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NICHOL'S SERIES OF STANDARD DIVINES.
PUEITAN PERIOD.

BY JOHN C. MILLER, D.D.,
LINCOLN COLLEGE ; UONORARY CANON OF WORCESTER ; RECTOR OF ST MARTIN'S. BiaJlINGHAM.

THE

WOEKS OF STEPHEN CHAENOOK, B.D
VOL. IV.

COUNCIL OF PUBLICATION.

W. LINDSAY ALEXANDER, D.D., Professor of Tlieology, Congregational
Union, Edinburgh.
JAMES BEGG, D,D,, Minister of Newington Free Church, Edinburgh.
THOMAS J. CRAWFORD, D.D., S.T.P., Professor of Divinity, University,
Edinburgh.
D. T. K. DRUMMONl), M.A,, Minister of St Thomas's Episcopal Church,
Edinl^gh.
WILLIAM H. GOOLD, D.D., Professor of Biblical Literature and Church
History, Reformed Presbyterian Church, Edinburgh.
ANDREW THOMSON, D.D., Minister of Broughton Place United Presby
terian Church, Edinburgh. Sfnrral ffiBttor.
KEY. THOMAS SMITH, M.A., Edinburoh.

THE COMPLETE WOEKS

STEPHEN CHARNOCK, B.D.

BY THE REV. JAMES M'COSH, LL.D.
PEOFESSOE OF LOGIC AND METAPHYSICS, QUEEn's COLLEGE, BELFAST.

VOL. W:
CONTAINING :
DISCOUESES ON IHE KNOWLEDGE OF GOD; UNBELIEF;
THE LOED'S SUPPEE, &c.

EDINBURGH: JAMES NTCHOL.
LONDON : JAMES NISBET AND CO. DUBLIN : G. HERBERT

M.DOCC.LXV.

BDINBimGH :
PRINTED BT JOHN GRKIG AND«>K,
Otl> PHYSIC GARDKNa.

CONTENTS.

DISCOUESES. Page
A DiSCOUESE OF THE KNOWLEDGE OF GOD. . 'JoHN XVII. 3. . 3
A DiSCOUBSE OF THE KNOWLEDGE OF GoD IN
Chbist. ..... John XVII; 3. . 110
A DiSCOUBSE OF Conviction of Sin. . . John XVI. 8, 9. 164
A DiSCOUBSE of Unbelief, peoving it is the
GEEATEST SiN. .... JOHN XVI. 9. . 220
A DiSCOUBSE OF THE MiSBEY OF Unbelieyees. John III. 36. . 296
A DiSCOUBSE SHEWING WHO ABE Unbelievebs. John VI. 64. . 348
A DiSCOUBSE OF THE End OF THE Lobd's Suppeb. 1 CoB. XI. 26. . 392
A DiSCOUBSE OF THE SUBJECTS OF THE LoEd's
Suppeb. ..... 1 Cob. XL 28, 29. 427
A DiSCOUESE OF THE UnWOBTHY RECEIVING OF
THE Lobd's Suppeb.
A DiSCOUBSE (Jf Self-Examination.
A DiSCOUBSE OF THE KNOWLEDGE OP ChBIST
Ceucified. ....
A DiSCOUESE OF Chbist oub Passovbe.
A DiSCOUBSE OF THE VoLUNTAEINESS OF ChEISt's
Death. .....
ADlSCOUBSE OF THE AcCEPTABLENESSOF ChBISt's
Death. .....
A DiSCOUESE OF Obedience. .

1 Cob. XI. 27, 29.

472

2 Cob. XIII. 5. .

483

1 Cob. II. 2. .

494

1 Cob. V. 7. .

sc;

Eph. V. 2.

54

Eph. V. 2.

552

John XV. 14. .

587

DISCOURSES.

vol. IV.

A DISCOURSE OF THE KNOWLEDGE OF GOD.

And this is life eternal, that they might know thee the only tme God, and Jesus
Christ, whom thou hast sent. — John X'WI. 3.
This chapter contains Christ's last prayer with his disciples, after his fare
well sermon, which began after Judas his departure, John xiii. 31, and ends
at the end of the 16th chapter. The design of his sermon and that of his
prayer was one and the same ; his discourse to them was, that they might
have peace in him, John xvi. 33 ; that they might acquiesce in him for
peace with God ;* that peace of conscience was only to be possessed by the
knowledge and love of Christ. His prayer for them in their hearing was,
that they might have a firm and full joy, ver. 13; that they might have an
antidote against all their fears and troubles they should meet with in the
world, and a strong foundation for their own supplications to God. Zanchy
calls it the foundation of the church from the beginning of the world to the
end of it. It always had, and always will have, its efficacy for every believer ;
it is a copy left upon the earth of what he doth intercede for as an advocate
in heaven. By an inspection into it, we may know what Christ is doing
above ; for it was that his people might have a full joy, a strong cordial in
all afflictions, desertions, temptations.
Some think it to be the same with that prayer in the garden ; but that
opinion hath no firm foundation.f
(1.) The matter of the prayer is different. In this, our Savipur prays for
his own glorification, for assistance in his approaching passion, and an un
loosing afterwards the bands of death by an happy resurrection; in that, ha
prays for a removal of the cup which was brewed for him.
(2.) The gesture is different. In this, he lifts np his eyes to heaven, in
token of a confidence in his Father for the answer of his prayer, with such
confidence as he hath in heaven in his intercession; in the garden, he fell
prostrate upon the earth : Mat. xxvi. 39, ' He fell on his face, and prayed.'
His eyes were towards the earth.
(3.) His company were not the same. In this, his disciples were with
him ; in that, he withdrew from his disciples, taking only three with him.
Mat. xxvi. 371f and presently went aside from' them also by himself, ver. 39.
This prayer they all heard, the other they did not, for sleep had possessed
them. * Ferus. t Gerhard, Harm. cap. clxxx.

4 ohaenock's wobks. [John XVII. 3.
(4.) In this, he prays as Mediator, and pleads the terms of the mediatory
covenant, which had been agreed upon before his coming into the world ;
in that, he prays more like a man fi:om the'strugglings of the flesh, as though
there had been a contest between human nature and his mediatory ofiioe.
In the one, he declares his deity ; in the other, evidenceth his humanity, in
the infirmities of the flesh. In this, his soul was free from disturbance ; in
that, ' his soul was sorrowful and very heavy, even unto death,' Mat. xxvi.
37, 38. He prayed then as one standing charged with all our sins, which
made him bow his head to the ground ; he prayeth here as one that hath
satisfied for our sins, triumphed over his enemies, and performed his
Father's will : John xvii. 4, ' I have finished the work which thou gavest
me to dot' In fine, this prayer in regard of the matter he doth still pursue
in heaven, the other petition he never did afterwards, nor ever shall reassume
into his lips.
If any part of Scripture be to be magnified above another, this seems to
claim the pre-eminence, it being the breathing out of Christ's heart before
his departure, for the comfort of his disciples, and the succeeding church to
the end of the world ; a standing monument of his whole mediatory design,
and his unalterable love.
Ver. 1, ' These wfirds spake Jesus, and lift up his eyes to heaven, and
said. Father, the hour is come; glorify thy Son, that thy Son may also
glorify thee.' Christ first d,cted with man in the name of God by teaching,*
he now acts with God in the name of man by praying. It is a miraculous
prayer in the person of Christ, who is essentially one with the Father, to
whom he prays ;f personally one with the Son of man, who prays here to the
Father. Father. Not our Father, as he had taught ns to pray, but Father, to shew
that the paternity of the Father to him was in another manner than that to
his people. He was the natural Son of God, behevers adopted ones.
Thy Son. In a way of eminency and peculiarity above others ; thy Son
by eternal generation, thy Son in his humanity by the grace of personal
union. The hour is come. The hour of my passion, the hour of thy satisfaction ;
the hour of thy expectation, the hour of my victory and thy glory. I am
coming to the last upshot of my humiliation, I have managed an obedience
to thee hitherto with all care and diligence ; I am now come to perfect it by
my death, I will not decline the last act of it; decline not thou, 0 Father,
the glorifying of me, while I stand as the butt of all thy wrath for the sins of
men. Glorify thy Son. Glorify him in his death, by accepting it as the death
of thy Son for the sins of the world; glorify him in his death, by manifest
ing at that time that I am thy Son. God did so by miraculous testimonies
of his innocency in the time of his passion, by rending of the temple's veil
obscurity of the sun, quaking of the earth, and the cleaving of the rocks'
which made the centurion that guarded him pronounce him to be ' truly the
Son of God,' Mat. xxvii. 54.
Glorify him in a resurrection ; glorify thy Son in his deity, by a manifes
tation of it; glorify thy Son in his humanity, by conferring new endowments
of honour and immortality upon it. He prays here for a manifestation of
the glory of hjs deity, which had been obscured, for an addition of glory to
his humanity, which had not been yet enjoyed, by a resurrectlbn and exalta
tion of it to the right hand of the Father. He prays for a manifestation of
his deity: 'Glorify thy Son.' He was the Son of God by eternal genera-
* lUyrio. in loc. t Gerhard, Harmon, cap. clxxx.

John XVII. 3.] the knowledge op god. 5
tion; it is the glory of his deity therefore which is here desired by hkn.
Not the essential glory of the Deity, for that could not be interrupted; not
any addition to it, for, being infinite, he was not capable of it, but a mani
festation of it ; not simply in itself, but in his humanity, which had been
veiled by the flesh ever since he emptied himself into it. He prays to be
glorified in that state wherein he prays, which was a state of union with the
human nature. His essential glory could suffer no detriment, his manifes-
tative did. As the sins of men are said to dishonour God, not that they
detract from the glory of his essence, which cannot suffer any diminution
by the sins of men, but as they deny and obscure the manifestation of his
glory; the sun suffers no loss of light in its body by the veil of a thick
cloud, but the brightness of his beams is masked. As the Father was to be
glorified by Christ, so was Christ to be glorified by the Father. Now, the
Father could not be glorified by the Son in a way of addition, but manifes
tation, causing the glory of God to break out upon the world, which had so
long been obscured by an universal idolatry. He glorified the Father by a
manifestation of his name, ver. 4 ; and in like manner is glorified by the
Father in the manifestation of his deity.
That Christ prays here for the glory of his deity as well as of his humanity
is evident,* because he prays as mediator and priest,,'!flesiring a mediatory
glory; but he was mediator and priest according to his divine as well as
human nature, and therefore desires that he might be known to the world,
not only to be a just and innocent man, but the eternal Son of God, the
Redeemer of the world, the expiator of sins, and in that work infinitely
delightful to the Father.
Glorify thy Son. Glorify him as thy Son, that as thy Son he may glorify
thee. The Son of God was in the world as a great light in a dark lantern,
clouded and covered with clay, that though the candle burned, it did not
appear, but through some crannies. He desires that this thick mist might
be dispersed, that the glory of his divinity might shine forth in his humanity,
as a candle through polished glass. The glory of Christ was to be manifested
to be the Son of God ; John i. 14, ' We beheld his glory, the glory as of the
only begotten of the Father ;' a glory in his resurrection, his ascension, in
the mission of the Spirit, which declared him to be no other than the only
Son of God ; and so verse 22 of this chapter is to be understood, ' The
glory which thou gavest me I have given them.' As it is my glory to be the
Son of God, so I have given them this glory, to be the sons of God by adop
tion, ' that they may be one, as we are one ;' in the same relation of sonship,
though in a different manner.
His petition for this glory he urgeth by two arguments :
(1.) One in ver. 1, ' That thy Son also may glorify thee.' The glory of
the Father was concerned in it, whose justice, wisdom, love (and all the
attributes so signally manifested in redemption), had lain under as great a
disguise without the glory of Christ, as the deity of the Son did under the
veil of his flesh.
(2.) Another,f taken from the happiness and salvation of the elect, ver. 2,
,' As thou hast given him power over all flesh, that he should give eternal
life to as many as thou hast given him.' Unless the humanity had been
glorified by a resurrection, there would have been no assurance that the debt
had been satisfied, and no sure ground of faith ; unless he had been exalted
to the right hand of God as an advocate, there had been no security for our
debts. His resurrection was necessary to make men believers for what was
passed, his exaltation was necessary to make them comfortable believers for
* Zanch, de tribus Elohim, part. i. 1. 4. c. 10. t Zanch. ut supra.

6 chabnock's woeks. [John XVII. 3.
the-time to come ; and unless his divine nature had been manifested in the
mission of the Spirit, ^nd the collation of miraculous gifts, there had been
no foundation for the propagation of the doctrine of redemption, and so that
glorious work had lain wrapped up from human view. The other was neces
sary as a ground of faith, and this was necessary to the declaration oi the
doctrine of faith, and an incentive to the embracing of it. Since he was
shortly to die, and be executed under the notion of a criminal, a blasphemer,
and a wicked man, if he were not raised again, not one would beheve in him
as mediator, and so the glory of the Father, and the salvation of the elect,
had sunk with the glory of the Son.
Observe, 1. The inexpressible care of Christ for the comfort of his people before he
went out of the world. He had preached to them, he would pray for them
in their hearing, that their joy might be full. He could not manifest his
care in an higher manner than by using his power with his Father for their
good ; here he gives an assurance of the efficacy of his mediation, the certain
terms wherein he stood with the Father. They might before have ques
tioned the truth of those things which he had said unto them ; but there was
no room for any doubt, when they find him, a httle before his death, assert
ing the same things to his Father, begging the accomplishment of them.
Howsoever some of them might suspect the declarations of a man, they would
not suspect his appeals to God.
2. The consideration of God's being a Father is the highest ground of
confidence in prayer, and a strong argument to excite the kindness of God
towards us. ' Father, glorify thy Son.' It is a glory Christ hath purchased
for, and given to, every believer, to call God Father : John xx. 17, ' My
Father and your Father ;' before his passion it was, 'I go to ihe Father,'
now ' ijow Father ' as well as mine. Not our Father, but my Father and
your Father, mine by nature, yours by grace ; yet as really yours by grace,
as mine by nature. Our addresses are to be to God as a Father, since the
relation is real, really purchased, really confirmed. Members should imi
tate the head, use their privileges, since the Redeemer hath taken our
infirmities that we might partake of his dignity. With what confidence may
a child ask, with what bowels will a father give. Christ had the sense of
his Sonship when he prayed, and we should have the sense of our adoption.
3. The passion of Christ was the determination of God. ' The hour is
come,' the time pitched to a moment, the hour and the work of the hour
agreed on and determined, between the Father and the Son, in an eternal
council ; all the consultations of the Jews against him were successless till
this hour. Times and events are in the hands of God.
4. Christ was a voluntary Redeemer. The hour is come. I am ready to
perform what thou hast enjoined and I have promised. He sought no shelter
irom suffering ; he expressed here no sorrow for it, no grief at it ; he looks
beyond the hour of suffering to the hour of glory. We should be voluntary
subjects, and look through the cloud of suffering to the glory of the crown.
5. The full assurance of obtaining what we want must not chill our sup
plications for it. Who can have greater assurance of supply than our
Redeemer had of assistance in his task, and exaltation after it ? Insured by
the promises to him, backed by the oath of God, that he should be a priest
for ever, of which he had at this time a sense and impression upon his heart,
John xiii. 1, 3, he knew that he should ' depart out of this world unto the
Father;' and ' knowing that the Father had given all things into his hands,
that he was come from God, and went to God,' yet he prays for that glory.
Promises are not damps, but incentives and guides, to prayer; they are to

John avix. 3.] the knowledge of god. 7
^"^¦^^^ "^' °°* *° """^ '^®' ¦^°'^ "^^ ^® P''^^ ^"^ ^^^*^ without a promise,
which IS the ground of faith, since prayer is nothing but a putting promises
in suit ! Precepts command us to pray^ and promises direct us what to pray
tor, with hopes of success. The promises of a seed to Christ stand firm, yet
he is now in heaven an advocate interceding for it. As Christ, though
assured, hath nothing without asking, so neither can his members. Pro
mises encourage to put in our claim to them, and not our waiving it. When
Daniel knew that the term of the church's captivity was near expired, accord
ing to the promise of God, he buckles more to prayer, Dan. ix. 2, 3.
6. The glory of God must be principally in our minds, and nearest our
hearts in all our supplications. Christ prays first for his own glory, but as
a means for the glory of his Father, before he prays particularly for the good
of the church : ' Glorify thy Son, that thy Son may also glorify thee ;' and
only for such a glory for himself, whence the glory of the Father might sprmg
with a greater brightness upon the Son ; for, by the raising Christ, and
manifesting the glory of his deity, the Father would be glorified in full declara
tions of himself, as the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the author of the
great redemption, as a God that so loved the world as to send his Son into
into it for the redemption of it. ' Hallowed be thy name,' is the first peti
tion in the Lord's prayer. The glory of God must, weigh more in our
thoughts than our private interest : his glory is to be our end in our common
actions, 1 Cor. x. 31, much more in acts of religious worship. If another
end be higher in our hearts, in our prayers, though we pray to God, we
really worship an idol, viz. self; though God be the object, yet he is not the
end. We must seek to God for all blessings, with the same end for whioh
God gives them ; he gives us the highest for his glory : Eph. i. 6, ' He hath
accepted us in his beloved, to the praise of the glory of his grace.' We
must beg for self subordinately, but for God's glory ultimately. Our Saviour
begged glory for himself, that he might return glory to his Father. To beg
any thing for ourselves principally, is the prayer of some lust, ambition, or
covetousness ; to beg any thing for God's glory is a prayer of grace, like that
of our Saviour's.
7. The glory of the Father and the Son are linked together. The Father
cannot be glorified without the Son, nor the Son without the Father. They
are in conjunction in all the actions of redemption, and therefore in the glory
redounding from it. The Father glorified the Son when he declared him to
be Saviour of the world ; and by this declaration was the Father discovered
to be full of bowels to the world. The sun in the heavens is not glorified
but in his beams, and the beam is not glorified but by the communication of
light from the sun ; what glory the sun hath is discovered in the beam, what
glory the beam hath redounds to the sun. The Father was glorified in all
his acts which concerned the glory of Christ ; his wisdom, in finding out so
full and efficacious a remedy; his justice, in his death; his power, in the sus
tentation of him in his sufferings, and his resurrection from the grave ; his
veracity, in every circumstance which had been foretold; his love and kind
ness, in the missipn of the Spirit, to spread his wings over the world, who
was before confined to the Jews. As the glory of both is linked in itself, it
must be linked in our services ; we must honour both, one as the object of
worship, the other as the medium ; the Father as the rector, Christ as the
ambassador. As the Father is not glorified by Christ, but by first glorifying
Christ, so neither is the Father glorified by us without our glorifying Christ
first by believing. When we glorify Christ as the Son of God, we glorify God
as the Father of Christ ; we cannot glorify the paternity without acknowledg
ing a filiation, nor acknowledge a filiation without honouring the paternity.

8 ohaenock's woeks. [John XVII. 3.
8. Christ's prayer being argumentative, teacheth us the manner of our
praying, which should consist of arguments for God's glory and our happi
ness : not that arguments move God to do that which he is not willing of
himself to do for us (as Christ's pressing arguments to his Fatljer was not to
inform God of the necessity of what he prayed for), as though the infinitely
wise God needed informatio'n, or the infinitely loving God needed persuasion,
but it is for strengthening our faith in him. All the prayers in the Scripture
you will find to be reasoning with God, not a multitude of words heaped
together ; and the design of the promises is to furnish us with a strength of
reason in this case : Dan. ix. 16, ' Now, according to all thy righteousness,
I beseech thee, let thy anger and thy fury be turned away from thy city
Jerusalem.' He pleads God's righteousness in his promise of the set time
of deliverance ; after he had settled his heart in a full belief of the promise
of deliverance, he shews God's own word to him. The arguments you ^vlll
find drawn from the covenant in general, or some promise in particular, or
some attribute of God, or the glory of God. ' All this prayer of Christ is full
of arguments drawn from several heads ; the first petition is backed by one :
ver. 2, ' As thou hast given him power over all flesh, that he should give
eternal life to as many as thou hast given him,' which is another reason he
urgeth for his sustentation in his passion, and his resurrection and exalta^
tion ; and the sense runs thus : — It is necessary I should be glorified,
since thou hast given me a power to give eternal life to as many as thou hast
given me, which was not given me as an empty title and useless power; give
me therefore such a glory which may make that power I am endowed with
significant for those ends for which it is conferred ; the giving eternal life
was the great end of my coming into the world, which life cannot be had
without the knowledge of thee the true God, and of Jesus Christ as mediator.
The glory of my humanity and the manifestation of my deity are necessary
to the exercise of this power, and the attainment of the end thereof, that
those which thou hast given me may know who I am, that I am a priest and
mediator of thy appointment, thy Son, in whose hands their happiness is
secure, that so they may trust me and believe in me ; and herein, 0 Father,
thou wilt be glorified, for by this they will understand how wise, holy, true,
good, merciful, loving thou art to the sons of men.
Observe, 1. The glory of Christ, and the glory of the Father in and by Christ, is
the security of the glory of the church and every believer. The glory of the
Father is the first hnk in the chain, upon which all the other benefits Christ
desires for the church do depend. The first reason he presseth for his own
glory is the glory of the Father, the next is the salvation of the elect. As
they are joined in Christ's prayer, they are also knit together in themselves.
It is the glory of God that the whole lower creation, made to set forth his
praise, should not be the triumph of the devil, that he should not boast that
he had frustrated God's design. Is it not the glory of God that his eternal
counsel should have its full accomplishment, that the beauty of his believing
creatures should be restored, tho honour of God established, and the enemies
of God put to confusion ? This hath the same bottom as the glory of the
Father hath, viz., the glory of Christ. Since this is established, the other
will be completed, and the eternal glory of believers stand as firm as the
glory of the Father. The perseverance of a believer is secured, for if it be
the honour of God to snatch souls out of the devil's hand, it is for his hon
our to keep them, that they may not be regained by the enemy from whom
they have been delivered.
2. The glory of Christ was necessary for the salvation of believers. It is

John a vii. s. ] mj. knowledge op god. 9
upon this account Christ pleads for it. Had he not been raised, sin had not
been expiated ; had he not ascended, heaven had not been opened ; had he
not been set at the right hand of God, the atonement of sin had not been
secured ; had not the Spirit been sent into the world for the glory of Christ,
the knowledge of this expiation had not been propagated.
_ 3. The infinite love of Christ shines forth in this. A power was given
him. He desires no glory of his Father but what was necessary for the
good of his people, and what he would lay out wholly for their interest.
Christ esteems not any glory but as it is of use to his elect ; and his chiefest
glory consistSj not in possessing a power, but in exercising it for their benefit.
Take notice of the love of the Father too ; this power was given by him to
this end, that he should give eternal life to those that were his Father's
donatives. Upon this the salvation of the elect stands firm. The end of
God's giving authority to Christ, and the end of Christ desiring a glory for
the exercise of that authority, is one and the same ; Christ will not be un
faithful to his Father, to neglect the end of the power he is entrusted with,
nor will he cross the end of his own petition. What stronger argument can
a believing soul urge in prayer, and embrace as a ground of faith ? The
Father's gift and the Son's request centering in one end, which will be
denied by neither, affords a strong consolation. As the end of the righteous
ness Adam had was to convey it to his posterity, so the end of the power
Christ hath is to convey righteousness and secure happiness to his spiritual
seed, who hath the immutable strength of the Deity surmounting the weak
ness and mutability of Adam's humanity, and will be as faithful to his trust
as Adam was false to his.
4. How large and extensive is the kingdom and authority of Christ ! It
IS not limited to narrow confines. It extends over every creature, over all
flesb, not one exempted ; he hath a throne above the greatest monarchs ; he
is King of kings and Lord of lords. They cannot escape his iron rod who
refuse to subject themselves to his gracious sceptre. All that are fallen
tinder the power of the devil by sin are now under the dominion of Christ in
grace or justice. All nations are subjected to him, as his inheritance and
possession. Ps. ii. 8.
5. The kingdom of Christ is by a divine authority. Thou hast given him
power : Ps. ii. 8, ' Ask of me and I will give thee.' It is not usurped, but
by an eternal grant, and perpetual. Whatsoever he doth in his kingdom, in
order to the eternal life of believers, is ratified by God the Father, the donor
of this power to him.
6. The whole scene of the government of the world is for the promoting
the eternal life of the elect. All the world is in the hands of Christ. He
hath power over all flesh for this end, to give eternal life to those that God
hath given to him. Every act of his government tends to this end. What
is the end of his power is the true end of the exercise of that power, in every
act of it in the world. It must needs be so by consequence ; and how sweet
will it be at last to see the whole combination ; how unanimously every
providence did conspire to this end, which our ignorant souls cannot now
discern !
7. We see what is the right way to gain eternal life. The power of be
stowing it is invested in Christ ; we must have recourse to him not only as
the purchaser, but as the donor, by authority from the Father. We must
believe in him as the purchaser upon the cross, call upon him as the dis
tributor upon his throne. He had power given to merit it, as he was one
sent ; he had power given him to confer it, as he was one exalted.
8. One mercy sometimes is a strong plea for the obtaining of another.

10 chabnock's woeks. [John XVH. 3.
The gift of a power over all flesh is an argument used by Christ for a further
glory. The power would be a fruitless gift ; God would lose the honour ol
it, the praise ofit, the improvement ofit, if Christ were not put mtoa lull
capacity for the exercise of it. How often may we find logic enough m one
mercy to argue for more, with that God who is not willing the honour ot His
mercy should be lost, when the desires of his creatures are to glority him.
To what purpose should God justify and sanctify, if he did not intend to
glorify ? He would else lose the glory of his former mercy, and his people
would lose the comfort of it. If God lays the foundation, it is a strong plea
for his raising the building to its full height. '
We come now to the text, ' This is eternal life,' &c.
This is a transition from his prayer, declaring what eternal hie was.
Some understand it of the intuitive knowledge of God in heaven ; but it
rather seems to be meant of the knowledge of God here m this state ot
pilgrimage. '1-111,1,4
1. The reason of the petition evinceth it.* Since thou, O Father, hast
designed me to give eternal life, I can never accompUsh this unless thou dost
glorify me, because eternal life can only be conferred on those who acknow
ledge thee, and the mediator thou hast sent. If I be not raised, none can
be rationally induced to believe me to be mediator ; and if I do not ascend
to heaven, the Spirit cannot come into the world, and consequently all
means of manifesting thee in the mediator will be wanting, and the eternal
life I was designed to give be kept from those thou hast designed for it.
2. He declares that those apostles who were then with him had known
that he came out from God, and had believed that God had sent him, ver. 8,
and so had the root of eternal life in them, who yet were without an intuitive
knowledge of God, of a blessed vision, which belongs only to a state of
glory. It must therefore be meant of a knowledge of God by faith in this
world. But it is the effect for the cause ; the knowledge of God is not formally
eternal life, but the cause of it, and the antecedent means to it. It is not
eternal life in the formality and nature of it, but in the infallibility of causa
tion ; because if men had the true knowledge of Christ impressed upon them,
it could not be but they must believe in him, and consequently have both a
right to eternal Hfe and the foretaste of it. It is frequent in the Scripture to
put the effect for the cause, as John iii. 19, ' This is the condemnation, that
light is come into the world,' i. e. this is the cause of condemnation.
This knowledge of God is not only a knowledge of God and Christ in the
theory, but such a knowledge which is saving, joined with ardent love to
him, cordial trust in him, as 1 Cor. xiii. 12, ' Then I shall know even as also
I am known,' i. e. I shall love and rejoice, as I am beloved and delighted in
by God. It is not only a knowledge of God in his will, but a knowledge of
God in his nature ; both must go together ; we must know him in his nature,
we must be obedient to his will. The devil hath a greater knowledge of
God's being than any man upon earth, but since he is a rebel to his will, he
is not happy by his knowledge. It must be such a knowledge as leads to
¦ eternal life, and hath a necessary and infallible connection with it, as the
effect with the cause, which is not between a speculative knowledge and sal
vation. It must be therefore such a knowledge which descends from the
head to the heart, which is light in the mind and heat in the affections ;
such a knowledge of God as includes faith in him.
Two things constitute this knowledge :
1. We must know God, the true God, as the gospel discovers him, in
* Gerhard. Harm, cap, 180.

