all over our thoughts at once, and spoil our devoutest hours? “I cannot dwell so long in my closet as I would, says a christian, the world has such importunate demands upon me.” The world follows us, into our places of retirement; the exchange, or the shop, presses into the temple, and robs God even to his face.
Let us then have a care of the flesh: let us have a care of this world; we must be watchful over them as our most subtle and dangerous enemies, if we would keep our souls near to God, or often enjoy this divine privilege. Blessed Enoch! who could walk with God in the midst of all the busy and vicious scenes of the old world! and he was translated to heaven, without calling at the gates of death, that he might give a glorious testimony to men how well God was pleased with him. Happy soul! that could keep near to God, and maintain a holy and humble converse with him, when all flesh had corrupted its way and the earth was full of iniquity and violence! Blessed man, who knew not what it was to die, but he knew what it was to be near to God; and his faith and his devotion were changed the shortest way into sight and enjoyment! Happy spirit! who without being absent at all from the body, was brought near to the seat of divine Majesty, and in the fullest manner present with the Lord!