John XVII. 3.] the knowledge of god. 11
opposition to all false gods ; that he is spiritual, just, powerful, merciful,
faithful. 2. We must know God as the Father of Christ ; we must know him in
that relation to Christ, without which knowledge we can have no right con
ceptions of the economy of redemption, because all proceeds from the Father
through the Son.
That which is the greatest stumbling-block in the text is that clause,
' thee the only true God,' whereby some would exclude the deity of Christ.
Christ prays to the Father, and acknowledgeth him the only true God ; if
the Father therefore, say some, be the only true "God, then Christ is not
God, and they tell us that Christ is Deus f actus, Deus constitutus. But to say
a made God, is as great nonsense as to say an uncteated creature. Both
carry a contradiction in the terms. The Scripture doth frequently and
plainly assert the deity of Christ : no creature can be equal with God. But
Christ was ' in the form of God,' and ' thought it no robbery to be equal
with God,' Philip, ii. 6. He was equal to God in his deity, though inferior to
God in his humanity ; the form of God stooped to the form of a servant,
but the form of a servant despoiled him of nothing essential to the form of
God ; he ceased not to be what he was before, when he became in the womb
of the virgin what he was not before. ' All things that the Father hath are
mine,' saith Christ, John xvi. 15 ; what is more the Father's than his
essence and deity ? The essence, therefore, and deity of the Father is the
essence and deity of the Son. Austin argues well uf on John i. 3, ' All things
were made by him,' by the Word ; therefore, himself was not made, for
nothing can make itself ; and, it is added, ' without him nothing was made.'
Therefore, the Xoya is not ex rebus factis. He is therefore God, for there is
no medium ; and he is called ' God blessed for ever :' Rom. ix. 5, ' Of whom
as concerning the flesh Christ came, who is over all, God blessed for ever.'
Where the Greek article o is added, which the adversaries of this truth deny
to be added to Seoj when it is attributed to Christ ; and John, as if he had
foreseen what work would be made of this solum against the deity of Christ,
gives us an antidote against it : 1 John v. 20, ' We are in him that is true,
in his Son Jesus Christ. This is the true God, and eternal life ;' where the
article also is added.
The answer to this is various.
1. Some* understand the word iMovo^Tone, not alone, or only, and so trans
late it, that they may know thee the one true God ; and the word is often of
that signification.
2. Others say Christ here acknowledgeth the Father the only true God,
because the Father is the fountain of the Deity. In regard of the essence,
there is no prerogative, but only in respect of the persons, which consists
only in order and personality, as the Father is said to beget and the Son
said to be begotten. That may be affirmed in one respect, which cannot in
another ; as Mark xiii. 32, the Son is said not to know the day of judgment,
but the Father ; not the Son of man, but the Son absolutely ; he knew it
not as man, but he knew it as God.
3. Others say, to omit many other answers, that this particle only is put
to exclude false gods, which is most satisfactory. It excludes none that are
of the same essence, but all that are not. The Son is not excluded from be
ing God, as Deut. xxxii. 12, ' So the Lord alone did lead them,' .Jehovah.
The Son is not excluded by that name Jehovah, for Christ led them, and in
their murmuring they are said to tempt Christ, 1 Cor. x. 9. It was Christ
who is called the angel of the Lord that conducted them, Exod. xxiii. 20,
* Zanch. de trib Eloh. part. 1, lib. 4, cap. 10.

12 chabnock's woeks. [John XVII. 3.
Exod. xxxii. 34, Isa. Ixiii. 9. The word only^ doth not exclude the Son ;
for then, when it is joined with the Son, it should exclude the Father from
being God. But it is joined with the Son, Isa. xiv. 22, ' Look unto me, and
be ye saved, all the ends of the earth; for I am God, and there is none else ;
I have sworn by myself, that unto me every knee shall bow, and every tongue
shall swear.' That this is understood of Christ by the best interpreter is
evident, Rom. xiv. 10, 11, where, speaking ofthe standing of all before the
judgment-seat of Christ, he proves it by this place. ' For as it is written , As I
live, saith the Lord, every knee shall bow to me, and every tongue shall con
fess to God.' In Isaiah, it is spoken in opposition to idols, as appears by
the 20th verse ; and according to the apostle's understanding, it was Christ
that spake there, asserting three times there was no God besides him, ver.
21, 22. Shall the Father therefore be excluded from the Deity, because
Christ saith so positively there is no God besides him ? _ There is no place
to which that in the Romans can refer, but to that in Isaiah.
Again, worship is due only to God : Mat. iv. 10, ' Thou shalt worship the
Lord thy God, and him only shalt thou serve.' Doth this exclude Christ
fi-om being worshipped, to whom it is due from the angels as well as from
men? Again, this word only in other cases doth not exclude, but include, those
that have the same respect with the person spoken of, as Deut. i. 35, 36,
God swears that not one of that generation should see the good land save
Caleb; yet Joshua is not»excluded, who manifested the same integrity in the
report of Canaan after tney had been to view it.
Again, when Paul saith, he ' determined to know nothing but Jesus Christ,
and him crucified,' 1 Cor. ii. 2, doth he exclude the knowledge of God the
Father, and the knowledge of Christ glorified as well as crucified ? No,
surely. . ,
Again, what is attributed to the Son, the Spirit is not excluded from ;
therefore what is attributed to the Father, neither the Son nor the Spirit are
excluded from. As when it is said, Mat. xi. 27, ' None knows the Father
but the Son,' is the Spirit excluded, who ' searcheththe deep things of God,'
and 'knows the things of God'? 1 Cor. ii. 11. And indeed, in common
expression, the word only is not exclusive of any that are in conjunction with
a person we speak of ; as when we speak of a tradesman that usually hath
the choicest commodities of this or that sort, we say he is the only man in
London for such wares ; we exclude not those that are partners with him in
his trade, but all that are not in conjunction with him in it.
4. The scope of the place doth evidence that the Father is called the true
God, in opposition to idols ;t for when Christ saith all power was given to
him, that he might give eternal life to as many as were given to him, — those
that were given to him were among the Gentiles as well as the Jews, — ^he
here respects them both. The Gentiles worshipped many gods, the Jews
worshipped one God, but rejected Christ as mediator. Now the knowledge
of both is necessary to salvation. In the first clause, he respects the multi
plicity of heathen gods ; in the other, the Jewish contempt of the mediator.
So then the expression excludes only the heathen idols. In 1 Thes. i. 9,
' How you turned to God from idols, to serve the living and true God,'
God is called the true God in opposition to idols.
5. The deity of Christ is asserted in every verse almost before and after,
and therefore is not excluded in this. He hath ' power over all flesh, to give
eternal life' to them ; too great a power to be entrusted in the hands of a
mere creature, and too great a gift to spring from af mere creature. The one
* Gerhard. Harm. cap. 180. t Ibid.

John AVii. a. I the knowledge of god. 13
is an infinite power, and cannot be managed by a finite head and hand ; it
requires omniscience' to the due exercise of it; the other is an infinite
happiness, and cannot be bestowed and secured by a finite strength. This
eternal life is the knowledge of God ; there must be a work upon the under
standing and upon the will to produce this saving knowledge. These two
faculties in spiritual things lie open only to the touch of an infinite power.
The power over all creatures extends to their inward motions, thoughts,
turnings of their heart for the good of the elect, which is only the prero
gative of God, not of a creature. He had a glory with the Father before the
world was, ver. 5 ; not in his humanity before it was in being, therefore in
the deity ; and the glory conferred upon his humanity cannot be managed
without a conjoined divinity.
Again, the knowledge of the Son is made a cause of eternal life, as well
as the knowledge of the Father. It is not to be thought that the knowledge
of any creature should be counted equally necessary to salvation with the
knowledge of God ; if our happiness consist in the knowledge of both, then
both the Father and the Son are of the. same nature. The ieim Father
manifests it ; God was the Father of Christ from eternity ; Christ was with
him before any creature was in being ; if the Father were the eternal
Father, the Son must be an eternal Son.
6. I might offer another consideration of this place, viz., that the true
God may refer to the veracity of God the Father in his covenant with Christ,
and his promises to us (the Syriac seems to carry it this way ; ' To know
thee to be the only God of truth '). A fiducial knowledge is here meant, a
knowledge accompanied with faith and trust in God, the ground whereof is
particularly the veracity and faithfulness of God in his promise ; and the
truth of God in his promise to man is founded upon the truth of God in
performing his covenant with Christ, which Christ insists upon, ver. 4, 5,
where he speaks of his own office performed by him in the manifestation of
God's name, as a work God gave him to do, and claims a glory as due by ^
former transaction between them. Or thus, I cannot give eternal life unless
I be glorified : by this thou wilt evidence thyself to be a true sincere God, not
giving me an empty power ; and men's knowing and understanding this,
and thereby knowing me to be thy Christ, sent by thee, will be their way to
eternal life. Or it may be understood of the promises declared by the
prophets of exalting him after the performance ofhis work upon the earth ; and
by the glorifying of him after he had made himself a sacrifice, God would
declare himself a God of truth in the performance of the covenant made
with him, and the promises published by the prophets, the knowledge whereof
would be a motive to and ground of faith, and so the means of eternal hfe.
So it is life eternal to know and believe in God as a God of truth in his
promises made to and concerning Christ, not only in his mission but his
exaltation. The word u-KriSmg is many times taken so* as oKn^mi Xoyot
(Plutarch), and aXrihvot .(plXoi, true friends, that do not deceive. The Father
80 may be said to be the only true God, as he was the person promising
Christ to us, and covenanting with Christ about the work of redemption, and
the person to whom the mission of Christ is ascribed. Christ was. the person
promised to us as a Redeemer, and the person covenanting with God the
Father about redemption. Christ now being upon a plea for himself and
his people, that he might be enabled to glorify God, urgeth the declaration
of God's veracity, as the only means whereby eternal life might be conveyed
to men And since veracity is an essential attribute, neither the Son nor
the Hoiy Ghost are excluded' from being the true God ; but the Father is
* Stephani Thesaurus.

14 chabnock's woeks. [John XVII. 3,
considered here in a personal transaction, as standing in the present economy.
I will not urge it, because it is an untrodden path, but leave it to considera
tion, which perhaps it may somewhat deserve.
We may see in the text,
First, The cause or nature of happiness, knowledge, by way of excellency
and exclusion of everything else as the cause of happiness.
Secondly, The object of this knowledge, God and Christ.
1. God : to know him in his nature, perfections, effluxes in and through
Christ ; to know him as one.
2. Christ : to know him as commissioned and sent by God ; in his person
and in his offices.
3. Conjunctly : God and Christ, God in Christ. It is h Sia BvoTv, as 2
Pet. i. 2, ' through the knowledge of God and Jesus Christ,' i. e. through
the knowledge of God in Christ ; and Rom. i. 5, ' grace and apostleship,'
i. e. the grace of apostleship.
Observe, 1. Knowledge of God and Christ is the life and happiness of the soul.
What meat is to the body, that, and more, are divine truths to the soul. In
the clear sight of God as the supreme good, the understanding is satisfied,
the will filled with love, and all the desires of the soul find the centre of
their rest. The vision of God in heaven is the satisfaction of the soul, and
the imperfect knowledge of him here is our imperfect felicity. It is the root
of eternal life, whioh will spring up in time to mature fruit, to the knowledge
of him above, which is the complete happiness. True happiness ariseth
from truth known and goodness beloved.*
2. Eternal life and happiness consists not in any worldly thing, not in
riches or honours. The soul is a more excellent part of a man than the
body ; the happiness of it must consist in something which is the proper
object of it ; and more excellent in the rank of beings than the understanding
is in the rank of faculties. The operations of that conduce more to felicity
than the actions of sense. '
3. The knowledge of Christ is as necessary to happiness as the knowledge
of God. If a man had the knowledge of God in as clear a manner as the
angels have, yet without a knowledge of Christ he were as remote from
happiness as the devil. Though the knowledge of Christ be not simply
necessary to the angels who never fell, and so needed not a mediator, yet it
is necessary to us, who are obnoxious to God's wrath, and so need a recon
ciler, because of the enmity ; a redeemer, because of our slavery ; a refiner,
because of our filthiness ; a mediator, because of our distance to bring us to
God. 4. The true knowledge of Christ is not only a knowledge of his person,
but a knowledge of his commission as sent. It is a material question that
the pharisees asked our Saviour, ' By what authority doest thou these things ?'
though they asked it maliciously, to get advantage against him by his answer.
We could have no comfort if we did not know and consider by what authority
he acted in this great affair. Our security in Christ lies in his authority
from God. Faith hath comfort in him as he is the Son of God • comfort in
him as he is God's commissioner, but higher comfort as he is both joined
together. As being the Son of God, he hath ability ; as being sent of God, he
hath authority. He might have been the Son of God without authority to
such a work, had he not been commissioned ; he might have been sent of
God, and commissioned by him, and not have done the work he was ap
pointed, had he not been the Son of God, and so had an infiniteness of
* Senault.

"OHii X*. if i.i.. t>.j Ijajci KHO'vvxjjciiiwjL OP GOD. 15
ability. Christ sets out both these as the ground of faith to us : ' Glorify thy
Son,' ver. 1 ; ' whom thou hast sent,' in the text.
Those whioh I insist upon are,
Doct. I. The knowledge of God, and Christ the mediator, is the necessary
means to eternal life and happiness.
Doct. II. The true and saving knowledge of God is only in and by Christ.
I. For the first. The knowledge of God and Christ the mediator is the,
necessary means of eternal life and happiness. It is the knowledge of God
as discovered, not in the creatures, but in the Scripture ; a knowledge of God
through faith in Christ, which is able to make us wise to salvation. The
tree of knowledge in paradise became our death, and the tree of know
ledge in the gospel becomes our life. The knowledge of God and Christ
doth not only free us from a dark and obscure walk, but is ' the light of life,'
John viii. 12. The true knowledge of God and Christ is an effectual and
infallible means of salvation, because upon such knowledge faith doth depend :
Psal. ix. 10, ' They that know thy name will put their trust in thee.' Though
no man can come to Christ unless the Father draw him, yet God draws
every man by the cords of a man, by such means as are proportioned and
fitted to the principles of his nature. Now it is as proper for a man to be
led and drawn by the light of knowledge, as it is for a spark to fly upwards,
or a stone to move downward. The drawing by the Father to Christ
is explained by God's teaching of men, and men's apprehension of that
teaching ; and between men's thus learning of that which God teacheth, and
their coming to Christ, there is an essential connection : John vi. 45, ' Every
one that hath heard and learned of the Father cometh unto me.'
This knowledge is a certain, full, and persuasive assent to the unity of
God, his nature, his word; to the mediation of Christ, and God's communi
cations through him grounded upon a divine light, as plain and evident to
the mind as any natural light is.
I. In general, what kind of knowledge this is.
II. That this is necessary.
III. In what respects it is necessary.
IV. What are the properties of this knowledge, whereby it isdistinguished
from other knowledge which is not saving.
V. Use.
I. What kind of knowledge in general this is.
1. There is a speculative knowledge : a study and knowledge of God
upon the same account that men study and desire to know other things that
are excellent and delightful ; as both the contemplation of God in creation,
and the contemplation of God in redemption, afford notions very gustful to
a delicate understanding. Thus a man speculatively knows God and Christ
when he is well skilled in the revelation of God, the history of Christ, the
analogy between the types and predictions of Christ in the Old Testament,
and the accomplishment of them in the New, in the person of Christ. A
knowledge of God by creation many of the wiser sort of heathens had, who
have discoursed excellently of the nature of God : Rom. i. 21, they are said
to ' know God.' A knowledge of God by revelation, the Jews had in the
Old Testament, who yet rejected the Son of God ; a knowledge of Christ
many learned men professing Christianity have, who know Christ in the bark
of the letter, not in the sap of the Spirit ; as the Jews knew him under the
veil of types, but were ignorant of his person when he came among them.
This is such a knowledge which men have of a beautiful picture, or a comely
person with whom they have no acquaintance ; or as an astronomer knows

16 chabnock's woeks. [John XVII. 3.
the stars without receiving any more special influence from them than other
men, or the inanimate creatures.
(1.) This knowledge is natural. In regard of natural education, whereby
they suck in and vent those notions rooted in them ; in regard of natural
principles in the soul, which conclude something of God, though nothing of
Christ. There are some fragments of the broken tables of the law in the
hearts of men, whereby they know the being of a God, aud something ofhis
nature, helped by reason and discourse, removing imperfections fi;om him in
their conceptions of him, and comparing him with things that are most
excellent in their apprehensions. But there is no natural knowledge of
Christ ; for all the sparklings of creatures, and all the letters of the law laid
in them and put together, present not a syllable of a mediator. But this
natural, educative, and historical knowledge, is not that here meant. It is
a spiritual knowledge our Saviour intended ; for he intended that which hath
a connection with eternal life, which must have a principle framed by an
higher hand than that of nature. As things visible in themselves cannot be
seen without a visive faculty and eye, and that well tempered, and rightly
disposed for the perception of the object, so neither can God, who is wholly
spiritual, be spiritually known by evangehcal revelation, without the cure of
the mind from those films which are upon it by corruption. A spiritual
principle is as necessary to a saving knowledge of God, as a visive faculty is
to the discerning of visible objects.
(2.) This is not enough. A man may know an artificer by the excellency
of his workmanship, without any affection to his person : Rom. i. 21, ' They
glorified him not as God, nor were thankful.' Not one of all those philo
sophers, as one observes,* though they discoursed of one God, had some
right apprehensions of his nature, yet ever composed one hymn in the praise
of him ; though there be among their poets some hymns writ in the praise
of their fabulous deities. They pleased themselves barely in those inquiries
and reasonings, without descending to that piety which is the true end of
knowledge ; and though their understandings had some glimmerings of light, '
their wills sunk under their imperious unrighteousness. If a speculative
knowledge were our felicity, the devil, who is in the deepest misery, would
be seated in the highest happiness. He knows God, because once he enjoyed
him ; he knew Christ, because he most feared him ; he did profess his
knowledge of him, when ecarce any upon earth well understood what he was :
Luke iv. 34, ' I know thee who thou art, the Holy One of God ;' yet, not
withstanding that knowledge, was desirous to continue in the exercise of his
government, and the practice of his impieties : ' Let us alone.' His know
ledge is not his eternal life, but his eternal death. Since, therefore, God is
known in his perfections more by the devils, his professed enemies, than by
any ofthe sons of men, this knowledge of God, which is the way to eternal '
life, is such a discovery which never did nor ever can enter into the hearts
of devils. Speculative knowledge of God, without any further relish, is like
the knowledge of the nature of meat in the brain of a starved philosopher
that hath not a bit of bread to put into his stomach. Speculations are often
a torment without affections. No man could find a repose in the knowledge
of God in heaven without love in his will, as well as light in his mind. Light
\rithout heat preserves not a man from chillness and shaking. '
(3.) Yet though this speculative knowledge be not saving, it is useful in
the world. It is a promise that the earth shall be full of the knowledge of
the Lord : Isa. xi. 9, ' They shall not destroy in all my holy mountain, for
* Estius in loc: 'AVhat they knew naturally, in those things they did commt
themselves.' '' i^^

John avu. b.j the knowledge of god. 17
the earth shall be full of the knowledge of the Lord.' Not a saving know
ledge, because it is of another kind than the knowledge in the mountain of
the Lord, and subjectively, in the earth, the carnal part of the world, as
distinguished from the holy mountain. By such a knowledge in man, God
secures his people from the evil of the world, and justifies his proceedings
in the hearts and consciences of the world. It is also useful to the person
that hath it ; for without this he eould never have a saving knowledge ; it
is the foundation of a spiritual : though a speculative might be without a
spiritual, yet a spiritual cannot be without a speculative ; a foundation may
be without a superstructure, but a superstructure can never be without a
foundation. 2. There is a practical knowledge of God and Christ, which is not onl')
an acquaintance with God, but a laying up his words in our hearts. Job xxii.
21, 22 ; which is not a floating knowledge in the head, but a knowledge
sinking to the heart ; not a knowledge in the brain, but efficacious to make
an union with him : 1 John v. 20, ' He hath given us an understanding
that we may know him that is true, and we are in him that is true,' where
union follows upon knowledge. The speculations of God may fill the head,
and the heart be empty of a sense of him, and the life barren of an imita
tion of God. This doth not deserve the name of a knowledge, but in the
apostle's account is truly an ignorance : 1 John ii. 3, 4, ' Hereby we know
that we know him, if we keep his commandments. He that saith I know
him, and keeps not his commandments, is a liar, and the truth is not in
him.' Such answer not the end of knowledge ; and it can no more rationally
be called a knowledge of God, since it hath no life and soul in it, than a dead
carcase can be called a man. Such a knowledge, that hath no life in it,
cannot be the means to eternal life : what hath not life cannot convey life.
The devil's knowledge is a dead knowledge, but the^knowledge of God in an
angel, joined with obedience to God in his practice, is his eternal life. The
other is knowledge floating in the brain, buoyed up by some corrupt lust
from sinking further. This is wisdom ' entering into the soul,' ' truth in
the hidden parts,' Ps. li. 6 ; not a flourish in the paper, but a letter ; the
knowledge of the object, and an embracing the end of that knowledge. For
though it may be a clear knowledge in the head, yet it is really a deep igno
rance, a fluttering bubble, because the notion of God is not sucked in for
that end for which it is let out ; it is made known, that it may be melted
into an affectionate practice, and not lie like a hard lump in the head. Every
man ought to know God in order to his embracing him ; and without this
affection and love he knows nothing as he ought to know : 1 Cor. viii. 2,
' If any man think that he knows anything, he knows nothing yet as he ought
to know.' For a man may have knowledge enough to stuff his head, but if
barred from his heart and affections, it stands but begging in the outward
court for admittance. The thinking of God and Christ with the head, and
embracing Christ with the heart, are two distinct things ; as the seeing a
country in a map, and by travelling over it with our feet, are different kinds
of knowledge. The one is a knowledge of the truth, the other ' an acknow
ledgment of it as it is after godliness,' Tit. i. 1. When the notion of God
is not only pictured in the head, but the image of God engraven upon the
heart ; when the stamp in the heart is like that in tho word, as a counter
part of a writing : a heart to be his people, as God hath a heart to be our
God : Jer. xxiv. 7, * I will give them an heart to know me ; they shall be
my people, I will be their God : for they shall return unto me with their
whole heart.' The evangelical promise is not so much to give us an head
(though that is included), as a heart to know God.
VOL. IV. ^

18 chabnock's woeks. [John XVII. 3.
For, .
(1.) This is an enlivening knowledge. A spiritual knowledge is always
attended with a spiritual life ; a new man, and such a knowledge as is after
the image of God, go together : Col. iii. 10, ' Having put on the new man,
which is renewed in knowledge, after the image of him that created him.'
As the natural image of God consisted in understanding and will, so the
spiritual image of God by grace consists in a rectifying those faculties ; the
understanding with a spiritual knowledge, and the will with a spiritual bias.
The faculties we have from God as creator by nature, the operation of those
faculties about thek proper spiritual objects we have by grace. As the
apostle distinguisheth ' the form of godliness ' from ' the power,' 2 Tim. iii.
5, so he doth a form of knowledge from the life of it, Rom. ii. 20, which is
a knowledge in the letter, not in the spirit, verse 29 ; the one is a picture
wherein every limb is painted, the other is quickened and animated with a
divine Hfe. Speculative knowledge is as the light of torches, guiding, not
heating ; this as the sun, which both directs and warms ; a fire felt as well
as seen ; truth known, and truth used as a compass to sail by. When the
knowledge of the nature o^ God is impressed upon us for imitation, and is,
as the conference of Christ with his disciples, inflaming the heart, Luke
xxiv. 32, and driving away the cold affections towards God ; when righteous
ness is understood as well as judgment, and that as a path, and a good path,
to walk in ; when we are not only directed to the path, but are pleased with
the goodness of it, and tbe approving wisdom enters into the heart, and the
knowledge of it becomes pleasant to the soul, Prov. ii. 9, 10 ; when there
is not only a knowledge of God, but a liking to retain it ; a sight of the sun,
and a delight in his beams ; a knowledge of the fire, and approach to its
heat ; a mighty pleasure in God and Christ, as a sweet ointment poured
forth ;* when God is known and embraced as the chief good and ultimate
end ; Christ known and embraced as the way to be at peace with God, and
an honourer of him : such a knowledge as is not only like animal spirits in
the brain, but vital spirits in the heart enabling for action ; not like a cloud
hanging in the air, but distilling in fruitful showers for the assistance of the
earth. (2.) A likening knowledge. When we know Christ crucified in the con
quest of our sins by his death, Christ glorified in the elevation of our souls
by his ascension. To know a living God with a dead heart is at best but a
carnal knowledge, a dead knowledge, unsuitable to a living object, which
calls for lively actions. To know Christ crucified, and have no efficacy of
his death ; to know Christ risen, and lie closed up in the grave of sin ; to
know Christ is ascended, and have creeping affections upon the earth : this
is a notion of Christ, not a knowledge of him. That is the teaching of
God, when the truth is learned ' as it is in Jesus,' Eph. iv. 21. Powerfully
directive, conforming the soul, as it did the human nature of Christ, to the
will and mind of God, when the understanding is not forced to comply with
the corrupt appetite of the will, but the will conformed to the true notions
of an enlightened understanding. Such a knowledge, which ravisheth the
mind, quickens the prayers, seasons ^he converse, and fortifies against temp
tations. Such a knowledge as wraps up the soul in admiration, spirits the
will to operation, allures it to a close union with the truth discovered, till it
be like a leaven working in the will, and shaping the whole man according
to its own mould. The fixing onr eye on God by a spiritual knowledge
derives a tincture from him, dyeing our gouls into his own likeness ; if the
* By knowledge, the Jews for the most part, if not always, uni'erstand a practical
knowledge ; and by wisdom, a theoretical. — Jacchiades in Dan, i. 4'.

John XVII. 3.] the knowledge op god. ' 19
life doth not differ from that of an infidel, the knowledge, though as hiah as
an angel's, is no more saving than that of a devil. °
And if knowledge be not thus,
[1.] It is useless. No knowledge in the world is commendable but as it
is digested into will and reduced into practice. Should the eye direct the
hand and foot, and they never move, what advantage would the body have
by the eye's direction ? It is all one to be blind, and not to have the end
of the visive faculty answered by the motion of the members.
[2.] It is not commensurate to divine revelation. It is not a knowledge
according to the word, if it be not like the word, the instrumental cause of
it ; if it be not ' sharper than a two-edged sword, piercing to the dividing
asunder of the soul and spirit,' the rational part from comphance with the
corrupt affections of the sensitive, and so a destroyer as well as ' discerner
of .the sordid thoughts and intents of the heart,' Heb. iv. 12. No material
thing is perfectly known, unless it leave an impression upon those senses
which are requisite for the knowledge of it ; neither is divine truth known,
unless it leave a full and commanding impression upon the mind, the faculty
of knowledge. And because divine things are revealed for their goodness as
well as for their truth, and the truth revealed in order to the apprehension
of their goodness, it is not knowledge suitable to the intent of divine revela
tion, if the goodness hfe not swallowed and digested, as well as the truth
chewed. 3. There is an experimental knowledge of God. Speculative knowledge
is a sound of words and thoughts, experimental a sense of them, and God
hath not left the soul without a spiritual relish, any more than he hath left
the body without a tasting palate. And, therefore, one* calls it well gus
tos spiritualis judicii ; it is a witness of the truth in us, 1 John v. 10. There
is a knowledge of Christ after the flesh, an admiration and esteem of him, as
some excellent moralist that hath published eminent precepts for the regula
tion of human conversation. This is no more a saving knowledge of Christ
than the knowledge of a philosopher's thesis, or Seneca's moral aphorisms,
amount to. It is a putting Christ in the same balance with them. But a
spiritual knowledge of Christ is not only a relish of those precepts, but a
draught of Christ ' in the soul, a receiving the spiritual emanations of God
and Christ upon the heart. It is to know God in the power of his grace,
and Christ in the virtue of his life, Philip, iii. 10 ; God in the streams of his
love, and Christ in the sweetness of his blood ; 'sfhen we see him upon the
cross, and taste him in the soul, which is not only a knowledge by the under
standing, but a knowledge by a spiritual sense, Philip, i. 9.
There is such a knowledge as this. The Scripture expresseth the know
ledge of God by the acts of sense, as well as by the acts of reason ; for we
have more experience of things by sense than we have by discourse. After
the discourse of anything with all the reason in the world, there must be
recourse to sense to make it plain and evident ; hence ariseth the advantage
of similitudes drawn from sensible objects, which clear what mere reason is
not able to do. We find the knowledge of God set out by the acts of sense ;
as by tasting, 1 Pet. ii. 3, ' If so be you have tasted that the Lord is gra
cious ;' or reUshing, Mat. xvi. 23 ; by smelling, 2 Cor. ii. 14, ' The savour
of his knowledge ;' by feeling, 1 John i. 1 ; often by seeing, which, being
the quickest and most piercing sense, represents things to the understanding
more clearly than bare report. And this kind of knowledge is necessary to
happiness, for without it we can have no clear nor worthy notions of God,
but more likely disparaging ones ; as a man that never saw the stateliness
* Junius.

20 chabnock's woeks. [John XVII. 3.
of London, or any city like it, cannot mount higher in his conceptions of it
than that it may be a little better than the best market town which he hath
seen in his country, but he is not like to have conceits of it accordmg to the
greatness of the place, the magnificence of the buildings, the gallantry of the
people. When once he comes to behold it, he will find his former concep
tions of it to be vastly short of the beauty of the place. He would scarce
be convinced of it without a sight. Indeed, this knowledge of God is im
perfect here because of our present state. But some experience there is
here answering to the vision hereafter, as a map of that which the soul is
travelling to a sight of. This kind of knowledge of God is banished from
the unclean spirits ; they have lost the savour of what they knew of God,
and feel nothing but the power of his wrath.
This differs from a speculative knowledge,
(1.) In the means and manner of knowing ; not in the object. The
object is the same in both God and Christ, the difference lies in the manner
of their apprehension. One is by a common created understanding, the
other is by an understanding given for that peculiar end : 1 John v. 20,
' The Son of God hath given us an understanding, that we may know him
that is true.' One is a conception of God, the other a taste; one knows
God as a man by human strength, the other knows God as "a Christian by
sense and a divine knowledge ; one is by ' feehng after God,' Acts xvii. 27,
the- other is by God's breaking out in divine beams upon the soul, Uke a
' day star arising in the heart,' 2 Peter i. 19. One is by the natural strength
of the understanding, improved by hearing, meditation, discourse ; the
other is the effect of an infused faith and the Spirit's operation ; one knows
God in the Scripture by reading, the other by relish, and finds something
in his own heart agreeing with it ; what he reads with his eye is drawn by
a divine pencil in the soul. There is a knowledge of a thing without us,
and a knowledge of a thing within us. Men know there is a happy heaven,
and heathens entertained it as an universal notion ; but a believer knows it
in himself by some beamings upon his heart, — Heb. x. 34, ' Knowing in
yourselves that you have in heaven a better and an enduring substance,' —
which do more powerfully break in upon him in the time of sufferings. So
there is a knowledge of God from reason, nature, report, and a knowledge of
God in ourselves by the workings of his grace. A man may know this or
that meat to be sweet by report, yet not have the knowledge of it by taste ;
the one depends upon the strength of his head to conceive, the other upon
the goodness of the palate to relish it. Though both have the same object,
yet they are not the same knowledge ; he that prays from right principles,
and he that prays from wrong, have the same object of prayer ; both pray to
God, but they differ in the manner of their praying, which makes one
acceptable, the other not, and therefore the object doth not make our prayer
right; so neither doth the object make our knowledge saving. Yet the first"
knowledge makes us in a capacity for this, but it is frequently without it ; a
man may know that which he doth not spiritually desire, but he can never
spiritually desire that which he doth not know. As the manner of Adam's
knowing sin before and after his fall was different, so is the manner of know
ing God. Adam knew sin in the theory before he was guilty (for, knowing
the law, he could not but know what was contrary to the law, and what acts
would violate it), but when he turned offender he knew the power of sin, felt
the evil of that which he did before but understand. A natural man knows
God as Adam did . sin before his fall, he understands something of his
nature ; but a gracious man feels the influences of God, and finds himseJ
under the power of divine grace.

John XVII. 3.] the knowledge op god. ' 21
(2.) In the clearness of knowing. This is such a knowledge that can
better describe God, from his spiritual illapses into the soul, than the clearest
reasons of men with all their speculative notions. A blind man may know
something of the reasons of colours, but he cannot know them so feelingly
as he that hath eyes in his head. A man may know wine by the sight and
smell, but not so clearly as when he tastes the sweetness, and feels the
cordial warmth of it in his stomach. Speculative knowledge is such a
knowledge as Peter and John had of Christ's resurrection upon the report of
Mary Magdalene, John xx. 2, 3, &c. They saw the linen clothes, and no body
there, which increased their belief and knowledge ; this was a dim-sighted
knowledge to that which Christ gave them by his apparition. When they
could see both his hands and his sides, this was an experimental knowledge ;
and when he pronounced peace to them, this was a knowledge of interest, an
assurance given that they were interested in the happiness and fruits of his
resurrection. There is an excellency in divine knowledge that cannot be
discovered by the tongues of men or angels ; an experience and spiritual
sensation renders a man more intelhgent than all discourses can. As the
natural sense best judgeth of sensible objects, so doth the spiritual sense of
divine. He that hath tasted honey hath a more lively knowledge ofit than
the most learned man that never tasted the sweetness, or felt the operations
of it. Nor can any conceive so clearly of the exceUency of the sun, by
the discourses of the richest fancies, as by seeing its glory and feeling the
warmth of its beams. A man's own sense will better inform him of the
beauty of the heavens than the elevated reasonings of philosophers. Divine
truth acted upon the heart, and felt in its influence, is more plainly known
than by discourse and reason. I would rather have the feeling which a
sincere soul hath of God, than all the descriptions of him by a notional
apprehension. One is knowledge in the notion, the other in reality ; the
one is the effect of well-educated nature and common grace, the other the
fruit of a spiritual eye-salve, Rev. iii. 18, and an inward breathing ; the
one is a shining upon the head, the other a shining into the heart,
2 Cor. iv. 6.
(3.) In regard of the effects. This works the effects which the other is
too weak to produce. A little experimental sense of the majesty of God
brought Job more upon his knees than all the pressing discourses of his
friends, or his own knowledge before his affliction : Job xiii. 5, 6, 'I have
heard of thee by the hearing of the ear, but now my eyes see thee ; where
fore I abhor myself.' A glimpse of God will bring forth more saving fruits
than all the reports of him to the ear, or speculations in the mind. God
and Christ felt, refresh the soul more than the lifeless notions of them. The
inward virtue of bread tasted and digested refresheth the body more than the
colour and figure can delight the eye. The contemplation of meat may
please a philosophical understanding, but the turning it into our nature, the
having it in our body, strengthens and cherisheth the whole man. There is
a pleasure in the historical knowledge of God and Christ, a pleasure in the
meditation of the nature of God, the ends of the coming, passion, and resur
rection of Christ, the nature of his mediation. But what is this to the
powerful operation in our hearts, and the conveyance of his life into our
souls ? Just as meditation of health by a sick man comes short of the
pleasure of feeling health in his veins, and every member of his body. The
one is like the delight a man takes in seeing a city in a map, the other like
the contentment he takes in seeing the strength of the place, the beauty of
the buildings, the harmony of the government, and the observations he
makes thereupon.

22 ch.venock's woeks. [John XVII. 3.
4. There is a knowledge of interest ; or an interested knowledge of God
and Christ. Experimental knowledge Peter and John had of Christ's resurrec
tion when Christ appeared to them, interested knowledge when he pro
nounced peace to them. Though the knowledge of the excellency of God,
' and of Christ's going to heaven, is a ground of comfort, yet an interest in
this is the formal part of our felicity. What satisfaction can we have, if we
have no part in God, if Christ went not to heaven /or us ? The devil hath
a knowledge of God in the theory, but a torment from that knowledge in
the reflection. The knowledge of God, without hopes of an interest in him,
is terrifying. While Adam retained his purity, 'the attributes of God were
cordials to him, he could delight in his goodness, have access to his power,
refresh himself by the faithfulness of God ; innocence and interest see
nothing but what is highly ravishing in God ; but all the divine perfections
which took the' part of innocent man, whUe he continued faithful to the law
of his creation, render God terrible to faUen nature ; there can be no
happy knowledge of God, with a satisfaction to the soul, without a recovery
of his lost interest. That knowledge which renders us as happy as we can
be in this world, is to know God in covenant our God; to know God as our
Father, Christ as our Mediator ; to know Christ as a surety paying our
debts, and God as a creditor accepting the payment for us ; to know God in
his eternal counsels as a Father ; to know Christ in all his offices as our
perfect Redeemer, settling and securing our happiness upon a stable bottom.;
to know Christ as our Lord, John xx. 28 ; to Imow God so as to be accepted
by him, and to know Christ so as to be ' found in him,' PbiUp. iii. 8, 9 ; to
know God not only as a pardoning God in his nature, but a pardoning God
to our souls (such a knowledge God promiseth, Jer. xxxi. 34, ' They shall all
know me, from the least of them unto the greatest : for I will forgive their
iniquity'), as also a knowledge of him as our Saviour and Redeemer, Isa.
Ix. 16. That is a happy knowledge, when we can say with Paul, ' Christ,
who loved me, and gave himself for me,' Gal. ii. 20, when we can feel Christ
dwelling in us by faith, ' the hope of glory,' Col. i. 27. A speculative
knowledge is contemplation, this is fruition ; that elevates us in admiration,
this springs up in affection ; that is like the knowledge of a picture, where
the features ofthe person are commended by strangers to them, this like the
knowledge of the friend, whose picture it is, and the remembrance of the
sweetness of his disposition, his cordial affections, &c.,) which possesseth
the soul with a more sensible delight than others can take in the comeliness
of the piece.
These four sorts of knowledge are not equally necessary. The speciilative
is necessary as & foundation ; practical, essentially vecessary ; experimental
and interested, necessary to the comfort of knowledge. The two first are neces
sary to the being of a Christian ; the two latter, to the well-being. The
two first together, constitute our happiness ; the two latter sweeten our im
perfect happiness in this world. Indeed, experimental knowledge and inte
rested are necessary in regard of the matter of the knowledge, though not in
regard of the actual sense and knowledge. We cannot have any initial
happiness, without the influence of God's grace, without a share in his
favour ; but both these may be without the actual sense and perception of
them. Speculative, is knowledge received ; practical, knowledge expressed ;
experimental, the rehsh of it ; and interested, the foretaste of happiness. A
speculative knowledge is like that of the queen of Sheba's, at a distance ;
an experimental is like her sight of the order and glory of Solomon's court,'
that left no more spirit in her.

John XVII. 3.] the knowledge of god. 23
II. This knowledge of God is necessary. Religion and true grace is called
wisdom, in the Proverbs. Wisdom is the knowledge of the highest things.
No wisdom without the knowledge of truth, therefore no wisdom without the
knowledge of God, the prime truth, the chiefest good, whence all truth and
goodness in other things flow. This is the portal.'* No happiness can be
without truth and goodness ; all religion consists of them, all felicity is com
posed of them : truth to be known, goodness to be embraced, by the crea
ture, else no communication of happiness to it. Knowledge and love fit us
for acquaintance with, and enjoyment of, God. We actually embrace him
by love, after we perceive, him fit for our embraces by knowledge. Know
ledge imprints the simihtude and idea of the object upon the understanding ;
love draws out the soul to close with the object so understood. By knowledge,
God conveys himself in his glorious perfections to our view ; by love, we give
up ourselves to him. By knowledge, we see God ; by love, we enjoy him. By
, knowledge, we see what is enjoyable, and worthy our affection and fruition ;
by love, we enjoy what we see. Still, remember that this is not to be under
stood of a common knowledge of God, where the gospel is preached ; it is
such a knowledge which is given by Christ to those he hath a charge of; it
is such a knowledge that is not only the effect of Christ's universal power
over all flesh (for so the general preaching of the gospel is, whereby men
attain a common knowledge) ; but such a knowledge as those only have who
are ' sanctified by faith,' Acts xxvi. 18. He had ' power over all flesh, that
he should give eternal life,' i. e. he had power to propagate the gospel among
the Gentiles, that the knowledge of God might be given to those that had
been given him by his Father ; whereby it is manifest that it is a knowledge
different from the common knowledge of the gospel.
1. This was the subject-matter of the ancient gospel promises. This God
promised in the evangelical dispensation, when he would manifest himself in
the riches of his glory, and .treasures of his goodness to his creatures : Isa.
xlix. 23, ' Thou shalt know that I am the Lord ;' and the chief happiness of
the church in the confluence of the Gentiles to her, as the foundation of all
religion, is his manifestation to them, and their clear view of that manifesta
tion : Isa. xix. 21, ' And the Lord shall be known to Egypt, and the Egyp
tians shall know the Lord in that day.' It is the peculiar' of the gospel :
Hos. vi. 3, ' Then shall we know the Lord.' When the knowledge of God
shall be spread over the world by the great prophet, in the teachings of his
Spirit, then should men have an ardent zeal to increase in the knowledge of
God ; and in this knowledge our spiritual life consists. We shall hve in his
sight. How ? By the knowledge of the Lord. By the knowledge of God
in this life, men have foretastes of the life to come. It is by the knowledge
of God in Christ that we see the sword of justice sheathed, which guarded
heaven against us, the bowels of mercy enlarged to open heaven for us.
It discovers God calmed and appeased, gives us delightful views of him, and
a secure and' complete happiness.
2. There is no way of conveying happiness can be conceived without this.
Our ignorance must be removed, whereby we may understand God, as well
as our perversity, whereby we may seek him. All sui begins in folly, igno
rance, and forgetfulness of God : Ps. xiv. 2, ' None that did understand and
seek God.' First, ' The fool hath said in his heart, there is no God.' From
that ignorance sprung up corruption and abominable works. What the
psalmist speaks of one, ver. 1, he speaks of all, ver. 2, 3, ' They are all gone
aside,' and the not understanding of God was the root of it, Rom. m. 11.
*. Nulla res, qualismnque est, intelligi potest, nisi Deus pri-us intelligatar, is a maxim
in ths schools.

2 4 chabnock's woeks. [John XVII. 3.
The root of our misery must be removed, to plant that of our happiness. G t d
hath ordered knowledge to be the first step to salvation, so that none tie
saved that come not in by the way of the knowledge of God revealed m 11 e
gospel : 1 Tim. ii. 4, ' Who will have all men to be saved, and to come unto
the knowledge of the truth.' The gospel being nothing else but a manifesta
tion of God in Christ, a knowledge of this precedes the application of salva^
tion. As the sun doth not make his heat to be known but by his beams,
so God doth not save according to his ordinary dispensation, but by the^
knowledge of himself, though the discovery of himself, in divers ages, hath
been various and by degrees. As the light at the dawn is more obscure than
that which is near the approach of the sun to the horizon, so there was a
more obscure knowledge of God, and the Redeemer, at the time of the first
promise. Adam might not know well what to think of God when he saw
himself expelled paradise, just after a gracious promise of a dehverer. It
was somewhat brighter at the giving the law, when God would give man
some dark shadows and pictures of Christ, and when himself would be known
by his name Jehovah, and the conduct of his angel. It was clearer, in the
times of the prophets, when the chariot of the Sun of righteousness was
approaching to the worid, and the light broke out before him ; but a more
glorious discovery, when this Sun did arise and appear in the earth ; yet,
from first to last, every dispensation was made up of some discovery of God,
the manifestation of his name, the declarations and representations of the
Messiah. The knowledge of God and the Redeemer, being the design of God
in every age of the world, is no less necessary now than it was then ; and,
indeed, the knowledge of no other thing can confer a blessedness upon us.
Whatsoever makes another happy, must be greater and better than that which
is made happy ; but, since nothing in the world is better than the soul of
man, all the knowledge of inferior things cannot constitute him blessed. The
knowledge of God and Christ can only fill the insatiable mind, satisfy the
vast desires, and settle the staggering soul.
3. The happiness of God consists in the knowledge of himself, his own
perfections, and delight in them. God is the object of his own happiness. f
The knowledge of God himself is the felicity of God. No being is really
happy without reflection upon, and knowledge of, that happiness. If God
should be happy by the knowledge of anything else but himself, that which
he did contemplate and know would be greater and better than God, because
his happiness would depend upon it. Felicity can never be in anything
inferior. God hath nothing higher and better than himself to contemplate.
This gave him a satisfaction before the world was, and this would still be his
blessedness, if all things should be reduced to the depths of nothing. Since,
therefore,- he created the world, to communicate himself and his own happi
ness to the rational creature, felicity cannot be attained by anything less than
the knowledge of the supreme good according to the creature's measures.
The angels themselves are only blessed in the contemplation of him, and
affection to him. In being encompassed with his bright rays, and ha-ving
their affections inflamed by him, Mat. xviii. 10, ' they behold the face of
God.' As God's knowledge and fruition of himself makes up his felicity, so
the knowledge and fruition of God composeth our happiness.
4. The happiness of heaven, which is the ultimate and complete happiness
of the soul, consists in a knowledge of God. The sight of God is made by
onr Saviour the reward of purity of heart : Mat. v. 8, ' The pure in heart
shall see God ;' and to see him as he is, in the glory of the other world,
* Amyraut de FEvangile, pp. 148, 149.
t Eugul-in. de perenni Philos. lib, iv. cap, 13.

John XVII. 3.J the knowledge of god. 25
1 John iii, 2, 3, when all the rational faculties shall be satisfied with light,
and the desires replenished with love. The privation of this knowledge is
hell ; the punishment consists in a banishment ' from the presence of the
Lord,' 2 Thess. i. 9. If felicity, in the highest region, consists in a sight
and knowledge of God, the happiness of the soul must consist in the same,
according to the imperfect degrees. If a perfect happiness cannot be without
a perfect knowledge, imperfect cannot be without a partial knowledge. When
we are acquainted with him, we are not only at peace, but we can delight
ourselves in the Almighty, and lift up our faces unto God, Job xxii. 21, 26.
Knowledge of God here is the dawn of heaven ; knowledge hereafter, the
meridian of it.
5. This is that the devil endeavours most to hinder. He is the enemy of
man's happiness ; he envies man a better state than himself hath ; his time
is spent in barring the door against it. The course he takes is to bemist the
understanding faculty, ' that the light of the gospel of Christ might not shine
into it,' 2 Cor. iv. 4. He put our first parents upon the knowledge of other
things to deprive them of the knowledge of God. He is always pecking at
this seed of knowledge. If he cannot kill it, he will sow some cockle to
choke it. All errors in the mind have the devil's blessing, and knowledge
his curse. His kingdom is a kingdom of darkness. Light is an enemy to
his dominion, and he to light. When the knowledge of God breaks in upon
the heart, the devil falls like lightning from heaven, as well as at the preach
ing of the gospel by the disciples, Luke x. 18. It expels his, and introduceth
another empire. This is our happiness, which is the devil's grief. That
must be necessary for us, which God's and our great enemy took all the pains
to stifle.
III. In what respects is this knowledge of God necessary ? We owe
duty to God as we are creatures ; we are unable to perform it as we are
guilty offenders. We must know God to know our duty ; we must know
Christ to know the' way of performing it ; we must know God, therefore, in
the perfections of his nature, and Christ in the sufficiency of his mediation.
We must know God in his ravishing goodness, his affrighting justice, his
condescending mercy, his adorable wisdom, his unshaken veracity ; we must
know him as offended by sin, as pacified by Christ. Without the one, we
shall not be humbled ; without the other, we shall not approach to him. We
must know him in his precepts, else how can we obey him ? in his promises,
else how can we trust him ? We must know Christ in his offices, as an
atoning priest, as an instructing prophet, a protecting and governing king.
We must know him in his transaction with his Father, descent to the world,
his return to heaven, in his humiliation on earth, exaltation in heaven ;
we must know him upon the cross and upon the throne, and the ends of
both his states : Phihp. iii. 10, ' Know him, and the power of his resurrection,
and the fellowship of his sufferings.' How else can we be ' conformed to his
death,' or have confidence in his life ? We must know him in his nature,
without which we cannot have a knowledge either of the truth or efficacy of
his satisfaction. The truth of it depended upon the reality ofhis humanity ;
the efficacy upon the strength of his divinity. Without this knowledge, how
can we believe in him ? how can we love him ? how can we perform those
acts which are necessary to our salvation ? This is a knowledge above the
> knowledge of nature ; that is too muddy to be a spring of any spiritual
action, raised love or hearty reliance. It is not a knowledge of God by
rational deductions, but spiritual illuminations. The knowledge of God in
the creatures is as the dawn ; the knowledge of God in the Scripture is as

26 chabnock's woeks. [John XVII. 3.
the day-spring. But what is either dawn or day-spring to a blind eye ?
The day-spring may be in the world, yet not in our hearts ; we cannot work
without light, and though there be the greatest light, we cannot work without
sight. That which is precedent to eternal life cannot be without the knowledge
of God.
1. Without it there can be no motion towards God, or for God. Without
a natural knowledge of God we can never think of him, or have any natural
motions to him ; without a spiritual knowledge, we cannot perform any
spiritual action. Without knowledge, we cannot act as rational creatures,
because all actions tend to rest. No creature acts for that end that it ma,y
always act, but acts for some end wherein it may acquiesce. That which is
our proper rest must be known, we can never else order our motions to it.
Everything that hath rational or sensitive life must have some kind of know
ledge, to act suitable to its station in the world, and the nature it is endowed
with. A beast cannot live without some knowledge, by natural instinct,
of the proper food for the maintaining the hfe of it ; a man cannot act
rationally, though he have the shape and life of a man, without a habit of
first principles which is by nature put into him. So neither can a man act
spiritually without truth put into the heart by grace, as an indwelling and
abiding habit, a truth known, and a truth dwelling in us and abiding with
us for ever, 2 John ver. 2. There are the ' first principles of the oracles of
God,' and of 'the doctrine of Christ' to be known, Heb. v, 12, vi. 1,
before we can go on to a spiritual perfection ; answering in a spiritual
creature to those first principles, which are in every man by nature, without
which he cannot act as a rational creature. The apostle implies the neces
sity of those principles, while he blames them for sticking there without
making a further progress. As knowledge is necessary to the being of any
action, so a various kind of knowledge is necessary to the various kinds of
actions. Natural knowledge is necessary to natural actions, moral know
ledge to moral actions ; so supernatural knowledg^ is necessary to super
natural actions. As the acts are, so must the knowledge be ; supernatural
acts cannot flow from an understanding stuffed only with natural principles,
no more than rational acts can be the products •~of a brutish fancy and
instinct ; that is, as a beast cannot act rationally unless he had the reason
of a man, so a man cannot act spiritually unless he hath the understanding
of a Christian, an understanding given whereby to ' know him that is true,'
who ought to be the proper centre of aU our actions, 1 John v. 20. The
whole body is dark if the eye be so. Mat. vi. 22, 23 ; the whole body of a
man's acts are acts of darkness if the mind be blind. As the mind is, so the
nature is ; corruption of nature began in wrong notions received in the mind,
whence those actions sprung whioh laid Adam and his posterity as low as
hell without the grace of God. There must be then other notions in the
mind, and other principles in the heart, before we can be fit for recovery
out of natural misery. While the eye of the soul remains muddy, all our
perceptions will , be tinctured with that corruption ; a suffusion in the eye
will cause a confusion in the acts ; what the eye is to the body, that is the
understanding to the soul. The truth was in Jesus, it must be in us as it
was in him; not as a loose notion, which would have engendered staggering
motions in the service of God and work of his mediation, but as a rooted
habit, a lawjn his heart, established as firm in his heart as it was in the
sanction. Since, therefore, all our actions towards God are to be both a
reasonable and a spiritual service, there must be a reasonable and a spiritual
knowledge as the foundation, to raise up action as the building.

John XVII. 3.] the knowledge of god. 27
(1.) There can be no worship of God without it. Since God made us
for his own glory, that we might do those things whereby he might be hon
oured, we must know the excellency of his nature, and what is suitable to
him. It is impossible to glorify him whose honour and greatness we
are wholly ignorant of, Ps. cxix. 25. David was God's servant, had a
desire to serve him, and therefore desires God to ' give him understand
ing, that he might know his testimonies.' Worship is the fruit of knowledge.
God promises to be known of the Egyptians in the time of the gospel, and
then they should do sacrifice and oblation, Isa. xix. 21. The Egyptians
knew there was a God, a supreme God, but they never worshipped him till
they eame to know him in the gospel revelation. ' In that day ' he would
be known to them. In what day ? In the day when they should speak
the language of Canaan, ver. 18 ; in the day when he should send them a
Saviour, ver. 20. There is no worship acceptable to God without the know
ledge of Christ, and access by him. Daniel opened his window, and prayed
to God ' towards the temple,' a type of Christ. He that comes to God
must not only know that he is, but he must know that he is a rewarder,
Heb. xi. 6, not by a natural knowledge, for so the heathens both knew the
being of God and the bounty of God, but a distinct knowledge of God as a
rewarder and accepter in Christ; for that the apostle means when, in describ
ing this way of worship, and giving examples of it, he gives instances of the
faith of the worshippers and their respecting God in Christ.
[1.] Without this knowledge of God we should never worship him in a
right manner. We must know that he is, before we can direct any religious
act to him ; so we must know what he is, before we can direct any rehgious
act to him in a right manner. If we would worship him out of love, we
must know that he is amiable ; if with fear, -we must know that he is power
ful and just. Whatsoever the principle of the worship is, it must have
knowledge for the foundation. Without a knowledge, we cannot affect him;
without a strong knowledge, we cannot love him ardently. If our love be
low, our worship will be slight, and want,,that affection which is a necessary
ingredient in it. According to the weakness of our knowledge is the slight-
ness of all our acts towards God. When we understand not his justice, we
shall presume upon him ; when we are ignorant of his glorious majesty, we
shall be rude with him ; unless we understand his holiness, we shall leap
out of sin to duty ; and the steams of our lusts will be as nimble as the
desires of our souls. If we are ignorant of his excellency, we shall want
humility before him ; if we have not a deep sense of his omnisciency, we
shall be careless in his presence, full of roving thoughts, guilty of vain
babbling, as if he wanted information, Mat. vi. 6, 7. Ignorance renders a
worship false, as well as a zeal erroneous, Rom. x. 2. If we worship God
from custom, and not from knowledge of him, we render him no better a
worship than we should render to the impostor Mahomet, if his religion were
the religion of our country.
[2.] We should be apt to worship some falsity and fancy instead of God.
Such an one that knows not God would be as easily induced to worship some
angel or saint in a glorious apparition, as a man that comes to court to see
the king, and knew him not, might be apt to imagine that some person of
quality he saw richly dressed, and bravely attended, might be the prince.
The heathens, having not the knowledge of God, stamped every great bene
factor a deity, and adored every one that was highly useful to their country
as a god. Without a knowledge of him, we shall be apt to seize upon any
thing from which we find assistance as a god ; and, like some -heathens,
worship the first thing we meet in a morning. If we know not God, yet

28 chabnock's woeks. [John XVII. 3.
since we have naturally a notion that there is a God, we shall be apt to have
false conceptions and misrepresentations of him. To worship what we
misconceive, is not to worship the true God, but a god coined and moulded
by our own fancy ; and since false conceptions of God are degradmgs
and disparagements to him, all worship guided by them is a worship of that
notion and image we have set up in our mind, and not a worship ol the true
God. It is at best a worship like that of the Athenian idolaters, a worship
of an ' unknown God,' Acts xvii. 23 ; they knewnot who he was, and they knew
not why they worshipped him. Certainly, as worship is a flower in the crown
ofthe Deity, so a worship of him according to his infinite perfections is a debt
we are bound to pay, and therefore bound to know him, that we may give him
his due; otherwise we shall worship, not a Scripture God, but a fancy god, a
god made up by the capricios of our own brains, and modelled according to
our own genius. It is an observable and difficult place, Amos v. 25, ' Have
you offered to me sacrifices and offerings in the wilderness forty years, 0
house of Israel ? ' Did they not offer sacrifices to God ? The worship of
Moloch was entertained in the following ages. God denies that they wor
shipped him all that forty years. What if we.should conjecture this as the
reason, because all the while they~ had notions of God according to the
Egyptian idols ? The adoring the calf was but an imitation of the Egyptian
wor.ship; while they had a false notion of God, likening him to the Egyptian
Apis, all the worship they performed to the true God being tainted with this
notion and conceit, was not a worship of God. ' Did you offer to me,' when
you had such ridiculous and unworthy conceptions, that you could find out
nothing in the whole frame of nature as an image to represent me, but that
of a calf ? It was a sign what unworthy conceits of me did lodge, in your
minds, which rendered your worship unacceptable and displeasing to me ;
which conceits were not displaced from their heads by the breaking of the
idol. [3.] Such an ignorant worship is certainly idolatry. It is not only a
wrong object draws upon men the guilt of idolatry, but a right object wor
shipped in a wrong manner. When we worship him not suitably to his
perfections, or not according to his command, Lev. xvii. 3, 4, 7. God
commanded that an ox, or lamb, or goat, intended for sacrifice, should be
brought to the door of the tabernacle ; not killed in the camp, or out of it ;
if they did, he would count them guilty of blood, and, verse 7, esteems it
no more than as a sacrifice offered to devils. The tabernacle being a type
of Christ, Heb. ix. 11, this command signified, that whatsoever was offered
to God out of Christ was of no value to him ; as hateful as murder, and
esteemed by him as if it had been offered to devils.
Since, therefore, nature cannot represent God* in his brightest apparel
to us, we cannot worship God by all our natural knowledge of him ; for as
by nature we rather know what God is not than what he is, so by nature we
may rather tell what worship is not worthy of him than what is. We can
not then worship God without the knowledge of him. We cannot know him
in Christ, by all the strength of nature, without divine revelation ; and in
deed it was a natural notion among the heathens, not to receive a form of
worship but what had a stamp of a divine authority ; therefore all those
lawgivers who settled any religion among them, pretended an intimate
acquaintance with some of their esteemed deities, to make their form of
worship entertainable. There is a necessity, therefore, of the knowledge of
God, and of Christ, to present a worship to Gud acceptable to him.
(2.) No obedience to God, without the knowledge of him. The will of
* Morns, verit. Relig. Christian, cap. 20, pp, 388, 390, 391.

John XVII. 3.] the knowledge op god. 29
God is the rule of obedience, and Christ is the pattern of obedience. Obedi
ence to God is an imitation of God in righteousness and holiness ; we must
therefore know the perfections of God, which we are to imitate, as well as
the law of God, according to which we are to regulate our actions. Obe
dience therefore is described * to be nothing else but knowledge digested into
will, affections, and practice. The motion of the will cannot be regular
without a touch of the understanding. If the spring of the will's motion be
from the affections and appetite only, it is an erroneous motion in regard of
the order of nature, though to a right object. Now, where there is a defect
in the first concoction, there will be a defect in the second and third : defect
in knowledge will cause an error in practice. Alienation from God's life,
i. e. from an imitation of his life, as well as animation by a hving principle
contrary to him, is rooted in the ' blindness of the heart,' Eph. iv. 18 ; and
the reason men take steps from one sin to another, and are fruitful in ini
quity, is because they know not the Lord, Jer. ix. 3. When men are
ignorant of the true God, they will not want Pharaoh's apology for their
sin : ' Who is the Lord, that I should obey his voice to let Israel go ?'
Exod. V. 2. The whole mass of vice in the world ariseth from the false
ideas of God, whom men shape according to their depraved fancies ; as the ,
Ethiopians paint the image of their gods black, according to their own dark
colour. Hence men receive encouragements to all kinds of vice, when they
think God such an one as themselves. There is no truth nor mercy among
the ten tribes, because there Was ' no knowledge of God in the land,' Hos.
iv. 1, 2. Had they known the nature of God, they could not have sinned
at such a rate, as if they had passed beyond the limits and censure of any
law. All obedience ariseth from knowledge. As error in knowledge was the
first deformity of man, and the cause of all the rest, so the knowledge of
God is the first line the Spirit draws upon the soul, whence, as from the first
matter, all those beautiful graces that appear in every region of the soul are
formed. Every action of obedience, as it must be quickened with grace, so
it must be informed with knowledge. Holiness must be a holiness of truth,
springing up as a branch from truth as a root, Eph. iv. 24. True holiness,
or in the Greek, ' holiness of truth.' As all rebellion against God steams
up from a false conception of him, so goodness and holiness break out of the
womb of a sound notion of him. The mind is first renewed ere the ' new
man is created in righteousness,' Eph. iv. 23, 24. The apostle renders it
impossible for a man to know God and willingly break his commands, and
gives such a pretender to divine knowledge no better term than that of a
Uar : 1 John ii. 4, ' He that saith I know him, and keeps not his commands,
is a liar, and the truth is not in him ;' he hath not a grain of a divine habit
of truth resident in his heart. ' Know thou the God of thy fathers, and
serve bim with a perfect heart,' is David's directory to Solomon, 1 Chron.
xxviii. 9. No service without knowledge, no sincere service without a
spiritual knowledge of God in covenant. As ignorance of God is the cause
of sin, so the knowledge and sense of him is the best antidote against it.
Men cannot sin freely under an acquaintance with infinite fury. The com
mon knowledge of God and Christ brings forth some fruits of a sort of
obedience in men, and cleanseth them from the common and barefaced pol
lutions of the world ; the common knowledge of God hinders many wicked
men from hurting in his holy mountain. What more glorious fruits than
bare appearances would the spiritual knowledge of God and Christ produce
and ripen in the world ! 2 Pet. ii. 20. If we know him in the glory of his
* Sibbes's Bruised Beed, p. 241.

30 chabnock's woeks. [John XVII. 3.
grace, in the amiableness of his nature, what a choice delight should we have
in our approaches to him, and our actions for him ! The more clearly he
is understood, the more he is beloved ; and the more he is beloved, the more
readily he is obeyed. The angels that behold his face run most cheerfully
to perform his errands, Ps. ciii. 20 ; and no doubt but the perfect illumina
tion of the glorified souls is a partial cause of the steadiness of their wills.
Whatsoever looks hke obedience, and is not informed by knowledge, is no
more an act of true obedience than the action of a man in his sleep can be
called a human action, since it is no product of his reason, but a start of
his volatile fancy. Paul's questions were orderly when he was charged by
Christ, first, ' Who art thou ? ' then, ' What wilt thou have me to do ? '
Let me know whom I am to obey.
(3.) No grace can be without the knowledge of God. Some knowledge
of God may be without grace. The devils are as much filled with one as they
are empty of the other. But it is not conceivable how grace can be without
knowledge. The knowledge of God in the text may be called eternal life,
because all graces, which are the seed of eternal life, grow up from that as a
root. In the change of the soul there is an act of -vision before an act of
transfiguration ; the removing the veil before the turning the heart, 1 Cor.
iii. 16. The eye is opened, light darts upon the understanding, and thence
beams upon the will. The glory of God is beheld before the frame of the
heart is changed, 1 Cor. iii. 18. The whole work of grace is therefore called
' light,' as the whole state of nature is called ' darkness,'- 1 Peter ii. 9 ; as
the understanding is the leading faculty, so knowledge, the privilege of the
mind, is the directing principle that leads, and the will follows : the enlight-
enings of the one make men immediately capable of the quickenings of the
other. As the common knowledge of God makes men capable of sin, which
a beast, because of the want of understanding, is not, so the special know
ledge of God in Christ puts men in a capacity for grace. The philosopher
determines that moral virtues cannot be without intellectual. All divine
motions in the soul are regular : every wheel in the watch moves in due
order ; the faculties are not jumbled together ; the understanding commands,
and the will obeys. Light first discovers, and will embraceth. The new
creation,* as well as the old, begins with &fiat lux, whence all the creatures
were to derive their beauty, and are more excellent and serviceable as they
are endued with a more sparkling light. The knowledge of God and Christ
is the chief ingredient which makes the composition of the inner man. As
without hght there could not be a visible world, so without this there cannot
be a spiritual. As the common engrafted notions of God, left in men's
hearts by nature, are the root from which common moral virtues grow, so
the spiritual knowledge of God in the gospel is the root from whence divine
graces branch themselves. No form without matter, no grace without know
ledge of God. No active principle can be without an object ; God is the
object of grace. Whence the new creation of a man is called a ' translation
from darkness,' Col. i. 13, and renewed men are called ' light in the Lord '
Eph. V. 8 ; when the mind, which was stuffed with base and unworthy
opinions of God, is made by the Spirit the candle of the Lord, spreading its
light through the whole man. AU those things which ' pertain to godli
ness,' whereof grace is not the meanest, are ' given through the knowledge
of him,' 2 Peter i. 2, 3. This knowledge of God and Christ, shining upon
the heart of a natural moral man, makes his moral virtues to commence
spiritual graces ; as the more generous and commendable acts of a beast
would cease to be brutish actions, and become human, if he had a rational
* Vines" Impostures.

John XVII. 3.] the knowledge op god. 31
understanding infused into him. Without the knowledge of God's justice,
we shall not fear him ; without knowledge of his ability and fidelity, we shall
not trust him. Without knowledge of his goodness we shall not seek to him,
and without a knowledge of his majesty we shall not humble ourselves before
, him. So that, without the knowledge of God, there will be no grace in the
principle or habit.
As to instance in particular graces.
[1.] Faith cannot be without the knowledge of God and Christ. Without
the knowledge of God, we know not the ultimate object of faith; without the
knowledge of Christ, we know not the immediate object of faith and tbe way
to come to God. This grace therefore is set in a double seat by divines, in
the understanding and will; it is properly a consent of the will, which cannot
be without assent in the mind. Knowledge is antecedent to faith in order
of nature : 2 Tim. i. 12, ' I know whom I have believed ;' Isa. xliii. 10,
' That you may know and believe that I am he.' Who can read that doth
not know his letters ? who can believe that understands nothing of the per
fections of God or offices of Christ ? What image is in the inward sense
was first in the outward organ ; what 'fiducial frame there is in the -will w.ss
first ushered in by assent in the understanding: Heb. xi. 6, ' He that comes
to God must know that he is.' The knowledge of the bare existence of God
will not. bring the creature to him ; but the knowledge that he is a rewarder
will, because this knowledge includes an apprehension of some good in the
object known, and so hath a spirit of life in it to quicken the affections and
elevate the heart, which was before dead to any such motion. That know
ledge which acquaints a man with no good in the object known will never
excite any motion to it. No man can come to God, who is infinitely above
him, unless he knows him to be infinitely good and ready to receive him.
Who will apply himself to a prince or any other man for help, whom he
thinks to be severe, sour, tyrannical, one more like to scoff at his misery
than relieve him ? There is, therefore, a necessity of the knowledge of God
as a God of tender bowels, and therefore a necessity of the knowledge of
Christ, in whom only be discovers himself to be a gracious Father. The
spiritual knowledge of him in Christ is as an emission of virtue from the
loadstone, that draws the iron to cleave to it. We must know the goodness
the fountain, and his faithfulness the executor, of promises, and his power
that enables him to be as great and good as his word. We never reasonably
trust a man that we know not fit to be trusted : we cannot trust a God whom
we know not to be the highest goodness. Men by reason know that there is
a God, but it is so dim in the discovery of his perfections that it sees not
light enough to raise it up to any close act of a fiducial dependence on him.
The discovery of God in Christ in the heart sets the whole man a-crying out.
Soul, return to thy rest !
[2.] No desire for God -without it. The Israelites' stomachs were never
sharpened for Canaan, but wambling towards Egypt, till they tasted the
grapes ofthe country. The apprehension of God as true makes us adore
him ; the apprehension of God as good makes us desire him. The more
clearly we know his perfections, the more fervently we shall desire both to
enjoy him and imitate him. How soon will such knowledge bud in desires,
and blossom and flower in good affections ! ' If thou hadst known, thou
wouldst have asked,' John iv. 10 ; if thou hadst a clear knowledge, thou
wouldst have had an eager affection. The clearer the representations, the
more nimble the desires. Doubtful and wavering conceits of the goodness
cf a thing keep back the appetite from any motion. If we know not how
full a spring God is, and ready to emit his streams, how can we thirst ibr

32 chabnock's woeks. [John XVII. 3.
his boundless communications to us ? Where there hath been a relish there
will be an appetite, 1 Pet. ii. 3 ; desire of the word riseth from a taste that
the Lord is gracious. Knowledge of a thing always precedes our appetite to
it. A toad, not having the knowledge of its own venomous nature and the
excellency of other creatures, can never desire the being stripped of his own or
invested with the other. This desire after God springs not from a bare
speculation, but a strong impression, a spiritual taste ; for a bare speculation
hath no more strength to make a motion in the will than the poetical de
scriptions of far countries can persuade a potent prince to take a long voyage
for the conquest, or a merchant to venture his stock thither for a trade.
The more distinct and savoury our notions of God and his goodness are, the
more ardent flame will be in our wills. The more distinctly a man conceives
of the excellent relish and wholesomeness of this or that kind of meat, the
more will his appetite be invited to taste of it, especially if before he hath
sensibly enjoyed a satisfaction in it. And indeed, a strong appetite is a great
sign of a spiritual illumination. It is ignorance of God chokes any longing
for him, and makes us either not to desire the enjoyment of him, or beg for
it very faintly. Men that never put up a quick prayer to him, never had
any knowledge of God in them ; and when any of us pray faintly, our know
ledge of God is not actuated in us. Without some knowledge of God, men
will rather shake off all thoughts of him, all wishes for him, and no more
desire the fruition of him than a blind mole desires to see the light of the
sun. Their language is with those in Job, ' Depart from us,' not Come unto
us, Job xxi. 14. Where there is no knowledge, there can be no fruition ;
and where no desire of knowledge, there can be no desire of enjoyment.
[3.] No love to God without knowle(fge of him. Though a thing be made
up of delights, and hath an amiableness interwoven in every part, yet, if it
be not known, it cannot be affected. We cannot love God ' with all our
hearts,' with the affective part, till we first love him ' with all our minds,'
with our reason and intelligent part, Mark xii. 30. Love always supposeth
the knowledge of the beloved object, since it is nothing else but perfectum
judicium de bono amato. Good cannot allure the affections, unless it be
apprehended, and knowledge cannot inflame the affection unless the object
be imagined as good : both must concur to the exciting love. None can
pay a debt of love to anything till he knows it justly deserving and challeng
ing that love. No man in the world can be beloved by another till some
thing bs seen in him as lovely, either the wisdom of his head, the sweetness
of his nature, the beauty of his person, or the obligingness of his carriage.
How can we have any elevated affection to God, unless we understand the
amiableness of his nature, the infiniteness of his perfections, and the expres
sion of them for the good of mankind ? How can it be expected any can
have a heave of affection to Christ, who understands nothing of those trea
sures of knowledge, grace, and wisdom wherewith he is replenished, who
knows nothing spiritually and feehngly of the design of his coming, his low
condescension, his yearning compassion, his full goodness, and his sincere
affection ? Without it, we shall value God and Christ no more than a swine
doth a pearl, a child a learned book, or a prince a heap of rubbish, no more
than the Jews did the divinity of our Saviour hid in the weak casket of his
humanity. The beams must be united together in the burning-glass, and
shine directly upon the heart, before the affections will take fire. The daugh
ters of Jerusalem seemed to scorn him, and reproach the hot affections of the
spouse, as if unworthily placed, or too fond in their exercise, till a glimpse of
knowledge by her description quickened them with some heat of love, which
kindled in them desires of seeking him : Oaat. v. 9, ' What is thy beloved

John XVII. 3. J the knowledge of god. 33
more than another beloved, that thou dost bo charge us ?' whereupon she
begins a description ofhis beauty, and then. Cant. vi. 1, they desire to seek
him with her : so soon may a little spiritual knowledge of Christ dropped
into the heart turn a scoffer into an admirer. Had the Jews known Christ
to be the Lord of glory, they had never crucified him, 1 Cor. ii. 8 ; they had
turned adorers instead of murderers. The mind must be spiritually illu
minated to see God in an evangelical lustre ; it must be filled with astonish
ing and affecting notions, of God before the heart can have a valuation of
him, and a disesteem for the things of this world. The apostle indeed saith,
1 Peter i. 8, ' Whom having not seen you love,' but he doth not say, ' whom
having not known you love.' There is a knowledge of invisible things by
faith, which takes possession of the heart by the ear, and attracts the affec
tions. Ignorance of God must be removed before an affection to him will
take place, since it is not only a cause but a part of our enmity to him, Eph.
iv. 18. We may have the knowledge of a scholar without the love of a Chris
tian, but we cannot have a Christian love without a Christian knowledge and
savoury apprehension of God and Christ. Unless we know the nature of God,
we may love some false thing instead of God; and unless we know the nature
of Christ, the union of his two natures, and the fulness of grace, we can never
love him after a right manner.
[4.] Joy and delight in God. I mean that delight which is a duty, not
that which is only God's dispensation ; an active, not a passive, delight.
Who can delight in music that cannot hear it, or be pleased with the scent
of a rose that cannot smell it ? Who can delight in God that hath no sense
of the goodness of his nature, and the happiness of fruition ? Who can
delight in his ways, who doth not understand him as good and indulgent in
his precepts, as he is sweet and bountiful in his promises ? If we did know
him, we should be as easily drawn to rejoice in him, as by ignorance we are
induced to run from him. Such charms would be transmitted to our hearts
as would constrain a joy in them, in spite of all other delights in perishing
pleasures. Knowledge of God is a necessary preface to a spiritual joy in
him, Ps. civ. 34. First, by a sweetness tasted in meditation, and then a
delight in God, the object of it; and according to the apprehension we have
of the object, are the degrees of our delight in it. It is all one to a blind
man, be ho in a palace richly furnished, or a dungeon hung with cobwebs.
What pleasure can a man ignorant of God's nature and delightful perfections,
and that represents him through some mistaken glass, which imprints un
worthy notions of God in his mind, what pleasure can such a man take in
approaching to God, or what greater freedom can he have in coming to him,
than a malefactor in being brought before a judge ?
[5.] No repentance without the knowledge of God. The times of ignorance
and impenitence are one and the same, Acts xvii. 30. If there be no right
conception of the nature of God, there can be no sense of the evil of sin, and
the contrariety of our nature to him ;* but when the soul sees God and sees
itself, it will be filled with self-abhorrency. How can we bewail our offences
if we understand not the purity of his holiness, the severity of his justice,
the tenderness of his mercy, the irresistibleness of his power, and the in-
evitableness of his wrath ?
[6.] No fear of God without it. As the justice of God and his anger must
be apprehended before he can be feared slavishly, so the majesty of God and
his goodness must be understood before he can be feared filially. Who can
stand in awe of a majesty he is ignorant of ?t Men, not knowing God's
* Contraria juxta se posita magis illuoescunt. t Barlow on Tim. par. i. p, 29.,
VOL. rv. c

34 chabnock's woeks. [John XVII. 3.
nature, have often presumed so much upon his mercy, that they have been
destroyed by his justice ; as some, through ignorance of the true quality of a
fruit, have found then: death where they expected then- pleasure. _
[7.] No true patience without it. Since true blessedness consists in the
spiritual and affectionate knowledge of God as the supreme good, no man
can be truly content under crosses, who doth not apprehend the goodness
and fulness of God and Christ. All patience not founded upon this bottom
is a brutish stupidity. The apostle lays the courage of the believing Hebrews
upon their gphitual illumination : Heb. x. 32, ' After you were illuminated,
you endured a great fight of afflictions.' When their light was great, their
patience was steady ; and they had not only a contentedness under sufferings,
but a joy in them, because they had an experimental sense and knowledge
of God as a rewarder, and had some sweet foretastes of the rich inheritance
he had provided for them : ver. 34, ' You took joyfully the spoiling of your
goods, knowing in yourselves that you have in heaven a better and more
enduring substance.' The feeling of Christ, and the tasting his sweetness,
is the best antidote against temptation. He that knows no richer sweetness
than is in the devil's baits, will easily be exposed to the danger of them.
Without this knowledge, the shght impressions on men will be like a few
heat drops, dried up by a scorching temptation almost as soon as they fall.
As none of these graces can be without the knowledge of God and
Christ, so
(2.) Without it there can be no acting of any grace. All grace is nothing
else but an imitation of God, a resemblance of God's perfections in the crea
ture, and the acting of it a representation of the lineaments of his divine
virtues : Eph. v. 1, ' Be ye followers of God, as dear children.' The copy
must be known before it can be imitated. It is a conformity to the image
of Christ, Rom. viii. 29. All grace is summed up in a conformity to God
and Christ ; for it is nothing but a restoration of the divine image, a re
implantation of that in the soul, which was defaced and lost by Adam. As
the seal leaves the whole print upon the wax, even the least point engraven
upon it, so doth God and Christ upon the heart. Every grace is a member
and part of the divine image, and answers in some proportion to some imit-
able perfection of God. If we know nothing of the lineaments of God, how
can we make a report of his excellency to the world in our actions ? How
can we express ourselves in any virtue, if we know not the prototype, the
first pattern ? The want of the knowledge of God made all the heathen
virtues trivial things, mere shadows ; the knowledge of God and Christ could
only tincture and dye them into divine graces. Humility proceeding from
some sordid humour or by-respects is not a grace, but when it springs from
a knowledge of the condescensions of God, or contrariety to God, or a know
ledge of the humility of Christ, it is then a grace.
How can we return lively affections to him, if we know not the emanations
of his love ? How should we be at a loss for hoUness if we understood
nothing of the holy nature of God, and his hatred to sin ? How would the
consideration of God's justice against sin help us in the exercise of our
justice, in the mortification of our affections to it ; and the knowledge of the
patience of God under affronts received by us make us patient and submis
sive under strokes infiicted by him ! It is this makes the Christian more
signal in gracious actions towards others. How readily would his love
break out to others in an imitation of God's love to man ! What a tender
and compassionate disposition would be manifested to men if there were an
actuated knowledge of God's mercy and compassion to us ! The considera
tion of God's veracity would render men faithful in promises ; the perfec-

John XVII. 3.] the knowledge of god. 35
tions of God, if more spiritually known, would bring forth more of those
pleasing fruits in the soul. It is impossible an act can be without an
object ; nothing is grace but as it is conversant about God, or hath a respect
to God. There can be no act about an unknown object. There can be no
form without matter, nor any acting of that form but in matter ; no grace
without knowledge, no acting of grace but in knowledge. The frame of
grace is raised upon the infused notions of God ; illumination precedes
renovation of the will. As the right motion of the will supposeth an en
lightened mind, so the acting of grace in the will implies a present and
actuated knowledge of the object about which it is conversant. There is no
faculty excited in any act but by some object ; that object is not entertained
at first in any power of the soul, but in the understanding, that first pro
pounds the object as worthy and suitable to be followed by the other powers
of the soul, whose office it is to act. All impressions upon the lower facul
ties are made by the highest, as all motions depend upon the highest sphere
in the heavens. There must therefore be a distinct knowledge of God.
God abstracted from his perfections, his power, holiness, faithfulness, love,
is not the object about which any grace can be conversant, but God as
revealing himself, clothed with such excellency as suit and answer the crea
ture's necessities. If I act faith, I must conceive of his power to relieve
me ; if I act faith upon his promise, I must conceive of his faithfulness and
truth to make good his word. We cannot work without light, nor act grace
without the knowledge of God and Christ. If we must be ' perfect as God
is perfect,' we must know the perfection of the copy we are to follow. The
more knowledge we have of God, and of the nature, offices, and communi
cations of Christ, the more distinct are the actings of grace.
(3.) No growth in grace without it. As the degrees of our knowledge
are, so are the degrees of our grace : Rom. xv. 14, ' You are full of good
ness, filled with all knowledge.' ' Growth in grace' is promoted by 'the
knowledge of Jesus Christ,' 2 Peter iii. 18. The one is the root, the other
the branch ; the root may be without the branch, but the branch can never
grow without a root. As the root is strengthened, so are the branches ;
what is in the root is communicated to the branches. If love flames more
vehemently, it is by the addition of the fuel of knowledge : Philip, i. 9, ' That
your love may abound yet more and more in knowledge, and in all judg
ment.' Love, which is a grace that adorns us in the world, and is a part
of the glory of heaven, burns hotter as our knowledge is clearer. A firm
and stable knowledge is as necessary to the increase of love as to the being
of love ; 'Emyi/wff/s signifies a clear knowledge. Fruitfulness in every good
work depends upon the increase of the knowledge of God, as the fruit of the
ground upon the dew of heaven : Col. i. 10, ' Being fruitful in every good
work, and increasing in the knowledge of God.' The strength of grace is
promoted by the increase of knowledge : ' A man of knowledge increaseth
strength,' Prov. xxiv. 5. The strengthening the foundation is a strengthen
ing the building. All graces depend upon the increase of faith, and faith is
the firmer by an increase of knowledge. 'The path of the just,' or his walk
in the ways of God, is expressed by a ' shining' or growing ' light,' Prov.
iv. 18. As there was more truth, so there was more grace by Christ than
by Moses, John i. 17. As there was but obscure truth under the law, so
there was but weak grace ; when truth shone, grace flourished ; as the plants
renew their strength with the spring's sun. The law made no such dis
coveries of God as were revealed by Christ. The eommunieation of the
greatest knowledge of God was reserved for the honour of the groat Prophet,
and the full effusion of grace was reserved for the honour of Lis royalty.

86 chabnock's woeks. [John XVII. 3.
All the declarations by the law could not give so much knowledge of truth
as the gospel, and therefore make no such impression of grace upon the
soul. Truth and grace go hand in hand together, and spur on one another.
Truth excites grace, and grace spurs on to the inquiry after truth. Christ
himself had not been full of grace unless he had been fullof truth, thoroughly
acquainted with the nature of God and mysteries of his will : John i. 14,
' full of grace and truth.' It is the fulness of his human nature, for he
speaks of the Word as made flesh and dwelling among us. And accordingly,
when he prays for the increase of the disciples' graces, and their progressive
sanctification, he prescribes the means : John xvii. 17, ' Sanctify them through
thy truth ; thy word is truth.' The word is nothing else but a discovery of
God, which affords motives to holiness, and can strengthen the soul against
all the invasions of the devil, that envies grace, and endeavours to rifle it.
A spiritual knowledge of God would spring up in delightful thoughts of him,
and those would be as a refreshing influence to all the graces of the new
man. (4.) No continuance in grace without it. True grace cannot be totally
lost, but it may miserably decay. True grace will decay, and pretended
grace will quite wither without it. As it is impossible any man can close
with God in Christ without a knowledge of him, so it is as impossible that he
can persist in that state without the continuance of that knowledge. Know
ledge of God is part of the ' anointing of the Spirit, which teacheth the be
liever all things,' 1 John ii. 27. Grace is the divine lamp in the soul, which
lives and burns by the oil of the Spirit's teaching ; a lamp will out without
oil to feed it, and grace will burn dim without knowledge to supply it. The
apostle owns the knowledge of Christ to be the anchor that keeps us from
being tossed to and fro like children, Eph. iv. 13, 14. Ignorance is the
mother of inconstancy in the ways of God ; the unlearned and unstable go by
couples, 2 Peter iii. l6. Where there is no knowledge of God to ballast,
there is no security against the force of winds and waves. Those that are
unlearned in heavenly wisdom will be unstable in heavenly ways. The want
of root made the temporaries wither : unless we know God, we cannot/oZZow
on to know him, Hosea vi. 3. It is as natural for a saving knowledge ot
God to press on farther as it is for a counterfeit knowledge to draw back.
But an experimental sense will preserve the soul from apostasy : John iv. 14,
' Whosoever shall drink of the water that I shall give him shall never thirst,'
i. e. he shall never thirst for anything else ; for this he cannot but thirst,
till he comes to a full fountain. It is not a savoury knowledge of Christ if
it be not attended with a thirst for more. Where there is only a sensitive,
carnal apprehension of God and his truth, there may be some resolutions,
some pangs, but the fit will quickly cease. The silly conceit of a bread and
water from heaven, that should satisfy their hunger and quench their thirst,
which might free them from toil and sweat in the world, made some Jews
with lively affections cry out, John vi. 34, ' Evermore give us this bread.'
Christ by bread meant himself, and by eating he meant faith ; they under
stood it of earthly bread, and had their affections accordingly ; but when
they understood the truth of the case they ' turned their backs upon him,'
ver. 66. How soon were their affections extinguished, which had nothing
but a carnal apprehension for a foundation ! It is a ' full assurance of
understanding to the acknowledgment of the mystery of God the Father, and
of Christ,' that preserves a soul from seduction by enticing words, Col. ii. 2 4
3. No comfort can be without the .knowledge of God and Christ. Peace
as well as grace is multiplied by this, 2 Peter i. 2. Acquaintance with God
is the channel through which the blessings of peace flow into our souls. Job

John XVII. 3.J the knowledge op god. 37
xxii. 21, 22, &o. All joy in or from God presupposeth a knowledge of him,
for spiritual joy is seated in the mind, not in the sensitive part of the soul.
All the pleasure that rational creatures have is by an act of their understand
ing. The light of knowledge begets the light of joy and peace in the heart,
as the light in the body of the sun begets the light and shine in the air. The
assurance of understanding doth arise from the ' acknowledgment of the
mystery of God the Father, and of Christ,' Col. ii. 2 ; because the know
ledge of those is a means to beget assurance. In the light of God we enjoy
the light of comfort : Ps. xxxvi. 9, ' In thy light we shall see light. There
may be a knowledge of God, and a terror with it. The devils' knowledge
renders them less at ease in themselves than an ignorance would ; though
their knowledge of God be greater than others', yet it is more distasteful to
them ; they have only a knowledge of God in his justice to terrify them, but
no hopes of his mercy to pacify their troubles. Yet without it we can no
more have any fruition of God, than a man whose senses are bound np with
sleep can rejoice in the presence of beautiful pictures. As the operations of
the will depend upon the touch of the understanding, so the comforts of the
soul depend upon the clearness of the understanding contemplating the
object. The best good, though never so near us, cannot be comfortable to
us while we are under the darkness of ignorance ; nor can there be any com
fort without the knowledge of Christ. There was in Adam no necessity of
the knowledge of Christ, because there was no necessity of his knowledge of
a mediator in his innocent estate. He knew (>od in his nature, and in his
personal relations, and his works of creation ; but what a misery are we in
without the knowledge of Christ as well as God ! What pleasure can we
have in the apprehensions of an offended and injured God, unless we know
him in the methods of his reconciliation, which cannot be understood but by
the knowledge of Christ, because no atonement is made by any but him ?
The more any knows of God without Christ, the more he knows of a de
plorable contrariety to him. What spark of joy can he have unless he can
see a way of bringing God down to him, or of his ascent to God, unless God
would strip himself of his nature to converse with him, or he be unclothed
of his corruption to be fit to converse with God ? He sees terror as well as
sweetness, wrath as well as grace. The knowledge of Christ, as receiving
the darts of God's wrath upon himself, to reflect upon the soul the beams of
his grace, must step in before the thoughts of God can be comfortable any
more to us than to devils.
(1.) No comfort in this life. Without godliness there can be no rational
satisfaction, and sensitive comforts deserve not tbe name of a rational con
tentment. Godliness and contentment are coupled together by the apostle,
1 Tim. vi. 6. Godliness is nothing but the spiritual and practical know
ledge of the mysteries of God. Nothing can have any real comfort without
answering and attaining the end of its being. The end ot our creation was not
simply to enjoy the creature, cr satisfy our sense, but to glorify God, to ob
serve the prints of God's goodness, and return the praise to him. The
world was made for the manifestation of God's goodness ; ' the heavens de
clare the glory of God ' materially, man is to give God the glory of it form
ally ; without this, man hath not a pleasure suitable to the end of his crea
tion. What praise now, can any one render to God who knows not the
excellency stamped upon his works, knows not his glory and goodness mani
fested in redemption ? All praise of God without understanding is not
pleasant to the offerer, and a§ unwelcome to God as the f craping of a lute by
an ignorant hand is to a delicate ear. We are to ' praise God with under
standing,' Ps. xlvii. 7, i.e. with a knowledge of his nature, his works, his

88 chabnock's wobks. [John XVII. 3,
excellencies in him. We lose the comfort of our being by not answering the
end of our creation, and this we cannot do without a knowledge of God and
Christ, and so lose the pleasure of those raptures and ecstasies of joy, which
an observation and praise of God fills the soul with in secret. What rise
is there for this, if we are unacquainted with the matter and object of this
praise !
(2.) No pleasure and comfort to one ignorant of God, if he were admitted
into heaven. The happiness of heaven conbists in a clear knowledge of God,
and a pure affection to him. It is as impossible for a man remaining igno
rant of God to take any pleasure in him, were he admitted into the local heaven
where God displays his glory, as for a blind man placed upon a high tower
to relish a delight in the beautiful prospect, so long as he wants eyes to be
hold it. Such an one would want happiness in the midst of an ocean of it,
as a millstone in the midst of the sea wants moisture in the centre, because
of the thickness and harshness of its parts. He that takes no pleasure in
inquiring after God, and seeing him in the glass of the gospel, would take
as little or less in seeing him face to face. An unenlightened mind could have
as little delight in heaven, by reason of its ignorance, as an unrenewed will
could, by reason of its impurity. A swine that understands not the dehcacies
of a musical air would rather run away affrighted at a loud concert than
diligently listen, and take more satisfaction in a puddle or heap of garbish,
things suited to his sense and nature, than in those objects he hath no con
ception of.
IV. What are the properties of this knowledge of God and Christ, where
by it is distinguished from that knowledge, which is not saving and eternal
life. 1. Negatively.
(1.) It is not an immediate knowledge of God and Christ. As we are
acquainted with a man face to face when we see his person, and view his
features ; we have no such knowledge of angels, much less of God. Nay,
the things of the world which are visible to us are not known so much in
their formal nature as by their operations ; we do not immediately know the
sun so much as by his beams enhghtening the earth, and quickening and
refreshing the spirits of all creatures. It is more especially true of our
knovpledge of God, who is not known immediately in his nature, so much as
by his excellent works of creation, providence, redemption, and the revela
tion of invisible mysteries in his word. The invisible thipgs of God are
understood, not by immediate speculations about the nature of them, but by
the things that are made, Rom. i. 20.* Those things that are invisible in
God, and that cannot be known or seen with an immediate view, do shine
forth in his works, both in the first forming them and the constant preser
vation of them, wherein he discovers such marks of an infinite power and
unexpressible goodness, which is the glory of his Godhead, that if they were
represented in a glass they could not be more visible. He is encircled with
that ocean of light through which no mortal eye ever did pierce, or can ap
proach to : 1 Tim. vi. 16, ' He dweUs in light to which no man can
approach ; whom none hath seen, or can see.' It is used to express the
impossibility of an immediate knowledge of God. We see the created light
of the sun overpowers the eyes of our body ; how much more the glori
ous light of God the eyes of our souls, since he ' clothes himself with light
a^ with a garment!' Ps. civ. 2. As the sun, though it discovers other
things to us by its light, yet by reason of the greatnes's of its light hinders
* Amyraut. in loc.

John XVII. 3.] the knowledge of god. 39
us from an immediate sight of itself; so, though God discovers himself in
other things to us by his hght, yet it is too immense for us to have an im
mediate knowledge of God. In his appearance to the Israelites, he was
covered with a cloud, to shew the weakness of our understandings about
divine things ; and how easily is it dazzled at his ineffable brightness !
(2.) Nor is it a comprehensive knowledge. When the psalmist had
floods of precious thoughts of God in the day, the next morning he was as
far from finding him out to perfection as before : Ps. cxxxix. 17, 18, ' When
I awake, I am still with thee,' i. e. 1 am where I was ; I have made no fur
ther progress, but am to begin again, so infinite are thy perfections. Moses,
that was dignified with the greatest familiarity with God, could arrive no
higher than the sight of his back parts. A beast, by seeing our actions,
may better comprehend our nature than we comprehend the nature of God.
To know comprehensively is to contain, and the thing contained must be
less than that which contains, and therefore if a creature could comprehend
the essence of God, he would be greater than God. It is infinitely more
difficult for any creature to comprehend the nature and perfections of God,
than it is easy, upon the sight of his works, to acknowledge there is such an
incomprehensible being ; he makes darkness his pavilion and hiding-place.
The comprehensive knowledge of himself is only within himself, and none
can know God as he knows himself, unless he were God ; his name is secret :
Judges xiii. 18.
God is the highest in the rank of beings, the chiefest in the scale of good,
the supreme in the nature of the intelhgent ; man is the lowest of intelligent
creatures. How can he that is in the lowest form of reasonable creatures
mount up to the knowledge of the supreme author of all beings ? We are
not able to conceive of God as he is, because our apprehensions take their
first rise from sense and sensible objects. There must needs then be an in
finite distance between our conceptions of God and his nature, as the con
ception that a man that never saw the sun hath of the sun, by the light of a
candle which he hath seen, is far inferior to the glorious nature of that
luminary. Christ only knows the Father, and ' he to whom the Son will
reveal him ;' yet upon Christ's revelation no man can know God compre
hensively ; not for any weakness of revelation, but incapability in the
creature. The ocean hath water enough to fill the biggest vessel, yet it can
give no more to it than the vessel is able to contain.
[1.] We cannot comprehend the creatures that are near to us. Not to
speak of angels,^that are creatures of another sphere, whose nature we are
not able to measure, and whose appearances were formidable to the believers
under the Old Testament, we find our reasons twinkle at the sight of a star ;
though we behold its sparklings, we cannot understand fully the nature and
dimensions of it. How are our reasons blocked up by clouds of matter from
piercing into the nature of a stone we tread on ! How are we puzzled to
know the soul of an ant, the forms of beasts and plants ! Is not the acutest
reason too blunt to pierce into their hidden natures ? How are we then able
to ascend into the cabinets of the almighty Creator ! How blind are we in
the nature of our own souls, which we bear about in our bodies every day,
and feel the operation of in every motion ! How then can we ' by search
ing find out the Almighty unto perfection ?' If all the wit of the world bath
not been able to content the understanding of man, in the reason of the ebbs
and floods of the sea, the intervals of an ague, the nature of the sun, the at
tractive virtue of the loadstone, and a thousand other things which nonplus
the reason of man, is it possible to comprehend God ? If we know not the
works of nature, can we think to know the Author of nature ? Are we

40 chabnock's woeks. [John XVII. 8.
ignorant of the nature of the effects, and shall we think fully to understand
the cause of them, which infinitely surpasseth them ? If we know not the
world, which is as a point, it cannot be thought that we can comprehend the
circumference itself.
[2.] In heaven, God shall not be comprehensively known. It is true there
will be a fuller perception of God, and a clearer notion of him in heaven ;
the infinite treasures of wisdom and goodness, which he hid in God to be ad
mired, will be then more cleariy seen ; yet God can never descend from his
own infiniteness to be grasped by a created understanding. For in the
highest pitch of glory the soul is but finite, and therefore still too short to
enclose an infinite being in its understanding, even to an endless eternity.
In heaven, the glorified soul is still but a creature. Heaven glorifies our
natures, but doth not make our being infinite ; and till a creature can mount
to the pitch of a creator, it can never understand the nature of the Deity.
When Moses desired to see God's face, or essence, Exod. xxxiii. 18, that
God might be kno-wn to him as the person of a man is known to another by
the discovery of his face, God tells him not, thou shalt not see, or thou
mayest not see, but canst not see my face : verse 20, ' For there shall no
man see my face and live,' i. e. as the Jews expound it,* no created un
derstanding can attain this. That one perfection of his love which we are
more sensible of, and are exhorted to know the length and breadth of, yet
the apostle tells us in the same breath that it ' passeth knowledge,' Eph. iii.
17, 18, 19 ; and the peace of God, which is an effect of his love, ' passeth
all understanding,' Philip, iv. 7. And though it be said, 1 John iii. 2, that
' we shall see him as he is,' it is most convenient to understand it of the
sight of Christ in his visible human nature al the day of judgment, and not
of the essence of God ; for he speaks of the appearance of God, understand
ing Christ's appearance, which the Scripture frequently speaks of. There
will, indeed, in heaven be a wider enlarging the faculty, and a fuller dis
covery of the object, greater sparklings of light and glory, enough to satisfy;
yet still the perfections of God will be above our comprehensions ; the un
derstanding will be dilated and strengthened, a clear light put into it, which
is not any species of God, but a spiritual principle created by God to perfect
the understanding for the contemplation of him.
[3.] The angels, who have had the fullest vision of God since their creation,
cannot know God perfectly ; and that upon the same reason, because they
are creatures. There must be some proportion between the faculty and the
object, but there is none between a finite understanding^ and an infinite
essence. They know God in a more excellent manner than other creatures
can do in the world ; they stand before his face, they see the signs of his
glorious presence ; but their contracted understandings cannot comprehend
the essence of God, which hides itself in the secret place of eternity. If
God could be grasped by any finite understanding, though angelical, he were
not infinite. The angels signify as much by the covering their faces before
the throne of the divine Majesty, that the majesty of God is too mysterious
for the most capacious understanding, Isa. vi. 2. And, therefore, it is
generally said that the human nature of Christ, t though being straitly united
to the divine nature, he did behold the divine essence, yet could not com
prehend it, because the human nature was finite, and a creature.
Nor can we have a comprehensive knowledge of Christ ; the Spirit doth
take of Christ's, to shew to the believers, John xvi. 14, 15 ; but not all of
* Maimon. de Eundam. legis, cap, i. seo. 10, p. G, 7,
t 'Wolleb. compend. lib, i. c. 16, the humanity of Christ did see God oXc, but not
oXus.

John XVII. 3.] the knowledge op god. 41
Christ's, for all the things of Christ cannot be shewn to any man ; as his
divine nature, being infinite and incomprehensible. We know God, as we
know the sea ; we behold the vastness of its waters, but we cannot measure
the depths and abysses of it. Yet we may be said truly to see it, as we
may touch a mountain with our hands, but not grasp it in our arms. We
know God to be omnipotent and immense, but we cannot comprehend his
power and immensity. Nor can we know the counsels of God ; we may as
well expect to span the heavens, and enclose the sea in a nut-shell, as to un
derstand those judgments which are ' past finding out,' Rom. xi. 33. So
that this is not the knowledge God requires of us, or that can be called our
happiness, but that we should know what kind of God he is— merciful, just,
wise, holy, true, — and how those perfections are manifested in Christ. Yet,
because we cannot comprehend him, the more we ought, and the more we
shall, admire him. Our admirations of the brightness of the sun are greater,
by how much the less we can look upon the body of it without winking
and shielding our eyes from the onset of his beams : so should they be of
God. (3.) Neither is it a perfect knowledge of God in this life, so far as it is
possible for a creature to know him, that is required. Our knowledge of
G-od in this life is as the knowledge of him in a glass, obscure, and apt to be
dimmed by the steams and breath of our unworthy affections and notions of
him. We cannot arrive to great measures because of the misty cloud upon
our minds, the beam of sin in our eye ; our soul, clogged with a fleshly clay,
cannot ascend to a perfect knowledge of God. We are like a man closed up
in a room, -where light comes in at some crannies and chinks ofthe shutters;
and though the sun shine ever so clearly, he cannot behold the glory of it
while he remains thus closed up. While we are in this dungeon of flesh,
clouded with sin, we cannot know the glory of Christ, till we are freed from
that darkness by taking away the shuts and obstacles. We have still thick
scales upon our eyes, and too much of the veil upon our hearts. Paul, that
was ennobled with extraordinary revelations, yet pretended to no higher a
knowledge of him than ' as in a glass,' and that not clear, but ' darkly,'
1 Cor, xiii. 12. The fuller knowledge is reserved for another life. We
must know him here by his name, not by his face ; by his grace, not by his
glory. Who can see so well with sore eyes as when the organ is healed ?
Christ looks ' through the lattice,' Cant. ii. 9, gives us an imperfect sight
of himself. God keeps back much of the knowledge of himself to humble
us for our first ciiriosity in Adam, our common root, and to whet our long
ings after another world, wherein we shall know Christ no more by a
stooping faith, but an ascending vision ; when we shall, as it were, with
Thomas, put our hands into his wounds. Yet a perfection in the knowledge
of Christ, as well as in grace, must be aimed at in this life. So the apostle
did, Phihp. iii. 12 : he ' followed after, ifhe might apprehend;' and all that
are sincere are thus minded. He did not apprehend all of Christ, but
laboured still in inquiries after him, and took greater strides in his journey
to him. Light of knowledge is sown here, but the harvest is above. We
can never totally shake off our ignorance, till we surmount our natural cor
ruption. (4.) The knowledge of God and Christ which is saving, differs not from
other knowledge in regard of the object, but the manner of knowing and
the effects of knowledge. One knows by a natural understanding, and
knows God in the Scripture as he would know a thing written in any
other book : the other knowledge is by an understanding opened to take
in more fully what is presented. The shutters which barred out the

42 chabnock's woeks. [John XVII. 3.
hght are pulled down, whereby the light breaks into the room more clearly :
Luke xxiv. 45, ' Then opened he their understandings.' Two may behold
the same picture, the object is the same ; but one having a more piercing
eye, and exacter judgment, will better discern the lineaments and beaul;y of
the work, which the other cannot perceive, though he views the same object.
Suppose a beast that knows his master, and the servants that gave him food,
were changed into a man, and endued with a rational soul, he would have
the same object of knowledge ; but he would know them in another manner,
with an understanding given ; whereas he knew them before only by a cus
tomary sight, a strength of imagination. And another kind of knowledge in
the effects. A child of a year old may know his parents, his father, mother,
and the servants ; but when he grows up, though there be no change of the
object, yet there is in the effects of his knowledge. He knows them with
more reverence, with more rational affections, with expressions of duty. So
the knowledge of God differs in a sound Christian from the knowledge others
have under the preaching of the gospel ; he knows God and Christ in a
clearer manner, with a spiritual eye, and brings forth affectionate and prac
tical fruits of that knowledge.
2. What this knowledge of God is affirmatively. The world pretends to
know God, but Christ flatly denies it, and appeals to his Father for the truth
of it in his last prayer : John xvii. 25, ' The world hath not known thee, but
I have known thee, and these have known that thou hast sent me.' That
part of the worid that Christ had preached to and declared the message
from his Father, knew not God; they heard the report of him, they could
not but know the doctrine delivered, but they rejected it, refused the em
bracing of it, and therefore it was no knowledge of God. He that hath a
true sense of God cannot but love him, trust in him, humble himself before
him, hope in him, resign up himself to him, and bless and praise him for
his manifestation.
The difference therefore of this knowledge from any other is,
1. In regard ofthe effects.
2. In regard of the manner of knowing.
1. In regard of the effects.
(1.) It is a transforming knowledge. Such a knowledge which doth
necessarily include a conformity to the object. There is an external mani
festation of God in the gospel to the ear, an internal manifestation in the
heart. The one is called a report, the other a revelation, Isa. liii. 1. The
common privilege of the gospel is to be heard ; the special, to be manifested
to the saints by a powerful operation in the heart : Col. i. 26, 27, this
' mystery ' is ' made manifest to his saints, to whom God would make known
what is the riches of the glory of this mystery among the Gentiles, which is
Christ in you the hope of glory.' When Christ is made known in themjhe
hope of glory, as well as to them ; when the knowledge of God in his
grace, and the history of Christ in his nature, offices, and passion, is turned
into an image and stamp, working the heart into its own form. Such a
manifestation of God spiritually as men have of God naturally : Rom. i. 19,
' That which may be known of God is manifest in them,' as well as shewn
to them ; shewed to them in the creatures, manifest in their consciences ;
notions of God riveted that cannot be blotted out though resisted by
flesh. In the saving knowledge, the notions of God in his gospel discovery,
and of Christ in his mediation, are manifest in the heart, insinuating them
selves secretly into the inward parts of the soul, and moulding the heart into
the form of the evangelical doctrine. Such a revelation of God and Christ
in a man as changeth the whole frame and model of counsels and counsellors

John XVII. 3.] the knowledge op god. 43
which before were followed : Gal. i. 16 : When Christ was revealed in him,
he 'conferred not with flesh and blood.' The historical knowledge of
Christ is a knowledge of Christ in the purity and misery of his flesh ; the
other is a knowledge of Christ in the renewing of his Spirit. The one is a
knowledge of the truth as it is in the doctrine ; the other a knowledge of the
truth as it is in Jesus, a transcribing the copy in the heart. The knowledge
of the one is hke a man's sight of a star, he gazeth upon it, but is not
turned into the image and sparkling beauty of that star ; the other is like a
man's knowledge of a virtuous person, whose amiable endowments and car
riage he admires, and from an admiration proceeds to imitation, and framing
himself according to that pattern. When knowledge creates love, love
delights to draw the picture of the beloved person.
[I.J This change is the proper end of this knowledge, therefore it cannot
be a right knowledge till it doth attain the end. As the end of the Israelites'
looking upon the brazen serpent was to be changed from wounded to sound
men, from dying to living, the end ofthe angel's moving the waters in the pool
of Bethesda was to enrich them with an healing virtue for the cure of bodily
distempers ; the end of this motion was not attained unless some cure were
wrought. The forming of Christ in the head, changing the notions in the
mind, is in order to a Christ formed in the heart, changing the inclinations
of the will and the temper of the soul. A renewing in knowledge is in order
to the renewing the image of God : Col. iii. 10, ' Renewed in knowledge
after the image of him that created them,' removing the ignorance to remove
the deformity. It is expressed by opening the eyes, but with such a virtue
lodged by it in the heart that attracts it from the devil to God : Acts
xxvi. 18, ' To open their eyes, and to turn them from darkness to light, and
from the power of Satan unto God.' The motion of the will is the end of
light in the understanding. When the eye is opened to behold the truth,
the next step is a change of false notions of God and religion to true ; after
that, a conversion from Satan the prince of darkness, to God the father of
lights ; then follows justification, sanctification, and the completeness of
happiness. Not only the beginning of this change, but the progress of it
till it arrive to perfection, depends upon our looking on Christ : 2 Cor. iii. 18,
' With open face, beholding as in a glass the glory of the Lord, are changed
into the same image from glory to glory, as by the Spirit ofthe Lord.' The
glory of God and Christ are beheld and known in the glass of the gospel,
and a divine beauty conveyed, as was to Moses in his converse with God, by
a reflection ofhis beams, just as the rising sun changeth the air into its own
likeness, and transforms the world from the deformity of darkness to the
beauty of light, or colours laid upon canvass assimilate it to the object whose
picture it is. There is a reflection from the understanding to the will
whereby this change is wrought, and it is by look after look that it is per
fected to a full resemblance, according to the degrees of spiritual knowledge.
When this knowledge is enlightening, it is the image of God in the mind ;
when it is enlivening, it is the image of God in the heart ; a picture of God
and Christ, drawn in the understanding, which enamours the will, and assi
milates the whole soul to God. The gospel is this glass, which doth not
only represent the object, but alters the complexion of the soul. This trans
formation is the end of the opening the eye, that the object may be viewed,
and the heart changed thereby. As human knowledge is insignificant unless
it attain the end of knowledge, so is divine, or the knowledge of God. The
sublimest knowledge of God, therefore, which centres not in this end, is to
no purpose, unless to aggravate our sin and sharpen our misery. This is
not gained by a loose knowledge, as a man knows the sun by his beams ;

44 chabnock's wobks. [John XVII. 3.
but he hath not the image of the sun in the ball of his eye unless he look
upon the body of it.
[2.] The change of the soul to a perfect glory in heaven depends upon
the perfect knowledge of God and Christ ; and therefore the change here
depends upon this knowledge. This knowledge therefore cannot be a right
knowledge without this, which is the proper effect of it. The vision of
Christ in his glorious state shall then cause likeness to him : 1 John iii. 2,
' We shall be hke him, for we shall see him as he is.' We shall see him in
his glory ; we shall, by that view, be transformed into the image of his
glory, as by contemplating his virtues we are here changed into the image
of his grace. The devils and wicked men shall see him in his glory at his
appearance, but not be happy by him, because their knowledge of him doth
not change their devilish complexion. As it is an uncomfortable knowledge
of him then which doth not change the soul into the image of his glory, so
it is a miserable knowledge of him here that doth not alter us into the image
of his grace. The true knowledge of God works the same effects here,
according to its degrees, as it will hereafter. As a perfect sight will draw the
clearest and fullest lineaments of God in the heart, so an imperfect know
ledge of him here must cause some shadows and imperfect draughts of him
in the soul. It is not else a knowledge of the right stamp.
[3.] Such an effect of the knowledge of Christ is therefore necessary.
Every notion of God and Christ in the mind must spring np into a new
grace in the will, and be as a root of life in the heart ; it will else be but as
a feather in the cap or flower in the hand, which will make a little show
and wither, and leave no prints behind it but those of condemnation. That
knowledge of God which is not beautified with grace, instead of making us
amiable Christians, will render us deformed devils.
Well, then, consider, do we find grace conformable to our knowledge of
God and Christ ? Doth the knowledge of God's holiness in Christ render
our souls holy ? Doth the consideration of his majesty sink us into humi
lity ? Doth the thoughts of his condescension lay the soul at his feet ?
Doth the knowledge of his power subdue our pride, the knowledge of his love
transform us into love and affection ? Doth grace in our hearts bud forth
from the notions of our head ? It is then such a knowledge of God as
secures our happiness. Do we see Christ in the brightness of his divine
nature, and the veil of his human, to admire his condescending kindness ?
Do we know him travelling to mount Calvary, in the greatness ofhis strength,
to spring up sorrow for our sins ? Do we see him wrestling with devils, to
pull the prey of precious souls out of his hand, to rest upon his power ? Do
we know him offering up to the justice of God the full satisfaction of blood,
and paying the demanded debt to a farthing, to accept of him as a propitia
tion ? Do we know him wielding a royal sceptre by the will of his Father,
to obey his authority ? Do we know him pierced, and know him raised ?
know him on the cross and on the throne ? in the reproaches of men and
the glory of his Father ? to be assimilated to him in the hkeness of his
death and the quickenings of his resurrection ? It is then a hving know
ledge, such a knowledge as now buds and blossoms, and will ripen up to
eternal life.
2. It is an affective knowledge. All saving knowledge is full of sense.
The beams of truth in the mind beget a kindly heat in the will. The under
standing forms motives of fear and love of God, and offers them to the will
to be pursued ; the soul desires to know him more, that it may love him.
Some, therefore, define divinity to be affective.* All men have some
* Ales.

John Xvil. 3.j the knowledge of god. 45
knowledge of God objectively, but it is not formally a divine knowledge,
without the affections of love to him, and delight in him. This saving know
ledge is a knowledge of a reality in God and Christ. Another may have
clearer notions, know truths in their connections, but a Christian knows
with a more excellent knowledge, because more affective, with a heat as well
as light. What shines upon the head kindles love in the heart. Others have
the same object of knowledge, but it appears not in that amiableness to
them ; there is a difference between a rational and spiritual knowledge, as
there is between the Spirit, the author of the one, and reason, the spring of
the other. Natural knowledge lies sleeping in the head, without jogging the
affections ; spiritual light cannot be without spiritual heat: Luke xxiv. 31, 32,
' Their eyes were opened, and their hearts burned.' The one hath light like
that of a torch; the other influence, as well as light, like that of the sun.
It is the property of light not only to enlighten, but heat. Some, therefore,
make fire to be nothing else but condensed light, and light to be rarefied
fire. The true light of God is always accompanied with a flame of love,
which clasps about the object. The divine philosopher could say, that
souls, first by a view, and then by a love of the divine beauty, recover their
wings, and fly up to their heavenly country. Have we, therefore, not only
a shine in our heads, but a warmth in our hearts ; not only a beam in our
minds, but a spark in our affections ? It is then a saving knowledge of God.
Both must go together ; knowledge without affections is stupid, and affec
tions without knowledge are childish. The diviner the light in the mind,
the warmer will love be. in the soul. The clearer and stronger the beams
upon the wall, the stronger will be the reflection. In knowledge, we are
passive in the reception of the divine beams ; by affection, we are active, and
give ourselves to God.
To prove this, consider that,
(1.) All the knowledge we have of God is insignificant to happiness, with
out suitable affections. God!s end is not so much to be known by us, as to
be loved by us, and the discovery of himself is in order to a return of affec
tions from us : John xiv. 21, 'He that loves me, shall be loved of my Father;'
not he that only knows me. We cannot suppose that in heaven the blessed
are enriched with a greater light, but that they may be spirited with a
greater loVe. Love and holiness are the perfection of the soul there, and
contemplation but a means to bring in the heart to him. It is more glo
rious to love than barely to know. Those that distinguish the orders of
angels, place the seraphim above the cherubim, because they have a more
ardent love, as well as the clearer knowledge. If we want love to others, the
apostle'accounts us ignorant of God, because God is love : 1 John iv. 8,
' He that loves not, knows not God, for God is love.' Much more is he ig
norant of God, that is empty of affection to him, who is more amiable than
any creature. It is one thing to know God, and another to retain God in
our knowledge. One may be said to know God, who can discourse rationally
of God, as those philosophers could, Rom. i. 28 ; but they retain God in
their knowledge, that are inflamed with affection to him, and scorn all things
in comparison of him. Though we may seem to have a clear knowledge, it
cannot be thriving without this, not continuing ; when anything is loved
equally with him, there may soon be a forsaking of him. All the knowledge
a natural man hath of God, is such a sight of the excellency of God and
Christ, and his truths, as a beast hath of a diamond; he seeth it sparklmg,
but knows not its real worth, and therefore hath no satisfaction in it, nor
affection to it.
[1.] Since this knowledge is transforming, it cannot be so without affection.

46 chabnock's woeks. [John XVII. 3
Without knowledge of him, we can never affect him ; and without affections,
we can never be like him. We are not changed into his image till we be
hold his beauty so as to love and adore him. It is not only a beam of his love
liness, but a ray of his love, that changeth the temper of the soul. Though
the hght of the fire attends the heat of it,* yet it is not the light, but the
heat, transforms combustible matter into fire. It was not Christ's know
ledge of us, but love to us, stooped the divine nature to assume ours ;
nor our knowledge, but faith and love, that elevates us to the divine. As
Christ is a Sun of righteousness, not only shining, but warming, if we be
like him, there must not only be hght in our minds, but warmth in our
affections. [2.] It could be no better than the knowledge of a'devil. If we had aa
high a knowledge of God as an angel hath, without affections suitable to the
angelical state, it would be our torment, not our happiness. This saving
knowledge ^differs from the other, as the knowledge of angels doth from
that of devils. The light in their minds hath sprung out into a constant
affection ever since their creation, and could never see a spark in anything
else to draw them to any dislike of God. The devils have a knowledge of
God, but are as much empty of affection to him as the angels are of any
hatred of him. The knowledge of the good angels would be their torment,
as well as the knowledge of the devils, if they had not flames of love, as well
as beams of hght. That only is true knowledge that acts us to a con
junction with God.
[3.] The knowledge of any object is to little purpose without a suitable
affection. As a man hath not a right knowledge of sin, unless he feel the
dreadful weight of it, so as to loathe it, — ^Ezek. xxxvi. 31, ' Then shall you
remember your own evil ways, and shall loathe yourselves for your ini
quity' ; — nor n. right knowledge of the word, unless he doth believe it ; nor
a right apprehension of the world unless he counts it contemptible ; so no
man knows God aright unless his heart be set upon him, according to the
worth of the object known, and the savom- of the ointments of Christ. It
is impossible a man can have an intellectual spiritual view of God, but he
must see him amiable and worthy of his choicest affections ; and he cannot
be so injurious to himself and his own sentiments, as not to give his own
apprehensions their due by giving God's amiableness his. He cannot be
said, therefore, to have any sound apprehension of God, who hath not a
choice affection to him, and delight in him. He that doth not praise the
skill of an artist in his workmanship, discovers either his ignorance or his
envy. As a faith without works hath no better a title from the apostle than
a dead faith, James ii. 20, so a knowledge without love is no better than a
dead, stupid knowledge, a knowledge buried in the grave of earthly affec
tions. No man can be so stripped of affection to himself, as to neglect that
good which he doth really know. No man can imagine that another appre
hends that as excellent, with which there is not a full closure of his affec
tions. If Moses had not shghted the treasures of Egypt for the reproach
of Christ, he had not testified any true knowledge and esteem of him,
Heb. xi. 26.
Well, then, can that man be said to know God to be clothed with majesty,
before whom angels cover their faces, and mountains tremble, who hath no
fear to offend him ? Doth he know God to be a consuming fire, and himself
but stubble, that hath no dread of God ? Doth he know the mercy of God,
who hath no care to please him, but presumes upon his goodness ? Can he
* Fatal Doom, or Charms of Divine Love, p 9, changed.

John XVII. 3. J the knowledge of god. 47
be said to know God's holiness, that hath no sense of his own uncleanness ?
Doth that man know Christ to be a blessed Redeemer, who doth not fall at
his feet ? Doth he know him groaning upon the cross for sin, and bruised
for it, who lets that sin live with welcome in his soul, which grieved and
bruised him ? If knowledge in the head doth not work spiritual affections
in the heart, it can never be put upon the account of a saving knowledge ;
it is not really knowledge, but only a pretence to it.
(2.) Without affection, we answer not the end of the knowledge of God.
The revelation of God is made to us for our imitation, he is discovered as
the chiefest good and the exactest pattern. The sum of the law consists in
love, and the end of the gospel manifestation is to engage our love. Christ
is not represented only as a dying man, but as God-man dying for the sins
of the world, suffering in our stead, and therefore to raise our affections, not
to content our curiosity. Faith and love must join hands, 1 Tim. i. 14.
The gospel, which is a representation of God in Christ, is said to be worthy,
not of observation, but of acceptation, ver. 15, and worthy of observation in
order to acceptation. The knowledge of a law is to raise a love to it. Pa.
cxix. 97 ; the knowledge of the law-giver ought not to do less. As we know
not righteousness till the law be in our hearts, — Isa. li. 7, ' Ye that know
righteousness, the people in whose heart is my law,' — so we know not God
till he be in our affections.
(3.) Our knowledge of God ought to be conformable to his knowledge of
us. God's knowledge of his people is attended with affection. He is not
said in Scripture language to know, unless he love : Amos iii. 2, ' You only
have I known of all the families of the earth.' There is a great difference
between God's knowledge of omniscience, and his knowledge of affection.
With the first he knows all creatures, with the other his people. As God is
not said to know us without testimonies of his affection to us, so we cannot
be said to know God without leaps of our affections to him.
(4.) Application of ourselves to the knowledge of God without affection
is not agreeable to the nature of our souls. The choice of the will in all
true knowledge treads upon the heel of the act of the understanding, and
men naturally desire the knowledge- of that which is true, in order to the
enjoyment of that which is good in it. The end of all the acts of the under
standing is to cause a motion in the will and affections suitable to the appre
hension. God hath given us two faculties : understanding, to know the
goodness of a thing, and a will to embrace it. To content one faculty in
contemplation , without contenting the other in embracing what we know, is
to give a half satisfaction to the soul ; it is to separate those two faculties of
understanding and wiU, which God hath joined. Knowledge is the glory of
the mind both in this and the other world, the object of that is truth ; but
there is another faculty which must have its perfection, that is, the will, the
object whereof is good ; and the content of that faculty lies in embracing the
good apprehended both in this life and the next. This, therefore, must be
gratified as well as the other, and each faculty must have a full rest in a due
object; the soul else cannot have an entire satisfaction according to the
latitude and capaciousness of its nature. Therefore all abstracted notions of
God, without an influence upon the will, are barren, and not agreeable and
satisfactory to the nature of the soul. It cannot be satisfied with contem
plation without fruition, and such an intimate fruition as may affect the
whole nature. Now, to have this enjoyment is not only to know God or
think of him, but to embrace him by love, to clasp about God with spiritual
affections, to receive the touches of his goodness every moment. To give
the soul a full satisfaction according to the nature of it, is to have a stamp

48 chabnock's woeks. [John XVII. 3.
of the nature of God upon our understanding, and a stamp of the goodness
of God upon our wills.
(5.) Without affection, our knowledge of God may have, and will have,
base and corrupt ends. And therefore our knowledge cannot be saving with
out it. Men may desire to know, out of a natural itch, the relics of Adam,
or out of a desire to enlarge the perfection of their understanding (as the
knowledge of philosophers did tend chiefly to such an end), and may have
no higher aims in endeavouring after the knowledge of God than endeavour
ing after the knowledge of other things, either natural or moral. Perhaps
this affecting the knowledge of God may arise from pride and ambition ; and
a desire of being esteemed eminent in intellectuals and discourse may make
the pulse of their affections beat strongly to this knowledge, it being natural
to men to be displeased more with being counted fools than being counted
vicious, and to have more natural desires after knowledge than after virtue,
even as Adam had. Nay, men may desire to know God and the truths of
God as a stirrup to some lust, and to foment some carnal design, as gain,
which may be promoted by religious discourses. But certainly much of the
knowledge of God which is pretended among us, though it may arise out of
an affection to knowledge, yet may be without an affection to the object of
it. As there is a knowledge of God when there is not a ' glorifying of him
as God,' Rom. i. 21, so there may be a desire to know God without any
desire to glorify him. As a man may desire to know sin, to see a man
when he is drunk and to observe his carriage, not out of any design he hath to
loathe that sin, but to make his observations upon the carriage and disposition
of the person while he is under the power of that fllthy act, which is but to
satisfy his curiosity ; or he may desire to see a man in the exercise of some
virtue out of thes^me end, not out of a desire to conform himself to that pattern ;
so a man may desire to know God, and Christ, and the truths of Christ, not
with any intent to have his affections with an exact harmony centre in them,
but to satisfy that natural thirst which he hath;, for knowledge. And a man
may have a great delight in this knowledge of God, as Isa. Iviii. 2, they did
' delight to know God's ways,' and ' delight in approaching ' to him, but
(as their fasts were, ver. 4) 'for strife and debate.' And that delight may
arise from a delight in the excellency of the object, as a man delights to
contemplate the nature of the sun and stars more than the nature of a clod
of earth, yet cannot be said to love them, but loves his own act of contem
plation and knowledge of them. Many thus know God, and are inquisitive
after the knowledge of him, as a curious object of knowledge, not as a
spiritual object of love and dehght to bestow the flower of their affections
upon. Such often miss of their intent ; God obscures himself when he is
searched after with such curiosity. And such a knowledge wiU end in
apostasy, as it began in corruption ; the man will return as a dog to lick up
his vomit, or a swine to wallow in the mire, as those did who had escaped
the pollutions of the world ' through the knowledge of Christ,' 2 Peter
ii. 20-22 ; which kno-wledge they did probably affect out of curiosity, be
cause of the novelty of it, the noise it made in the world, or some by-end
which made them cast it off when it ceased to serve their purpose, and so
at last count Christ and his cross foolishness.
Well, then.
Try your knowledge of God by your affections to him. What strong
desires are there for the enjoyment of God and Christ; what delight in
approaches to him ; what propensities of the heart in spiritual duties ? Do
they spring from affection, or move by the fears and jerks of conscience ?
Doth the knowledge of Christ m his mediation, natures, offices, as the only

John avu. b.j the knowcedge of god. 49
remedy for our lost souls, kindle desires, holy affections, nnexpressible
heart-breakings for him, as we find David's heart often flying up upon this
wing ? Is there a love to God rising out of a sense of his love to lost man?
God cannot be known as an infinite, and unbounded, and outflowing good
ness without a flight of our affections to him. It is as impossible that a
good spiritually known should not be beloved, as that any good should be
beloved that is not known. Every common witness of God in the works of
creation ' fills the heart with gladness,' Acts xiv. 16, 17, much more every
spiritual witness of God in the work of redemption apprehended by the soul.
If created excellency insinuates itself into our affections, the supereminent
beauty of God must much more when he is seen and known. The spiritual
light which comes from God is for God. In other knowledge, self-lo ;e
poiseth the heart, but a saving knowledge conducts the heart to an admira
tion of God and affection to him. In heaven, a clear vision renders the
beholder full of the most glowing affections. The angels ' always behold
the face of God,' Mat. xviii. 10. Always, as not counting anything else
worthy of a glance, but in obedience to his order. Nothing can be called a
saving knowledge of God which doth not rank all our affections in order to
the object of it.
3. It is an active and expressive knowledge ; it expresseth in the life what
is in the head and heart. A change in the heart engenders affection, and
affection will brea^ out in action ; love will lay a constraint upon the heart.
We commonly say of a notoriously profane man, though he may have ex
cellent parts, and a great stock of knowledge, that he is a sot ; because his
knowledge is not operative in ways agreeable to it, he acts like the most
ignorant person. He cannot be said to know God to be holy, and the
gospel to be a doctrine according to godliness, who hath not a practice
according to the rules of godliness. To be sensual, is to have nothing of
the Spirit : Jude 19, he hath nothing of the light of the Spirit who is under
the conduct of a corrupted sense. And the apostle intimates it plainly, that
unless men ' awake to righteousness ' and avoid sin, they ' have not the
knowledge of God,' 1 Cor. xv. 34. A bedrid knowledge it is, without affec
tion proper for it, rather the torment than ornament of the soul. All know
ledge, without an imitation of God, is but a stupid, sleepy notion. We have
then a full assurance of knowledge, when we are followers of God, 1 Thes.
i. 5, 6. The first principle which is taught by the manifestation of God is
to deny ungodliness : Titus ii. 12, 13, ' The grace of God teacheth us to
deny ungodliness.' As God's knowing us is not a simple view, but a pro
vident care, so our knowledge of God is not a simple speculation, but a
divine operation of the soul, as well as in the soul. If ' he that commits
sin hath not known God,' 1 John iii. 6, then he that hath known God doth
not commit sin. He flatters not himself in any, arms himself against all,
commenceth an irreconcilable war against the lighter troops as well as the
main body, and stands upon his guard to prevent every invasion. He that
knows Christ, knows that he is worthy of all his service, since he, andnone
but he, was crucified for him. He that knows God, knows the necessity of
enjoying him, and will therefore be guided in those ways which tend to the
enjoyment of him. If a man knows a medicine to be excellent for the cure
of such a disease which he labours under, and is sensible of the necessity of
it, he will certainly apply it. As Christ discovered the knowledge of God in
the world, to dissolve the works of the devil in the world ; so when the
knowledge of Christ shines in the heart, it dissolves the works of darkness
and lust in the soul, for it discovers right notions of sin and vanity, and he
VOL. IV. '^

50 chabnock's woeks. [John XVli. 3.
that hath right notions of it cannot affect it. When Noah knew God in his
threatening justice, he obeys God in the building an ark. When Abraham
knew God in the mercy and truth of his promise, he obeys God in offering
his Isaac. The one's knowledge wrought against the reproaches of an un
believing world, and the other's against the tide of a natural affection :_ so
powerful is this divine knowledge, where it seizeth upon the heart, to bring
forth the fruits of fear and holiness. Let none of us therefore flatter our
selves that we have a saving knowledge of God without imitation of him,
that we understand Christ to be a sufficient Saviour without relying on him.
It is a knowledge in the form, and an ignorance in the power. Without an
ejangelical obedience, a professing Christian knows no more savingly than a
moral heathen, because he acts no better than such an one.
(1.) This knowledge is life. It is 'the light of life,' John viii. 12; an
active, lively hght, by an Hebraism. All lucid bodies in the heavens_ are
active in their own nature, and direct Tnen in their several spheres of activity
in the world. When the sun riseth, men rise to their daily task ; when the
light of the knowledge of the glory of God shines forth in the face of Christ
in the heart, there is a resurrection to vital actions. It is ' a well-spring
of life unto him that hath it,' Prov. xvi. 22. If it hath a vitality in it to
convey hfe, it must needs rise up in excellent operations, according to the
measure of it, unless that we can suppose that a divine principle in the
mind should produce nothing else but a dead sleep in all the other parts of
the soul. Life it is, and hfe is not without activity ; eternal life it is, and
that cannot be without a succession of vital acts to eternity.
(2.) The end of knowledge is not attained without actions suitable to it.
If we have been taught by him, as the truth is in Jesus, there is a stripping
off the rags of the old Adam, a change of ' the former conversation which
was according to deceitful lusts,' Eph. iv. 21, 22; 'but you have not so
learned Christ,' &c. As the word is an engrafted word, so the knowledge of
God is an engrafted knowledge, which is inserted in the stock, to change the
nature of it into that of the graft, and causing the production of fruits from it
according to the nature of the slip joined with it. The Scripture, which is
a discovery of God, is not only a history but a rule. God declares himself
as our Lord and as our pattern ; Christ is manifested as an image of con
formity as well as a propitiatory offering. Where he is known as a pro
pitiation for our comfort, he is known as a pattern for our practice. The end
of knowledge is to impress a sound image of the goodness of an object as
well as the truth ; the truth to be eyed, and the goodness to be imitated.
Distinct conceptions of God, and rational discourses of Christ,* glorify him
no more than a painter doth the party whose picture he hath drawn. The
glory of God consists not in a lifeless notion of him, but an active resemblance
of him. A natural man may have some pleasure in knowing the nature of
God, but he cares not for knowing the ways of God : Job xxi. 14, ' We
desire not the knowledge of thy ways ;' he would know him to be merciful,
but not know him to be holy. He is opposite to the truths of God, because
they are repugnant to the delights and interests of the flesh. The Scotists
defined divinity well when they made it practica ; better than Aquinas, who
made it speculativa. Every illumination of the mind is not to speculate, but
to work by ; every notion of God is a direction to some sphere of action.
The end of Christ's knowledge of his Father must be the end of our know
ledge, both of God and himself. He knows his Father's secrets, to reveal
them, and he knows his Father's will to perform it. As we are to pray that
we may do the will of God as the angels do, so we are to know, that we may
* Jackson, vol. iii quar. cap, viii. p. 129,

John a vii. a.j the knowledge of god. 51
do the will of God as the angels do it. The incarnation of Christ was for
action ; the divine nature had not attained its end in the business of our re
demption, without union to the human, as necessary to mediatory acts ; nor
doth our knowledge of God attain its end without union to the wilj, as neces
sary to all religious operations. The knowledge of Christ is like the former
prophecies of Christ, which would not have had their effect without his in
carnation; nor hath knowledge its effect without (so to speak) an incarnation
of it in our conversation. The end of knowledge is directive ; the proper
effect of knowledge is the observation of the direction, to write aftei the copy,
to work according to the pattern, to do what is agreeable to the perfections
of God, to honour what we see honourable in God, and to disparage none of
those excellencies we profess to know.
(3.) All the knowledge of God and Christ, without action corresponding
thereunto, is no better in the account of God than ignorance, unless it be
accidentally to condemnation. Without obedience, we are truly]^ignorant,
though our speculations may be as sublime as those of devils : 1 John ii. 4,
' He that saith, he knows him, and keeps not his commandments, is a liar.'
The true knowledge of God doth not only glitter in the understanding, or
glimmer in a profession, but beams out in a vigorous conversation, acting all
things agreeable to the will of God. That knowledge of God which doth not
take root in the heart, and grow up into life and spirit, is ignorance in the
account of God. Those Gentiles, Rom. i. 21, that are said to know God, are,
ver. 28, said not to know him ; they knew him as rational men, not as obedi
ent men ; they had a notion of him, without any affection to his service ; they
had high speculations of his excellency, but nothing of his perfections and
his law writ in the tables of their hearts : such a knowledge as geometri
cians may have by understanding the rules of a science, not such a knowledge
as an artificer may have by the practice of those rules. No doubt but Eli's
sons had a knowledge of God and his law by education, but because it did not
shde into their conversation, they are said not to know the Lord, 1 Sam.
ii. 12. Not to know God, and not to obey him, are one and the same thing in
the account of God at the day of judgment, 2 Thes. i. 8 ; and it is called
ignorance, because men with that knowledge act as if they were wholly
ignorant of the nature and will of God. They behave themselves as men
that never heard of God or Christ would be expected to do. They may be
Christians in knowledge, and pagans in life. True reason in everything
doth naturally tend to practice. He is of no use in a society or common
wealth who is swallowed up in contemplations, and launcheth not out into a
useful activity. An idle knowledge is of no use for God, and the end of a
man's creation ; it is but a pretence, a mere puff of a fleshly mind. There
is as much difference between such a dormant knowledge, and that which
riseth up in sprightly motions for God, as between the sun in a. statue
bravely gilded, and that in the firmament dispersing his influences into all
the corners of the world, and honouring his Creator by his daily race. We
no more know any truth of God, unless we digest it, than a man knows the
virtue of bread, unless he concocts it, and feels the strength of it in his
limbs. Practice is the evidence of knowledge ; it cannot be rationally con
cluded that he knows God to be omnipresent, who neglects the duty m secret
required of him, or apprehends him to be just, who in a course of sin denies
it, and presumes upon his mercy. God puts an emphasis upon Josiah's
obedience, as an evidence of his knowledge : Jer. xxii. 16, ' He judged the
cause of the poor and needy ; was not this to know me ? saith the Lord.'
More than ever God said of Solomon, who had his brain better filled, and
his heart more empty. Solomon could discourse excellently of the nature of

52 chabnock's wobks. [John XVII. 3.
God, and ravish men with his wisdom ; but God never said of that, ' Waa
not this to know me?' Other knowledge may make us admired among
men ; this only makes us acceptable to God.
(4.) The least saving knowledge of God is of an active nature. The wise
men had but a spark by the discovery of a star, and that put them upon
seeking the King of the Jews, Mat. ii. 1, 2 ; the least star in the heavens,
though it hath not so much light as another, has its influences and regular
motions. Another may discourse better of the nature of God, speak dis
tinctly of the glory of his attributes and works, discourse of the nature of
sin, give an hundred reasons against it, yet obey not that God he speaks of,
and be a slave to that sin he disputes against ; whereas he that hath the
least spark of the spiritual knowledge of God and Christ, walks more accord
ing to the nature of God, and demeans himself with more honour to the
perfections of God in his hf«, than the greatest discourser of him can with
his tongue. He is continually inquiring what purity, fear, love, dependence,
obedience, grief and joy, the holiness, majesty, goodness, mercy, faithfulness,
power, and righteousness of God, calls for at his hands. Such an one hath
a martyral knowledge ; is content to part with anything, with all, for the
glory of that God he knows : the other, that hath a flourishing wit, a loose,
unrooted, floating knowledge, would not part with the least drop of blood in
his body for the honour of that God he pretends to know ; he would cast
all the knowledge of God and Christ at his heels, rather than part with any
thing for him, when Christ and his life come to a contest. But the least
grain of the saving knowledge of God renders a man an habitual martyr.
Well, then, try your knowledge of God by this. As sin is not known
unless it cause grief in the heart, so God is not known unless the knowledge
of him quicken an obedience to him. Where this spiritual knowledge of
God is implanted, and the sweetness of Christ experimented, there will be
a delight in those services which are well pleasing to him ; a joy in all
motives to him, and a swiftness in all motions for him ; a delight, both in
the service itself, and the object of it.
4. It is an humbhng, self-abasing knowledge.
(1.) It hnmbleth us before God. To know God without knowing our
selves, is a fruitless speculation.* The knowledge of ourselves and our own
misery, without the knowledge of God and his mercy, is a miserable vexa
tion. The end of it is to pay God a glory due to him from his creature.
Pride debaseth the Deity, and snatcheth the crown of glory from God to set
it upon the creature's head ; but this saving knowledge sinks man to the
dust without sinking him to hell ; lays him flat on the earth, thereby to raise
him to heaven. True knowledge, and a melting heart, are inseparable com
panions ; Christ joins hardness and ignorance together, Mark viii. 17. It
is the nature of other knowledge to puff up, 1 Cor. viii. 1 ; of this, to pull
down. The plumes of a proud spirit fall at the appearance of God. He
regards himself as a worm, when he understands the excellency of his
Creator. Without it, it is but a knowledge in conceit, not in reality ; he
knows nothing of God, though he thinks he doth, 1 Cor. vui. 2. Manasseh
had some knowledge of God, no question, by the religious education of his
father Hezekiah ; but it went not for current coin in heaven till he was in
an humbled frame : 2 Chron. xxxiii. 12, 13, ' Then Manasseh knew that the
Lord he was God.' It is not a knowledge of God till it make a man shrink
into a sense of his own baseness and nothingness. A bare dogmatical know
ledge of God advanceth man without a proportionable advancement of God.
It is of the same nature with other knowledge ; that which comes from our
* Dr Preston.

John XVII. 3.] the knowledge of god. 53
own reason is our fondling, it brings forth the fruits of old Adam ; that which
is dropped in by the Spirit brings forth the fruits of the Spirit, renders a
man sensibly obliged, not to his own wit, but God's grace. A rational reve
lation rather hardens the heart than melts it ; * as a rational conviction is
hght without heat. Other knowledge discovers other things, but not a man's
self; hke a dark lantern, which shews us other persons and things, but ob
scures ourselves from the sight of ourselves ; but the knowledge of God is
such a hght whereby a man beholds himself, as well as the way wherein he
is to walk.
[1.] It is such a knowledge as scatters the mist that is upon the heart,
and thereby discovers its filth. The first beam»shot into the heart by the
Spirit darts to the very centre, and discovers the nest of filth and poison.
As the beam is shot from God, it reveals his beauty ; as shedding its light
upon the soul, it reveals its deformity. As the beam from the sun, that
conquers the darkness of the night, discovers the glory of the sun, and the
filth of a dunghill at the same time. The sensible discovery of the holiness
of God, and the sufferings of Christ, in the very act, opens the sinfulness of
sin. The majesty of God shews him his vileness, the purity of God his
filthiness, the justice of God his demerit, and the power of God his im
potence. If the soul knows God in his glory, it sinks down, with Isaiah, at
the very first ray of it, in a sense of its undone condition : Isa. vi. 1, 5,
' Woe is me, for I am undone !' 'n*D13; I was silent, (Symm.), Itf;w*j)(ra,
as if he had attempted to join with the angels in the praise of God at the
sight of him, but was struck down with a sense of his own unworthiness.
' I am a man of polluted lips,' i.e. I am not worthy to praise God ; so power
ful was one ray to affect his whole soul with a sense of his sin, and his
miserable estate by it, and stripped him of all conceits of self-worth. f When
the soul hears God in the law, it trembles at the thunder. When it sees
Christ bowing upon the cross, it cannot but bow down under a sense of that
iniquity which caused it. To know Christ savingly, in the first glance, is to
know ourselves to be children of wrath, under the curse of the law, and
liable to the justice of God. To know Christ as mediator, implies our dis
tance from God ; to know him as reconciler, our enmity ; to know him as
redeemer, our slavery ; to know him as a prophet, our ignorance ; as a
priest, our guilt and weakness ; as an advocate, our inabihty to manage our
own cause. Every notion of Christ is a light that opens our eyes to advance
faith in God, and humility in ourselves. Every rule is index sui et obliqui,
it shews its own straightness, and the crookedness of anything applied to it.
All the glory of the stars, as well as the darkness of the night, disappears at
the rising of the sun. At the shedding of this beam upon the heart, the
natural glory of a man's own righteousness is obscured, as well as his guilt
and loathsomeness manifested. When the elders saw God in his glory, they
fell upon their faces, Rev. iv. 10. When John Baptist saw Christ, he was
sensible of his own filthiness, and need of washing : Matt. iii. 14, ' I have
need to be baptized of thee ;' an expression not used before by him to any
of the multitude. How is a soul, at the first breaking out of this hght upon
him, humbled at the consideration of his unworthy thoughts of God, unsuit
able to the notions he is now possessed with ! How doth he distaste his
own temper, to be so little affected with a God so transcendently worthy of
his highest love ! 0 my soul, why wert thou so base, so vile in thy ap
prehensions and pursuits, as to cast thyself down to adore such despicable
objects as sin and vanity !
(2.) It is a knowledge that comes from God, and therefore must needs
* Strong. t Grot.

54 chabnock's woeks. [John XVII. 3.
humble. It is a beam from him ; it is not therefore to nourish that pride
in the creature which he punished upon the fall with so long a chain of
miseries. It is he ' teacheth the meek his way,' Ps. xxv. 9. He makes
fcinners meek by his teaching ; and when they are meek, they are subjects
capable of more knowledge and instructions from him. If the meek are the
subjects of clearer teachings, the effect of this discovery is not to exalt their
pride, but enlarge their humility. Pride cannot naturally flow from anything
that is divine. It is none of God's offspring, but the devil's brat. God,
who hath set us a pattern of humility in his own condescensions, and set us
an example of humility in the person of his Son, can never be the Father of
that which is so contrary to aU his designs in the world. Pride is the devil's
fly-blow in the soul.
(3.) Th« knowledge of God is always attended with a comparison ofthe
soul with him, if it be saving. There cannot but be some reflection. The
angels, in their knowledge of Christ as their confirmer, cannot but reflect
with humility upon their mntable state by nature, which might have rendered
them by their own folly as sinful and miserable as devils, without the grace
of God, and their confirmation in a happy state by the Son of God. So in
the knowledge of God's excellency, the soul cannot but reflect upon its un
suitableness to God. It sees God, and falls out with itself. It loves God,
and is angry with itself. It beholds God, and looks upon itself with disdain.
P«ter could not receive a look from his master without reflecting upon his
unworthy carriage, and melting into tears. When a man looks upon the
earth, and the things upon it, he is apt to believe he hath an acute eye ; but
when he looks upon the sun, and finds himself confounded by the brightness
of its light, he is sensible of the dulness of his eye iu comparison of that
lustre which glared upon it. So when we fix our eyes upon ourselves, and
dwell upon the thoughts of any excellency, righteousness, or virtue in us, we
turn self-flatterers, and are apt to imagine that we are some great thing,
above the sphere of common nature, and the insects of mankind ; but when
we turn our eyes towards heaven, and take a prospect of the holiness, wisdom,
righteousness of God, which ought to be our copy to write after, our pride
is dashed out of countenance, our holiness appears sordid, our righteousness
matter of shame, our virtue feeble, our wisdom folly, our actions madness,
and all our excellency a mere senseless shadow. We are then humbled, not
only for our sins, but our services, when we find those duties we are apt to
boast of bear no proportion to the holiness of God. When Paul knew Christ,
he was not only humble in himself, but rejected all confidence in the religious
props he rested on before, Philip, iii. 8. He then beheld himself a dead
man, and his services dead services, when he understood the righteousness
of God manifested in a crucified and raised Christ. One spark of the divinity
of Christ in a miracle brought Peter upon his knees with a self-reflection :
' Lord, depart from me, for I am a sinful man,' Luke v. 8. It will make
men humble for the sin of others. If we know God spiritually to be great,
exceUent, holy, we cannot but with grief behold the sons of men so careless
of his honour, and travailing with a birth of perpetual injuries against bo
excellent a majesty ; when we compare his nature with their practices, and
reflect how little he hath deserved such carriages, and how much he hath
deserved the contrary. The angels having the most glittering heads have
also the most affectionate hearts to the glory of that majesty which they
adore, and therefore they rejoice at the conversion of a sinner ; by the same
reason they have, if not their grief, yet their indignation at the abuses God
suffers in the world by wicked men, when they make this judicious comparison.
(4.) The more knowledge any ever had of God, the more humble they

John XVII. 3.] • the knowledge op god. 55
have been. When Peter grew in the apprehensions of the ends of the death
of Christ, he had no more those aspiring thoughts to think himself fit to
reprove his master, as when he had the first revelation of him to be the Son
of God, Mark viii. 29, 32, Mat. xvi. 13. Young scholars are most proud.
Duarenus * used to say, Those that come to the university the first year are
doctors in their own conceits, the second year licentiates, and the third year
students and learners. Not an apostle outstripped Paul in the knowledge of
God and Christ, nor came up to an equal measure with him ; nor did any
equal him in his humility, who sets himself upon record to the world as the
least of saints, and the chiefest of sinners. Christ, who lay in the bosom of
his Father, became a worm rather than a man, in making himself of no
reputation, Philip, ii. 7. In conformity to him, the more clear the revela
tions of God are to our souls, the more voluntary disannulments there are
of ourselves. The angels that have the nearest approach to the deity, and
the richest prospect of his glory, cover their faces with an awe ofhis majesty,
as if they did acknowledge the imperfection of their understandings, that they
are not more knowing ; and cover their feet too, which are the affections of
spiritual beings, as if they were ashamed that their love, delight, and zeal
were not more glowing. A great stock of natural knowledge debaseth a man
in his own eyes, because he apprehends his own weakness to get to the top
of that mountain he would reach by his inquiries. Socrates, who was the
most knowing man of his age, was sensible that he knew nothing, because
the more a man knows, the more he finds his own ignorance, and his ina
bility to shake it off ; and that the things he is ignorant of are more than
those which he seems to grasp in his understanding. Much more doth a
spiritual Christian see, that what he knows of God and Christ is inconceiv
ably less than what he is ignorant of. The more he knows those objects,
the more he knows his own defects, and his want of conformity to them.
Agur -was one of the wisest men of his age, whether he was Solomon, or
some other in the time of Solomon (which is more probable), yet counts him
self void of wisdom, ' more brutish than any man,' and not having the under
standing of a man ; as if he were not so wise and knowing as the vulgar sort,
as well as inferior to the more raised sort of mankind, as the words iy3
C}"NO signify, Prov. xxx. 2, 3 ; and he speaks it in reference to the knowledge
he had of God, as appears by verse 4. The more any man sees of God, the
lower he falls in his own eyes.
As this knowledge of God makes us more humble before God, so it makes
us more humble and meek to men. This was promised as a fruit of the
knowledge of God in the gospel. It was this should turn ravenous wolves
into gentle lambs, and render their natures as meek as before they were
cruel : Isa. xi. 6-9, ' The wolf shall dwell with the lamb, the cow and
the bear shall feed together, their young ones shall he down together, and
the lion shall eat straw like the ox ; for the earth shall be full of the know
ledge ofthe Lord.' It is such a knowledge as quells the pride of man, and
the injustice and oppressions and furies engendered by that fruitful principle.
The names whereby they are denominated are names of meekness, lambs,
kids, calves. Cruelty should grow mild, and inflexible tempers melt ;
ravenous dispositions be laid aside ; the nature of man towards God, and
the nature of man towards his neighbour, be changed. The kno-wledge of
Christ in the gospel pulls up such base affections by the roots, which would
else grow in an ignorant, unfilled heart, as weeds in an unmanured field.
If men, therefore, are ready to fall foul upon one another upon every occa
sion, they have not advanced many steps in the knowledge of God. For
* Walrus de Sabbat. Orat, in fine ii. p. 225.

56 chabnock's wobks. . [John XVII. 3.
this temper of humility is one effect of this divine light, it bemg rendered by
the prophet as the cause of such a muraculous change. Where there is not,
therefore, such a visible effect, there is nothing of the cause. The know
ledge of the Lord can no more be in the soul without humility, than the sun
can be in the heavens without dispersing its light on the earth, nor the
enlightening Spirit without meekness a fruit of it, Gal. v. 22. Wisdom
' changeth the boldness of the face,' Eccles. viii. 1, and spreads a modesty
in the soul ; he is thereby less apt to censure others, and more sparing in
his judging his brother. God hath a perfect knowledge of himself, and is
the highest pattern of humility : ' He humbles himself to behold the things
done in heaven and in earth,' Ps. cxiu. 6 ; much more is it his humihation
to solicit sinners, to bear patiently their affronts. None knew the Father
but the Son, who humbled himself to the flesh of man, and to death for him.
The angels also that excel in knowledge, as standing Isefore the face of God,
excel also in condescending ministries to men, who are more above the
greatest man in the dignity of their nature, than the greatest man upon the
earth can be above the meanest person by his education and dignity.
Well then, if this be an humbling knowledge, let us try ourselves by it,
whether we are arrived to it or no. He that hath not a melting heart hath
not been under the shinings of this sun. The darkness of pride will be
scattered by the strength and vigour of this light. The saving knowledge of
God and Christ crucified lays a man flat on the ground ; and the knowledge
of God reconciled, and Christ risen, doth both humble and revive. A proud
divine knowledge is as great a contradiction as to say, an humble diabolical
malice. 5. It is a weaning knowledge. It weans a man's heart from all things
below. Clear manifestations of God elevate the soul to God, when ignorance
of him depresseth the heart to one creature or other. The excellency of
God dims the beauty of the creature, and the true knowledge of this excel
lency sets the creature below God in the heart. It leaves no room for any
thing else, as the eye that hath gazed upon the sun admits not presently any
other image into it. This divine knowledge disparageth the value of anything
else, it represents sin vUe, and the world empty. It is such an inestimable
treasure, that it is not to be put in the balance with anything else. All other
things which carnal men esteem are but thin and airy notions to this know
ledge ; everything that hath a tincture of flesh and blood, human principles,
fleshly counsels, expire when this wisdom shines in upon the soul : Gal. i. 16,
' I consulted not with flesh and blood ;' nor can any man that hath found this
mine of gold leave it for a mite of brass. When Christ and his sweetness is
discerned and tasted, life is a torment, death a pleasure. Simeon upon his
sight of Christ desires to depart, since his ' eyes hid seen God's salvation,'
Luke ii. 29, 30 ; nothing in the world could be worth his desires after a
sight of the Redeemer. And Paul, who both had and valued the excellency
of the knowledge of Christ, esteems everything in the world no better than
dung, and longs to be dissolved, that he might be in his arms, Philip, iii. 8,
and i. 23. As when the sun appears in the heavens, it doth not only dis
cover itself, but discloseth all things on the earth ; so when God manifests
himself to the soul, he doth not only give the knowledge of himself, but
shews to us the true nature of other things, that they can bear no proportion
to the excellency of God and Christ, and bestows such a judgment and under
standing upon us, that we look upon things under other notions and con
siderations than before we did ; as men have other apprehensions of things
in the. light than they had in the darkness of the night. He doth not know
God, that doth not apprehend him to be more excellent than the withering

John XVII. 3. J the knowledge op god. 57
flowers of any creature whatsoever ; as he doth not love Christ that loves
him not above all creatures ; and he doth not worship God who worships the
creature equal with him, — Rom. i. 25, Tagci; xriaavTo,, worshipped the crea
ture, juxta creatorem, — so he doth not know God that knows him not to be
excellent above all creatures, and esteem him accordingly.
6. It is a fiducial knowledge, a knowledge of faith : Ps. ix. 10, ' They
that know thy name will trust in thee.' Faith and trust are the concomi
tants of this knowledge. Such will address to God in all their straits, and
rely upon his truth and goodness. And the spirit of wisdom is joined with
the acknowledgment of Christ, Eph. i. 17. Faith is principally meant by
knowledge in Scripture ; some therefore interpret the knowledge of Christ,
which is eternal life in the text, to be faith. No knowledge, indeed, without
faith can be eternal life, or the next way to it ; and by knowledge (Isa.
liii. 11, ' By his knowledge shall my righteous servant justify many ')
must be understood a believing knowledge, and cannot be understood other
wise. All that have a general knowledge of Christ, though never so high,
are not justified, for that excellent state the Scripture ascribes only to faith.
His knowledge, objectively, the knowledge of him, faith in him ; and faith is
called knowledge, because it is radically in the understanding, as liberty is,
but it is formally in the will. Not that the understanding is the proper and
sole seat of faith, because faith ia fiducia, trust or reliance, which is not an
act of the mind, but ofthe will. But faith is in the understanding in regard of
disposition, but in the will in regard of the fiducial apprehension ;* for faith
is not one simple virtue, but compounded of two, knowledge and trust. The
common subject is the heart, the special seat of each part is the understand
ing and will (yet those two parts cannot be separated but the nature of faith
is destroyed), as original righteousness was both in the mind and the will ;
and the happiness of heaven, which is but one entire happiness, consists
both in the acts ofthe understanding in contemplation, and the acts of the will
in the embracing the contemplated object ; but by knowledge or sight in Scrip
ture is principally meant faith. Abraham saw the day of Christ, John viii. 56,
and with such a sight as sprung up in joy ; he saw it in the promise ; he
knew it by way of energy in the propitiation of Christ, and virtue of his
Spirit ; he had the power of Christ's death in the mortification of his unbe
lief, before the death was felt by the Son of God upon the cross, and rose to
a new life by the virtue of Christ's resurrection, before Christ laid his head
in the grave. It was certainly a sight of faith ; for the Jews, to whom
Christ spake this, saw him with their bodily eyes, beheld his day, they saw
him personally face to face, and knew him in the flesh, yet were wholly
ignorant both of the excellency of his person and virtue of his offices. It is
one thing to know the nature of God, and another thing to know God in
covenant as our God. Of the Sidonians God said, ' They shall know that
I am the Lord,' Ezek. xxviii. 22. In a way of justice, they shall know that
I am of a righteous nature. But of his people Israel he saith, ' They shall
know that I am the Lord their God,' ver. 26 ; a God in covenant with them,
in whom they have an interest. It is an interested knowledge ; a relying
upon God in his covenant as theirs, according as the Scripture propounds
him. There is as great a difference between the common knowledge of God
in an unbelieving scholar and a beheving Christian, as between the know
ledge that a gardener hath of plants and flowers in his master's garden : he
knows how to dress them, knows the names and the nature of every particu
lar plant and flower there ; but though the knowledge of the owner of it doth
not extend to all those particularities, yet he knows it to be his, conveyed to
* Eivet. in Isa. liii. 11,

58 chabnock's woeks. [John XVH. 3.
him, and of right belonging to him, Another man delights in a beautiful
field and garden, pleaseth himself with the variety of the flowers and plea
sures of the walks ; the owner delights in it upon this account too, loves to
consider the nature of the trees and plants ; but he hath a knowledge of it,
and delight in it above the other's ; because of his property, he knows the
possession of it, and the commodities arising from it, to be his. This know
ledge is always with some glimmerings of hopes that God and Christ are
his, according to the tenor of the covenant. Though there be not a full as
surance, the title and evidence is not clear to him, and may seem to have
some flaw in it, which he hath not yet overcome, yet all true faith hath some
thing of comfort and hope with it,[for it is wrought by the Spirit as a comforter,
convincing of the sufficiency as well as the necessity of the righteousness of
Christ, upon which the soul in this saving knowledge flings itself, and fol
lows this glimmering, till he comes to a greater light, whereby to read his
own interest in Christ, as Paul did : Gal. ii. 20, ' Who loved me, and gave
himself for me.' Afterwards, indeed, there is a knowledge of feehng : 2 Tim.
i. 12, ' I know whom I have believed.' I have known him by faith, and I
know him by feehng ; I knew him to be good before, and therefore I trusted
him ; but since I know whom I have trusted, and have a rich experience of
him. [1.] There is no saving knowledge without this fiducial act. It properly
follows upon our espousals with God ; it is a knowledge after contract :
Hosea ii. 20, ' I will betroth thee unto me in faithfulness, and thou shalt
know the Lord ; ' and therefore must be a knowledge of faith. He that
hath no lively motions hath no life, he must have breath at least ; nor is
there any lively knowledge of the grace of God in Christ without vehement
desires at least after him, and unutterable believing groans. Can any man
know God in his wrath who doth not tremble at it, or any man know God
in his grace that doth not catch hold of it ? He knows him not that thinks
him not excellent enough to be the sole object of hia confidence and affiance.
No man that disparageth that which is truly excellent in itself can be said to
know the excellency of that thing. If I set up anything in the world as the
ground of my trust more than God, it is evident that I acknowledge a greater
virtue, strength, and power in that than in God and Christ, whom I
refuse, and may well be said not to know and imderstand the transcendent
goodness of him that I reject. Lay not, therefore, any claim to a know
ledge of God as almighty, infinite goodness, and tender bowels, if you resign
not up yourselves wholly to him : to his grace to pardon you, to his power
to relieve you, to the death of Christ to mortify sin, and that in his own
way, the way of his precepts, not in ways of our own invention and pre
sumption. But, alas ! do not many prop up themselves in some earthly
thing, as if there were no God in Israel to be sought unto ; strengthen
themselves in their own righteousness, as if there were no Mediator com
missioned and sent into the world ? Confidence in any other thing denies
the being of God, or if not that, yet it denies the excellency of God ; if not
that, the goodness of God; and so implies that there is no knowledge of God
as he is gracious and glorious in himself, because there is no trust in him.
I am sore afraid most of the knowledge of God and Christ we have in this
age is a mere notion of faith, without value, like a ring without the diamond.
He knows best that hath concocted in his heart what he understood in his
head. [2.] The highest rational knowledge of God cannot profit, without this
knowledge of faith. The general and common knowledge of Christ is but a
knowing after the flesh, not in the power of his Spirit, and can no more

John XVII. 3.] the knowledge of god. 59
advantage than the Jews' knowing him, or Judas his living with him, did
them or him without believing. In the Scripture, Christians are not called
knowing persons, but believers. It is a pleasure to a physician to consider
the nature of a medicine, and pierce into the quality of each ingredient in
it ; but if he be invaded by the disease for which that medicine is proper,
all hia knowledge of it and delight in it will be no support to his body,
unless he takes it and joins it in a close contest with the distemper. All
the pleasure he hath had in the search and contemplation of it, and the ex
perience of the strength of it upon his patients, will not check the malady of
his vitals, or stop the rage of the humour, though his knowledge were as
large as Solomon's, without application of the remedy. Christ is the remedy
for our spiritual diseases, faith is the application. A man is no more a
Christian by knowing the nature of God and Christ in a notional way, or
being able to unfold the mysteries of redemption in generous strains, than a
philosopher, who can discourse accurately of the nature of metals and jewels,
can be said to be rich, when he hath never a penny in his purse. The know
ledge entitles him to a natural wisdom, but the possession to wealth. If he
were a slave in the galleys, the riches of his knowledge would never strike
off the weight of his chains ; one jewel in possession to pay for his redemp
tion would be of more value than all his philosophy. And just such a per
son is he that delights in the knowledge of his bags and quantity of gold,
but makes not application of it to his present indigencies ; it is as if he had
none, but were the poorest beggar that craves an alms from door to door.
There is as great a difference between this notional and fiducial knowledge,
as there is between the knowledge of an angel, who comes under the wing of
Christ for hia confirmation in his happy estate, and the knowledge of a devil,
who rejected him as hia head, which is thought by some to be the devil's
sin. It is likely by Scripture it was pride, and probably it was pride of this
nature, as I may have occasion to shew in the prosecuting the doctrine of
unbelief. As the angels' knowledge of Christ being proposed as their head
could not have advantaged them without an act of consent to him, and
acceptance of him, answering to faith in us, as well as a knowledge (they
had not else come under his wing as rational creatures by an election and
approbation of him), so neither can our knowledge of him without an accept
ing of him.
[3.] The clearer a saving knowledge is, the stronger will be our faith and
confidence in God and Christ, and the stronger our faith, the stronger our
knowledge. As the more knowledge a physician hath of the nature of
simples, the more confidently wiU he apply them ; and the more he finds
their virtue in the application, the aurer knowledge of them he arrives unto.
The more we spiritually understand God, the more we shall trust him on his
own credit ; and this is properly faith. All the attributes of God are the
crutchea of faith, the bladders upon which faith swima. When we know the
strength of them, and are sensible of the sufficiency of them and our own
need, we shall with greater assurance rely upon them, as they are enga,ged
in his promises : hia wisdom, in making promises that he can accomplish ;
his faithfulness, in making promises that he will accomplish ; his power, in
being able to make good every tittle of his word. Not an attribute of God
but inspires faith with fresh vigour. And so the more we apmtually and
sensibly know the tenor of Christ's commission, the ends of his death, the
causes and ends ofhis resurrection and ascension, we shall the more will
ingly cast our souls upon that security, and draw sweetness by faith from
every flower in God's garden. The angels adore the goodness of God more
fervently than we can, and have a greater confidence in that goodness, be-

60 chabnock's woeks. [John XVII. 3.
cause their apprehensions of it are clearer, and their taste and experience of
it hath been stronger. The brightest needles move quickest, and stick
fastest to the loadstone. The clearer our knowledge, the cloaer our adher
ence. He that spiritually knows God and Christ, will rest upon God's bare
word with more stedfastness than if he had the strongest assurances of all
the princes in the world for a great estate.
7. It is a progressive knowledge, still aiming at more knowledge and
more improvements of it. Though the knowledge of God be at first infused
into us by the inspiration of the Spirit, yet neither that in the head, nor
grace in the heart, have their full strength at their first birth, but attain
their stature gradually. Natural knowledge, which is a common work of
God upon men, arrives not at its growth in a moment, but in a tract of time.
He that first found out the inclination of the loadstone to the pole did not
presently apprehend all the virtues of the loadstone, nor was able to sail
about the world by it, though this afterwards grew up from the first inven
tion. We go up a mountain step by step. Christ doth not perform all the
parts of his prophetical office at once ; there is a further declaration of the
name of God to succeed the first: John xvii. 26, ' I have declared thy name,
and will declare it, that the love wherewith thou hast loved me may be in
them.' And the ravishments by the virtue and influences of his second shall
exceed those of the first revelation, for those further declarations are accom
panied with greater manifestations of affection, and fuller communications of
divine love to the soul. Some things are too bright for the soul at the first
opening of ita weak eyes. Men at their first conversion have but glimpses
of things, as the man, Mark viii. 24, who saw ' men as trees walking,' till
Christ put his hand upon hia eyea, and made him see objects before him
more distinctly. Aa the stone from our hearts, so scales from our eyes, fall
off by degrees. No man is so wise but he may be wiser.
(1.) All true knowledge is alluring. The first sight of a mystery is trans
porting, and also alluring to a further inquiry : Prov. i. 5, ' A wise man will
bear, and will increase learning"; ' he will arise to more sublime thoughts
and diacoveries. He will be adding, as in arithmetic, figure to figure, till
he comes to a j'ust sum, deducing one rule from another till he come to the
utmost ; as the branch grows from the body of the tree, and one branch from
another. It is the nature of all true knowledge to sharpen the mind for
more. He that hath found a mine will follow the vein till he masters it.
The scholar that hath a taste of any curious learning will not leave the pur
suit till he hath pierced into the bowela of it, and by turning over books, and
stretching his thoughts, hath increased his stock. It is also the nature of
spiritual knowledge to put an edge upon the appetite, and open the under
standing wider, that it may be filled with more. The voice of it is that of
the grave, Give, give. The times of the gospel were promised to be inquisi
tive times : Dan. xii. 4, ' Many shall run to and fro, and knowledge shall be
increased.' A little knowledge of God doth not hush our desires, but awaken
them. The barbarous people, by tasting the fruits of Italy, were not at
rest till they saw and conquered the country. One taste of God and Christ
is to make us cry out, 'Evermore, Lord, give us this bread.' It is to enlarge
our appetite, not to dull and scantle it ; to engage us to make further in
quiries into ' the hope of his calhng, and the riches of the glory of his inherit
ance in the saints,' Eph. i. 16. They had a spirit of knowledge ; but the
apostle prays for further perfection in the knowledge of Christ, and a fuller
opening the eyes of their understandings to get into his secret things, and
behold more of his glory. It is as natural for a saving knowledge to press to
further attainments, as it is for a counterfeit knowledge to flag in its pursuit.

John Xvii. 3.J the knowledge of god. 61
(2.) It is utterly impossible that any man can have a saving knowledge of
God who stands at a stay in what he has, without any desires to make a fur
ther progress. As it is impossible faith or a full assent or consent to the
doctrine of the gospel can be without unutterable groans for the full applica
tion of the good things promised in it, so it is impossible this saving know
ledge can be without eager thirsting for a larger communication. He that
seeks not after more light never had any saving glimmerings of any in his
heart : Prov. xv. 14, ' He that hath understanding seeks knowledge, but the
mouth of fools feed on foolishness.' The seeking knowledge is a sign of an
understanding heart ; any man's feeding on foolishness is an evidence that
he understands nothing of the sweetness of a spiritual banquet. That mer
chant that is sensible of gain will increase his venture and desire richer
commodities ; the understanding heart will venture out for more spiritual
knowledge. As no man hath true grace who doth not make additions, and
rise to the exercise of those graces which are more spiritual, more the delight
of God and the beauty of the soul, ao neither hath he any taate of God and
Christ who doth not aspire and travel to more spiritual discoveries of his
glory. There is not only to be a knowledge, but a ' following on to know
the Lord,' Hos. vi. 3 ; a ' following hard after him' to see his glory, Ps.
Ixiii. 2, 8. He never tasted the sweetness of it that is cloyed with it, nor
ever understood the beauty of the prospect, that is not desirous to get up to
the top of the hill to pleasure his eyes with a full view. An acquiescence in
any degree is a sign the knowledge pretended is but a counterfeit, that God
is not the delightful and estimable object of his mind, that there is no expe
rimental acquaintance with him. Certainly, he that esteema him will desire
to he at his feet to receive his instructions, and will implore Christ for the
exercise of his prophetical office, which is as truly exercised by his Spirit in
the world, as it was in hia person in the days of his flesh.
First, This principle of aaving knowledge is an active principle. If it be
the light of life, a living and lively hght, it will by its activity proceed from
strength to strength, from dawn to daylight, from daylight to sunriae, and
from that to the meridian, Prov. iv. 18. The sun in a statue will stand like
a stock, but not the sun in the heavens. If, through the darkness of the
understanding, there is an alienation from the life of God, Eph. iv. 18, then
by an enlightened understanding there is an approach to the hfe of God.
Can partakers of the life of God stand at a stay ? Can we ever be like God
by ignorance and small measures of knowledge ? God cannot increase in
the knowledge of himself, because the knowledge of himself is, as himself,
infinite ; but that soul that is truly God-like aspires to as high a knowledge
of him as the creature is capable of. He hath no desire to take further steps
in grace, who doth not desire to thrive in the knowledge of Christ, which is
as the dew of grace.
Secondly, There is no conformity to Christ without a thirst after more
knowledge of God. Our Saviour grew in wisdom as he did in stature, Luke
ii. 52 ; not that Christ had any sinful ignorance, but the habits of wisdom
and knowledge infused into his human nature grew up to maturity according
to his natural growth. They are not his members that grow not proportion
ably to the head, and, being rational members, they must grow in knowledge
as well aa in strength. The image of God in the new creature doth partly
consist in knowledge, Col. iii. 10, yet it is not necessary to this conformity
that all should have an equal degree of knowledge. It is probable all in
heaven have not an equal vision of God, since there are different degrees of
glory ; yet the least degree of the vision of God there is with a perfect
conformity, and without the mixture of the least impurity. But there is no

62 chabnock's woeks. [John XVII. 3.
conformity here to Christ without some knowledge of him. Some grow
according to means and measures, and an ardent thirst for fuller manifesta
tions of him. Some think that in heaven there wiU be a constant proficiency
in tho knowledge of God ;* and why not, since finite is capable of additions
as numbers are of more units, which may be increased by adding, yet none
so great but may be made greater by addition of more to them ?
Thirdly, He can have no desire to enjoy God who doth not desire a clearer
knowledge of him. What desires can he have of fruition, who doth not delight
to know more of him whom he pretends he is willing to enjoy ? He hath no
mind to set foot in heaven, nor hath any notions of the happiness of that
place, whose affections are not enlarged to a further prospect of him who is
the sole essential happiness there. Whosoever hath had any taste of hea
venly pleasure, will endeavour to beautify his understanding with divine
objects, since part of the happiness of heaven consists in a perfection of that
faculty of the mind.
It is then certain that a knowing soul cannot be idle, but inquisitive ; spi
ritual knowledge is no leaa attractive than natural. When we come to a little
knowledge in those lower things, we are still aiming at more, as those that
found out new countries were still making more voyages to perfect their
inquiry. It is impossible that any that have tasted the saving knowledge of
God can rest in low measures, but they will be attempting a full discovery.
This progressiveness consists chiefly.
First, In a clearer sight of what was in part known; not so much exten
sively, in an increase of particular objects, as intensively, in a clearer view
and more spiritual apprehension of what we knew before ; as growth in grace
is not in new graces (for they are all included in the habit of grace first put
into the soul), but in a strength of each particular grace and the actings of
it. As a man that studies the nature of some particular grace, and the
actings of it. As a man that studies the nature of some particular creature,
by his search comes into a sight, not of new objects, but of more reasons of
things, and a clearer inspection into that which was the object of his know
ledge before. The knowledge in heaven consists not so much in the know
ing new objects as in knowing with an inexpressible clearness God and
Christ, whom we know but in a glass, and that darkly in the world, not in
an addition of new objects, but an accession to the degrees of our knowledge.
Secondly, It is a growth in estimation of the object, and strength of desires
for it. It is a certain rule in spirituals, as it ia in naturala, everything when
it moves regularly to its centre moves more swiftly towarda the end of its
motion ; so will the motion of the soul be in longings and thirstings after a
more full view of God and Christ, the nearer it comes to salvation. The
' soul breaks for the longings it hath to the judgments of God,' Ps. cxix. 20,
the methods of his wisdom ; one desire treads upon another ; he desires, and
is covetous for more longings for him ; he longs, and thinks he doth not
long enough. It grows in estimations of him : Ps. cxix. 72, ' The law of
thy mouth is better to me than thousands of gold and silver.' He values it
daily more and more above all the excrements of this earth.
Thirdly, It is not a growth or desire terminating in a notion of God, so
much as the fruits and proper intendments of that notion. It is a mystery
of faith and a mystery of godliness, a mystery to be known and mystery to
be practised. But the growth is in the mystery of faith, in order to a growth
in it as it ia a mystery of godhness, to know God for the ends for which he
is revealed, and Christ for the ends for which he was commissioned. It is a
desire for the way of God's precepts, Ps. cxix. 27, 33, not to indulge carnal
* Zanch. in Hos. vi. 3.

John XVII. 3.] the knowledge of god. 63
affections or an intellective curiosity, but to direct his paths and strengthen
him in his walk. A man in a journey desires not so much the knowledge of
the nature of the soil or of the fruits of the country, as the way of it, to
attain his journey's end. David, having a knowledge of God, and being
ravished with it, desires to be acquainted with the way to the fruition of
that whereof he had some sight ; hence he so often desires God to open
his eye, that he might behold him, and teach him the way that he might
attain to him. He that hath a delightful prospect of excellent buildings
and fruitful grounds which he may have the possession of, would have a
more accurate survey of them. The next step naturally is to desire to
know a way thither : Prov. i. 5, 'A wise man will increase in learning,'
nft^nn, the word signifies properly the mariner's art or pilot's skill in steer
ing a ship, or an acuteness in acting. A wise man will hear and increase
in learning, in order to improve what he knows for hia direction and steer
age in his course in the world, which is as a stormy sea, and needs care
and skill.
2. As there is a difference in the effects of this knowledge, so also in the
manner of it.
1. Saving knowledge is distinct. Though grace be not perfect, yet there
is an habit of grace, and all the parts of grace in the soul of a renewed man ;
so, though this knowledge be not perfect, yet there is a distinct view of God '
and Christ in all the necessary parts of knowledge. Another may know the
attributes of God, but he sees not the glory of them shining into the heart :
2 Cor. iv. 6, ' To give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God, in the
face of Jesus Christ.' It is a distinct view of God's perfections, in their
affecting glory ; of his wisdom, in contriving redemption ; his justice, in
punishing our surety ; his mercy, in bestowing pardon in his beloved one ;
and the beauty of his holiness in all : and of those a believer hath a distinct
apprehension in his mind, and a gracious and distinct impression of them
on his heart. He knows the nature of Christ, his offices, the fruits of his
death, and comforts of his resurrection, the cordials of his intercession, so
orderly as to make use of them in hia several exigencies, and have recourse
to each of them by faith in his distinct pressures. It is a shining into the
heart, as the sun upon the world at the creation, whereby Adam had a dis
tinct view of the creatures then formed ; and in the new creation, this
divine light breaks into the Soul, repaira the faculty, whereby there may be
a plain spiritual view of the glory of God, as figured in the appearance of
Christ. An owl. sees the light, but not distinctly that or anything by it, not
because there is want of light, but a want of a due disposition and strength in
the eye to discern it. It is a manifestation of God'a name, John xvii. 6.
God was more distinctly known by his name Jehovah among the Israelites,
than he had been in the world before, i. e. in the manifestations of his truth
and power in performing the promise of deliverance to them ; ao he is known
in Christ in fuller expressions, and more letters of hia name, than he was to
the Israehtes. The other knowledge is as the sight of a man in his picture ;
this, as the knowledge of a man in his person, whereby his lively disposition
and excellencies are discerned. It ia a knowledge by inward manifestation
and irradiation of the soul. The times of ignorance are called night and
darkness in Scripture ; in the night there ia no evidence of the trae figures
and colours of things. The time of divine diacovery ia called day, and light ;
and believers, ' light in the Lord ;' there is a plain appearance of the object
in ita excellency manifest to them, whereby they discern thinga that differ :
the difference between Christ and the world, grace and sin. It differs from
the knowledge of others, as the sight of a ship by an unskilful eye from that

64 chabnock's woeks. [John XVII. 3.
of the shipwright or pilot, who understands all the parts of the workmnn's
skill ; or the sight of a picture by a limner, and one ignorant of the art.
One sees the hidden pieces of art, the other the outward figure and com
posure. The knowledge of the Christian ia the work of the Spirit by special
grace, the other is the work of education and industry. A divine work is
more clear than a human. It is such a knowledge as the apostles had after
the Holy Ghost came upon them, and had dispelled their darkness, scattered
their shadows, and refined their minds, and made them see the counsel of
God in the sufferings of Christ, and behold the bottom of it with a divine
light ; whereas before, their knowledge was confused and feeble, they scarce
knew before he was to die : after hia death, they nnderatood hia sufferings,
but nothing of the true reason and design of them till the Spirit descended
upon them ; and, therefore, Christ tells them in the time of- his hfe, that
though he ' had been so long with them, they did not know him,' John xiv.
9. Unless the knowledge of God and Christ be thus distinct, it may stuff
the head, but not improve the soul.
2. It is a certain knowledge. Not a guess or imagination, but a real
thing, as if the soul had a perfect demonstration. It is surer than the know
ledge of the first principles or common notions in man ; surer than the per
ceptions of sense, or conclusions of reason. The knowledge of things we
have by experience depends upon the deceivable sense, which often needs the
correction of reason ; the knowledge we have by reason is uncertain, because
the mind of man ia often prepossessed with crooked notions, which cannot
be the rule to measure straight truths by. Reason is full of uncertainty, and
dubious ; and the more we know by natural reason, the more we doubt.
But this knowledge is more divine than any demonstration,* because it is
not founded upon human reason, but divine and infallible revelation, which
can neither deceive nor be deceived. It is by an inward sense and taste,
which renders a man more certainly intelligent of what he feels, than all men
in the world can be by a rational discourse -without a sense. Truth is inned,
and inlaid in the heart ; there is a plerophory and full assurance of know
ledge. Col. ii. 2. Other knowledge doth fiuctuate, and a man rather sus
pects that he sees, than see clearly,t which is rather an opinion of God and
Christ than knowledge, such as the philosophers had of natural things,
which they could not assure themselves whether it was clear science or
opinion. But saving knowledge is a solid and certain apprehension of the
object known. Hence, it ia called a aight of the glory of God with open
face, 2 Cor. iii. 18, an inteUectual and spiritual sight, ' the evidence of things
not seen,' Heb. xi. 1, 'i'kiyy^og ; such a conviction that brings a fulness of
light with it to clear the thing, and make the heart fall down under the
power of it, and nonplusseth all diaputefe against it. Aa the Spirit so strongly
convinceth of sin, as to arrest all objections and pleas, banish them out of
the heart of the sinner, so he strongly convinceth of the truth of God and
Christ, and chaseth away all the carnal reasonings, as the light of the rising
sun doth darkness before it. It is such an evidence that brings substance
along with it, ' the substance of things hoped for.' It evidenceth God and
Christ, and the things of God and Christ, to be substantial, sohd things, ahd
not imaginary notions and doubtful opinions. This waa promised in the
times of the , goapel : Isa. hi. 6, ' My people shall know my name ; they
shall know in that day that I am he that doth speak ; behold, it is I.' The
repetition of a thing in the Hebrew dialect shews the certainty of the thing
spoken of. They knew God by the prophets ; they should more surely
* Qsiors^ov r'l fTac*]? avo^it^sa,;. — Origen.
t Amyrald. Thes. Salmur, part ii. p. 91, thes, xxxvi.

John Xvu. 8.J the knowledge of god. 65
know him in the times of the gospel, in the greatness of the deliverance he
would work for them. It is clearer than the prophetic visions ; for it is a
sight that is produced by the dawning of the day, and the arising of the day-
star in the heart, 2 IJeter i. 19, which is meant of a knowledge of Christ in
this world, for in heaven the knowledge shall be by the light of the sun. It
is a knowledge here which is the forerunner of a full knowledge in heaven,
aa the day-star is of the rising sun. And Christ himself affirms to God this
certainty of knowledge, John xvii. 8, ' They have surely known that I came
out from thee,' which is more than a loose opinion. And, indeed, there is
nothing more sure to an opened understanding than a divine light, though
to an eye sore with sin the light is as imperceptible as the light of the sun
to the eyes of an owl.
(1.) The manner of this knowledge must bear some proportion to the ob
ject, and the manner of revealing it. As the object excels all other objects,
so the manner of knowing must be different from all other manner of know
ledge, and therefore more certain in what we know of it, by how much the
objects God and Christ are more excellent and real, the living God, and an
eternal Christ. It is not coined by flesh and blood, nor depends upon the
blindness of reason ; but it is from the Father which is in heaven, as well
as of the Father which is in heaven. Mat. xvi. YI ; ^ manifestation from
Christ, John xvii. 6, ' I have manifested thy name ;' a ' sure word ' where
by it is taught, 2 Peter i. 19, surer than all the maxims of the world. The
object is most real : God, the author of all being, the fountain of nature and
grace ; Christ, the band of the whole creation. The manner of revealing
was most certain ; the manner of knowing must be in some measure suitable
to the object known, and the way of its manifestation : the principles of
faith are more certain than those of any science.
(2.) It is wrought by the enlightening virtue of the Holy Ghost, and
therefore must be most certain. The knowledge of God, as well as faith, is
the gift of God, wrought in the soul by inspiration. God givea not errone
ous principlea to the creature. The debauchery of our reasons was not from
God originally, but from the lasting invasion of sin, and permitted by God
as a judge to continue for our punishment. This teaching ia by ' the Spirit of
truth,' John xiv. 17, 1 John ii. 27, who inwardly presents the exceUency of
God and Christ to the understanding, as the word doth to the ear, and that
not like a flash of lightning that gives a vanishing light, and after leaves us in
a worse darkness than it found us ; but he abides aa a Spirit of truth in all
the darkness of this world, for ' he dwells with you, and ahaU be in you.'
The instruction will be certain, till the Spirit prove an uncertain teacher.
It is his demonstration, and therefore powerful, 1 Cor. ii. 4, and surer than
any demonstration by reason, by how much the Spirit, the teacher of it, is
above all the reason in the world ; it is ' the Spirit that aearcheth the deep
things of God,' 2 Cor. ii. 9, 10, mysteriea above the ken of corrupted
reason, and hid in the secret place of the Most High, which are therefore
most precious, and of' the greatest reality and value. Since therefore this
knowledge is a fruit of divine teaching, and from an infinitely wise and in
fallible teacher, the soul of a believer is more assured of the reality of it than
it is of its own life and being. He knows by sense and reason that he lives,
but the knowledge he hath of God and Christ is by the Spkit, a principle
infinitely superior to both the other.
(3.) Saving knowledge is such a knowledge, for kind, as Christ had of God.
The words and declaration of God, which God gave to him, he gave to his
disciples, John xvii. 8. The knowledge Christ as man had of God is com-
VOL. IV. E

66 ohaenock's woeks. [John XVII. 3.
municated to a believer, in the kind, though not in the same measure. And
herein doth consist partly our conformity to Christ ; the soul is conformed
to Christ in all the parts of it. It consists not in the repair of one faculty,
for that would be but half a resemblance. It would be monstrous for the
will to be conformed to Christ, and the understanding to the devil ; the will
to be acted by grace, and the understanding possessed by nature. It cannot
indeed be supposed in tl e order of natural operationa, how the will can have
an holy conformity to Christ, tUl the understanding hath an inteUigent con
formity to him. As the will is made like the wUl of Christ, so the mind is
enlightened in a similitude to the mind of Christ ; that as Christ is in the
heart the ground of the hope of glory, so he is in it the guide of the mind :
Philip, ii. 5, 'Let this mind be in you which was alao in Christ Jesus ;'
1 Cor. ii. 16, ' But we have the mind of Christ.' ' The spiritual man
judgeth all things,' because he understands the mind of '_hrist ; because his
mind is informed and enlightened by that Spirit which illuminated the human
mind of Christ. And needs must he judge as Christ did, who hath not only
a knowledge of the doctrine of Christ, but a mind acted by the same Spirit
of Christ, and suited to the mind of Christ, and hath such notions and
piercing insight into the things of God, for the kind, aa Christ had. I will
not say that this is the sense of the place, though something of that nature
seems to be included in thf manner of the apoatle'a argument, or may be in
ferred from thence. We nt, y be aaid to know aa Christ doth, as we are said
to be holy as Christ is holy , in regard of likeness, as the light of the stars
and sun are true light, have a likeness one to the other, and are of the same
kind, yet the light in the sun is more full and clear than that in the stars.
As there will at the last day be a glory of the body like to the glorious body
of Christ, Philip, iii. 21 ; and a glory of the soul much more like to the soul
of Christ ; so there is an initial likeness to Christ in each faculty in every
renewed man. Now as Christ's knowledge of God was certain, and the
knowledge of himself was certain, so this sa-ving knowledge of God and
Christ ih a true believer is as certain, for the measure of it in this world.
And though there be doubts and waverings in the hearts of believera, yet
they do not respect the object, the nature of God and Christ, and the ends
of his death, but are in regard of the subject, and an interest in those glori
ous things. Now though this knowledge be imperfect, yet it is certain in
every believer. They know, though it be but in part, 1 Cor. xiii. 12, and
that which they know is certain. There is certainty in star-light as weU as
in sun-light, though the light le not ao much. ' We see through a glass
darkly.' It is a certain sight, though not clear, because the organ is not
fully fitted for it. Every true behever can say, as those, John vi. 69, ' We
believe, and are sure, that thou art that Christ, the Son of the living God.'
Before the light of the knowledge of God broke in savingly upon him, he h»d
doubtful notions of those things, he counted them as shadows, discoursed ' *
them because the rest of the world uid, and because he had been brought up
that way, yet without any aavour ol them. He knew not whether he knew
or no, as Paul, whether he was in cr out of the body. But since, he be
holds such a clearness and reahty m the mysteries of the goapel, that he is
more confirmed in the certainty of them than of any in the world. There
is light shot in, which carries its own evidence with it, and is too bright to
be nonplussed by the darkness of reason. The things of God and Christ
are discerned in the head, and reahsed in the heart.
(3.) It is a firm knowledge. Some have a floating knowledge of God.
Truth in their mind doth dance aa the image of the sun or stars in a pail,
according to the motion of the water. Truth and error are like a pair of

John XVII. 3.] the knowledge of god. 67
scales, sometimes up and sometimes down. But as true faith, so saving
knowledge, is stedfast like a needle, sticking to the loadatone without
wavering : Col. ii. 5, ' Stedfastness ofour faith,' eTe^iii/,ta, firmamentum fidei,
firmament of faith, as stable as the heaven and heavenly bodiea keeping their
constant stations and courses, and admitting nothing heterogeneous into
them. It is but a shadow of knowledge which halts between two opinions.
The knowledge of Christ being admitted upon the highest account frames
the soul into an acquiescence in it. It ia ' an unction from the holy one,'
1 John ii. 20, which, aa it opens, so it fortifies the understanding. It is an
habit : Heb. v. 14, ' Who by reason of use ;' by reason of habit, in the
Greek. The faculty ia firm, and can never be totally vitiated ; though it
may, as the natural taste, be impaired by some diseased humour tincturing
the palate, yet it returns again to its former temper. It is such a know
ledge that keeps men in a way of righteousness, and prevents them from re
turning to be swine. It makes them see the mire to loathe it, and the purity
of God to love him. They that are taught of God, depart not from his truth :
Ps. cxix. 102, ' I have not departed from thy judgments : for thou hast
taught me.' The psalmist renders God's teaching him as a reason why he
did not depart from God's judgments. Therefore that knowledge of God,
which is taught by God, is an establishing knowledge, not a volatile, airy
thing, such as children have, which are ' carried away by every wind of
doctrine,' Eph. iv. 14, tossed to and fro between one passion and another,
rather than between one reason and another ; but a settling ballast, auch as
the martyrs had who were slain for the word of God, the divine Xo'yof , and
the testimony they bore to his person and offices, which they held, and held
as an undoubted truth, Rev. v. 9. They held the transcript of God and
Christ imprinted on their hearts firm, aa a marble doth the letters engraven
on it ; the other sort of knowledge is fading, as easily blotted out as letters
upon sand with the next wind. In the one there is only a taste of ' the
powers of the world to come,' of the death and resurrection of Christ, which
are the powers of the age of the Messiah, which was caUed by the Jews the
world to come, Heb. vi. 5 ; the other is aa a constant aight in the heart, as
firm aa a graft in the stock, which becomes one with it ; not only a light of
truth, but a love of truth ; notions spring into the mind, and love stands
ready to set and root them. If any man therefore pretends to a knowledge of
God, and withdraws from him to the things of thia world, and the miry ways
of sin, he knew no more of God than a swine doth of the cleansing bath ; he
discovers a greater hatred of God, for whensoever any good is forsaken, after
it is pretended to be known, it shews a greater detestation of it and desire of
disunion from it. Whatsoever therefore the pretences of apostates are, they
never knew God, because God is so lovely in all his perfections, that it is
impossible for any soul that knows him not to love him, and cleave to him.
(4.) This saving knowledge of God and Christ is, in all the affections
which attend it in the soul, unexpresaible. The affections rising from it are
unexpressible by the soul that feels it ; all words are below the sense, as a
spark is below the brightness of a flame. In common things we find often
a secret power excite a liking or dislike in our mind which we cannot fully
discover to others, either in the greatness of the pleasure or abhorrency
which ia in ourselves. The natural affections we have to something admit
of no expression, much less the spiritual affections. A friend that you know
and love dearly, whose virtues you admire, you can never discover so ex
quisitely in his endowments as that another should admire and love him with
an affection equal to what you bear to him. Who can imagine the depth of
David's sense in his contemplations of God under those spiritual strains he

68 chabnock's woeks. [John XVII. 8.
clothes himself with in his Psalms, unless he felt the same inward transports
aa David did ? Who can underatand the exquisite satisfaction our Saviour*
had in his thoughts of his Father, in his addresses to him, and obedience to
hia will, unless he could be equal to him in all those ? It ia the same thing
in spiritual as in natural knowledge. No man can understand the delight
a scholar takes in his inquiries into some curious learning, but he that hath
had a taate of the same pleasure himself, no more than a man can under
stand the heat of fire that never felt it. Paul, in hia revelationa, heard
' words unspeakable ' in their own nature, as weU as ' unlawful for him
to utter,' 2 Cor. xii. 4. Nor can any conceive the inward ravishments
of a soul in the meditations of God and Christ, who never had a spiritual
view of the excellency of those ravishing objects.
Use.
I. Information.
1. See the insufficiency of all other knowledge to eternal happiness. Other
sciences are shadows of wisdom ; this a sound wisdom, Prov. iii. 21, referring
to the study of the wisdom of God. All other kind of knowledge delights a
man at present, help him to pass his life with some comfort, but gives not
a drop of balsam at the hour of death for any spiritual wound, or the least
cordial dram for a drooping soul ; whereas this sound wisdom is a treasure
of things new and old, to support under any calamity. It will keep us from
being afraid of sudden fear, or of the desolation of the wicked when it
comes, for the Lord, that is savingly known, shall be our confidence, and
keep our feet from being t^iken, Prov. iii. 24-26.
(1.) Skill in the affairs of the world, and arts useful to human societies,
first appeared in the seed of the serpent and the idolatrous generation of the
world. The posterity of Cain, the head of the unbelieving world, are uppn
record in Scripture for such inventions. When his generations are reckoned,
there is Jabal who first invented the art of ordering cattle, and Jubal his
brother, the inventor of music, and Tubal Cain, the first artificer in brass and
iron. Gen. iv. 20-22. No such remark set upon the children of Seth,
reckoned, Gen. v. 21, 22 ; only Enoch's walking with God, and Lamech's
prophecy of Noah, as if he had been the promised seed ; their minds were
taken up with that knowledge which fitted them for a better life. The
knowledge of the Greeks, whence the choicest learning was transmitted to
Europe, was derived from Phoenicia to Egypt, the one the posterity of
Canaan, the other also of Ham, both eminent for idolatry.
(2.) Christ never directed men in the knowledge of any thing but of God.
He never took flesh, nor laid it down, to make us philosophers or artificers,
skilful in the affairs of the world or knowing in political concerns, but to
purchase for us the knowledge of the mysteries of heaven and sanctifying
grace ; he was a prophet to manifest the name of God, not the nature of
creatures. He came, not to instruct us in the nature of the elements, the
reason of natural motions, to inform us of the nature of the stars and
heavenly bodies, but the nature of God, the designs and methods of his
grace. The teaching worldly skill was too low for the grandeur of his pro
phetical office, and should be too low for our choicest consideration, but
only in order to the enlarging our faculties for more clear apprehenaiona or
illustrations of divine knowledge, to be foundations for spiritual meditations,
and more sensible perception of heavenly truth. Our Saviour knew all the
secrets of nature, the usefulness of human arts to the comfort of the world,
but never recommended any of them as sufficient to happiness. Nor after
his resurrection, in his discourses with the disciples, did he acquaint them
with the curiosities of paradise or the orders of angels, but with the pro-

John Xva.i. a. J the kno,wledge op god. 69
phets, concerning himself and ends of his death, and resurrection, and glory
in heaven, ^Luke xxiv. Had those been sufficient or necessary means, the
Scripture had been fuU of natural demonstrations, it had been a book of
nature, instead of a book of grace. It was not the design of it to render
men scholars, but Christians ; and though there be many exceUent sprink
lings of natural learning in divine writ, they are occasionally set down to
lead us to the understanding the nature of God, and our own duty, the two
states of man, his misery by sin, and his happiness by grace. And there
fore, to rest in that which God never rested in, Christ never taught or
admired, to rest in that which devils and wicked men are all acquainted with
and are no enemies unto, can never render a soul happy.
(3.) It can never of itself help us to the knowledge of divine things. A
man with treasures of other knowledge in his head may have, and often have,
hearts insensible of the beauty of God and exceUency of Christ. It may
make a man higher, by head and shoulders, than other men, but never
make him like to God. The highest inteUectuals, without those saving
apprehenaiona, are biit peacocks' feathers with black feet ; they ean no more
purify the soul than the blood of buUs and goats could atone our sins. The
understanding the intricacies of nature, and the most ingenious mysteries in
the world, and a connection of all the most useful worldly sciences, cannot
advantage our spiritual and eternal happiness, because the things themselves
which are the objects of that knowledge cannot do it. The knowledge of a
thjng cannot do more than the thing known can do. If the bowels of nature
and moral truth were as open to any of us as they are to the highest angel,
nay, had we an understanding of all divine as well as human mysteries,
without this affectionate knowledge it would render ua just nothing : 1 Cor.
xiii. 2, ' Though I have the gift of prophecy, and understand all mysteriea
and all knowledge, and though I have aU faith, so that I could remove
mountains, and have no charity, I am nothing.' Of no account before God.
A man may be theologically knowing and apirituaUy ignorant. Nicodemus
was none of the lowest sect, a pharisee, nor of the lowest form among
them, a ruler among them, had the knowledge of the law above the vulgar,
yet was ignorant of the design of the Messiah, and the mystery of the new
birth. A man may be excellent in the grammar of the Scripture, yet not
understand the spiritual sense of it. As a man may have ao much Latin as
to conatrue a physician's bill, and tell the names -of the plants mentioned
in it, yet underatand nothing of the particular virtues of thoae plants, or
have any pleasure in the contemplation of them, so we may discourse of
God, and the perfections of God, and the intendments of the great thinga of
Christ, without a aenae of them. Though this be a good preparatory to a
spiritual knowledge, yet it is insufficient of itself without some further addi
tion. It doth not heal the soul's eye, nor ohaae away the spiritual darkness.
' In much wisdom is much grief,' Eccles. i. 18. In this wisdom only there
is the choicest pleaaure.
(4.) It often hurts and hinders men from the saving knowledge of God
and Christ. The wisest men are not always the disciples of Christ, but
many times enemies to him ; the most ingenious men have often been the
most malicioua and ingenious devils. Natural wisdom is most apt to
count divine wisdom foohshness, 1 Cor. i. 21, 23 ; a hatred of Christ often
perks up under it. The greatest philosophers in the primitive times were
the sharpest enemies to Christianity, and while they were intent upon
human wisdom, they counted divine revelation no better than a fable, and
scorned to ait at the feet of divine revelation, which agreed not with their
own idohsed principles. Unaanctified wisdom is the devil's greatest tool.

70 chabnock's wobks. [John XVII. 3.
The serpent was more subtle than any beast of the field, and this creature
is culled out by the devil to be the instrument of the first seduction of man
kind. The affectation of a knowledge not due to Adam brought a cloud upon
Adam and his posterity, and separated him from the knowledge ofhis Creator,
which was to be his sole happiness. The intent poring upon red hot iron,
or other metals, blinds the eye, and hinders it from seeing the sun, or any
thing else by it. Too much intenseness in carnal wisdom dims the eye to
spiritual objects. The common people knew Christ, and thirsted for the
knowledge of him, Mark xii. 37, when the uiteUigent pharisees were as spi
ritually blind as bats, and so wicked as to boast of their unbeheving igno
rance, and set it as a pattern fqr the people : John vii. 48, 49, ' Have any
of the rulers, or of the pharisees, believed on him ? But this people, who
know not the law, are cursed.' Upon which account it is remarked by the
evangelical historian as a matter of astonishment, that ' a great number of
the priests were obedient to the faith,' Acts vi. 7. It is better to have a
little of that knowledge which conducts to a Redeemer, than much of that
which puffs up, and makea you awell too big for a mediator.
Well, then, let not other knowledge swaUow up your pursuits after this.
Other knowledge is useful, a gift of God, but it ia the handmaid, not the
mistress. It must not thrust out that which is more noble ; the hght of a
candle equals not that of the sun. The angels are not said to bend a look
into natural thinga, though they exactly know the order of them ; but it is
their employment, as well aa their happiness, to stand before God, to view
his face, to inquire into the things of Christ. That which angels most affect,
should be the affecting object of our souls, which differ in their spiritual
nature but little from that of an angel. Other knowledge will die with our
bodies, this will live with our aouls ; that vanisheth with our breath, and
this is perfected in glory. That rendera us not happy, it doth not satisfy
our curiosity ; it is stone instead of bread ; it strikes not off one link from
the chain of spiritual darkness in us ; it is no fortification against death and
hell. But divine knowledge satisfies our desires, nourishes the soul, is bread
to our hunger, light to our eyes, music to our ears, a cordial to our hearts,
and the womb of it is full of nothing but fehcity. In short, it is the hght ol
life, spiritual, eternal, the other at best but the light of a natural and
temporary life. Let not, therefore, the itch of onr curiosity, wherewith
Adam hath infected us, stop our ears aginat the instructiona of God. Let
none of us for a fading delight lose that which is solid and substantial. We
shall be like that person, that while he was busy in contemplating heavenly
bodies, tumbled into a ditch ; and we, while we aim only at skill in other
things, fall into an eternal ignorance ofthe most lovely and necessary objects.
IL Information. We see here the order of God's working, if knowledge
be a necessary means. First knowledge, then grace ; first knowledge, then
that life which is eternal. No house can possibly be built without a foun
dation ; the groundwork first, then the superstructure. Illumination leads
the way, and the inclinations of the will follow. God doth not cross the na
tural order of the faculties in his operations, though he doth their corrup
tion. He leads men by the cords of a man, by thoae natural obligations on
him he makes use of in his way of working ; expels darkness, to make
room for light ; opens the understanding, thereby to incline the wUl ; recti
fies the prejudicate opinions of God and Christ, his ways and methods.
None can be a priest to offer spiritual sacrifices to God, tiU he be a prophet
to discern what is fit to offer to him. An approbation of thinga that are
excellent, and sincerity in the practice, is founded upon knowledge and judg
ment, Philip, i. 9, 10. The new nature is conveyed by the knowledge of

John Xvii. 3.j the knowledge of god. 71
God and Christ, Col. iii. 10. As ignorance and error were the deformity of
the old man, so wisdom and knowledge are the first line in the beauty of the
new. The .-:-st draught of God is in the mind, and thence terminates in the
will. Nath„4ael had a false notion of Christ ; he was possessed with the
opinion of the scribes, the doctors of the law, that no prophet could come
out of Nazareth, John i. 46 ; that the people of that place were contemptible
in the eye of God, because no prophet had risen from thence, since pro
phecy was first in the church. But Christ acquaints him with something
divine in himself, by telling him his motions, what he did under the fig-
tree, ver. 48, convinced him of the foUy of his former notions, discovered to
him the truth of his prophetical office, acquaints him with undeniable argu
ments for his information ; then his will and acknowledgments orderly fol
low : ' Rabbi, Thou art the Son of God, thou art the King of Israel,'
ver. 49. None are enlivened tiU they be first enlightened by Christ. He
is not life to any without being hght in the mind : John i. 4, ' The hfe was
the hght of men.'
IIL Information. The excellency of a true Christian. The best Christian
is the beat scholar ; he hath a knowledge in the issue equal to that of the
angels, superior to that of devils, more effectual than that of the greatest
philoaopher : Prov. xvii. 27, ' A man of understanding is of an excellent
spirit.' ' The Spirit of the holy God is in him, and light and excellent
wisdom,' as was spoken of Daniel, Dan. v. 11, 14. It is a light flowing
from the fountain of light, a fruit of divine teaching and divine touch ; a
true hght, John i. 9 ; more valuable than aU the trifling sceptical know
ledge in the worlJ, The meanest behever knows, if not more, yet better than
the brightest stai that feU from heaven. What others see by candle-light, he
sees by the light of the sun ; what is hidden to others is open to him ; what
others have a natural understanding of, he hath a spiritual, Col. i. 9, eungig
•7rn\iiLa,Tiyi,rj. The publicans who heard the' excellent discourses of Christ
concerning the nature of the Father, and the design of his coming into the
world, were more excellent than the pharisees, who knew the same divine
revelation, but had no affection stirred in them but that of anger against the
publisher. The spiritually knowing Christian can discern God in his word
better than others can in aU his creatures. He practiseth what he knows.
The exceUency of a. drag Hes not so much in its quality, as in the operation
of that quality. We measure the excellency of things, not by the outward
appearance, but the nobleness and usefulness of their effects. , The mean
ness of a Christian doth not so much disparage him, as the exceUency of
divine knowledge ennobles him. He hath a soul truly God-like, that knows
God with a conformity to him. The sun shining upon a body, and the body
reflecting the beams of the sun, render it lovely, though low in itself.
The knowledge of a Christian is, by inward and close revelation, attended
with strong and high reflections. Others know the matter of the gospel, a
Christian knows the mystery of the gospel. The strongest natural know
ledge is not proportionable to divine things, and therefore renders not the
soul aa exceUdUt aa the spiritual knowledge of God. The one fits men for
converse with man ; the other for communion with God in this and another
world. IV. Information. How sad is it for men to abuse to wrong ends the
means of knowledge, which m itself is eternal life. As men turn grace into
wantonness, so they turn knowledge into rebellion ; as men will run many
scores in debt because grace is free, so some will run more eageriy to sin
because they know God is merciful in Christ, and use then: knowledge for
an encouragement to sin. This is a monster composed of a Christian's

72 chabnock's woeks. [John XVII. 3.
head, and a swine's heart; an angel's wings, and a serpent's body. This is
like Belshazzar, to quaff healths in the vessels of the temple. To use it
weU for gracious ends, is like Solomon, to melt down the gold of Ophir for
the service of God, and work it into vessels for the sanctuary. How many
are there that are angry with the knowledge they have, and the means to
get more, because they cannot be at ease in their sins ? Their lusts are
enraged, while their consciences are enlightened. The devil's knowledge is
so far from assuaging his malice, that it increaseth hia fury. They know
God aa a judge, but regard him not as amiable and worthy to be imitated.
The knowledge many phUosophers had in the times of the gospel's shine,
waa BO far from enablmg them, becauae of their corruptiona, to see the beauty
of those discoveries, that they were rather excited to oppose the gospel prin
ciples with more stoutness of heart, that it might be truly aaid of them, as
Isa. xlvii. 10, ' Their wisdom and their knowledge perverted them.' It is
base to turn the means of the knowledge of God into the service of the devil.
It ia good when we use them to check us in sin, to wean us from it, and ren
der God more lovely and desirable to our souls. God's discoveries of him
self are not that he may be abused, but that he may be loved. He shews
himself in his goodness, which is his glory; the end of goodness is to attract
our affections, not to excite our enmity.
V. Information. If the knowledge of God and Christ be the necessary
means to eternal life, how deplorable is that want of this necessary know
ledge of God which is among us ! How lamentable are the cataracts bred
in the eye of onr understanding by the power of the flesh ! Nicodemus*
could not understand the first principles of Christianity, though he had been
educated in the church, studied the law, had an honourable notion of Christ,
was affected with hia miracles, and was instructed in the principles of Chris
tianity by the mouth of truth itself. How great is our blindness in the
things of the kingdom of God ! The knowledge many men have of Christ
is a knowledge of hia outaide, not of his spiritual nature and excellency, so
as to rehsh him. The notions of the goodness of God, and salvation by
Christ, are transporting doctrines ; men are pleased with them aa children
are with the pictures in a philosopher's book, without studying or knowing
anything of the inward sweetness and learning in it ; without prying into,
and being aavourily affected with, the mysteries of the gospel. They have
a knowledge of God and Christ by report, as men have of a famous prince,
without any acquaintance, and happy famUiarity with him ; as defective in
thia true knowledge as a ploughman is in the principles of astronomy. Most
men's hves are a dream ; they profess religion, account themselves happy in
that profession, content themselves with some self-pleaaing fancies and
notions, without distinct inquiries into the truths of heaven. How sad is it
to have eyes, and not know the sun ; to have understandings, and not know
that which is only worthy to be known ; and not see God, who is aa visible
by his word and works as the sun by its light ! The irrational creatures
outstrip ns in the sense of what concerns the good of their nature ; the crane
and swaUow, the ox and ass, are better proficients in the good belonging to
their nature, than corrupted man in what is necessary for his happiness,
Jer. viii. 7, Isa. i. 3.
1. This ignorance is natural. It was the glory of man in his creation
to have the knowledge of God. The goodness of the creatures, which God
beheld in them after they were formed by him, consisted in their natures
and qualities suitable to them. If other creatures had qualities suitable to
their natures, the noblest creature could not be defective. If man had betn
* Daille sur Jean iii.

John Xvil. 3.] the knowledge of god. 73
created with an ignorance of God, he could not have been good, under that
which is the deformity of a rational nature. But since the crack by the fall,
there is not a man that by nature understands God, or knows him to seek
him. God, in his exact search in the world after its pollution, found not a
man but was as ignorant as he was corrupt : Ps. xiv. 2, 3, ' The Lord looked
down from heaven upon the children of men, to see if there we»e any that
did understand, and seek God ;' and the result is, that they were ' aU gone
aside ; they were altogether become filthy ; not a man that doeth good, no,
not one.' Not a man without blindness in his understanding, aa well as
filthiness in his wiU and practice ; which, lest it should be thought to be
meant only of a particular deluge of corruption pecuhar to that age, the
apostle expounds it aa a charge againat the whole world, comprehended in
Jews and Gentiles, Rom. iii. 9-11. We are no more born with a saving
knowledge of God in our heads and hearts, than with a skill in philosophy
and mathematics ; no, nor so much, for we bring into the world a faculty
capable of them by ordinary instruction, but uncapable of the other without
special illumination. The eye is born quite blind to spiritual, but purblmd
only to natural, knowledge. It is as possible to read the law in tables of
stone after they are pounded to dust, as to read true notions of God and
Christ in lapsed nature. This ia exceUently deacribed by the apoatle : Eph..
iv. 17, 18, ' Vanity of the mind, darkness in the understanding, and blind
ness ofthe heart.' The essential faculties of the rational soul : the mind,
the repository of principles, the faculty whereby we should judge of things
honest or dishonest ; the understanding, the diacursive faculty and the re
ducer of those principles into practical dictates, — that part whereby we reason
and collect one thing from another, framing conclusions from the principles
in the mind ; the heart, i. e. the wiU, conscience, affections, which were to
apply those principles, draw out those reasonings upon th6 stage of the life,
all corrupted, — one vain, the other dark, and the third stark blind. And
the most ingenious nations for natural knowledge and civil prudence verify
the apostle's character in their brutish actions.* The Egyptians, that were
men famed for their knowledge, and derived the sciences to the other parts
of the world, were worse than beasts in their worship. The Greeks, who
counted their Athens the eye of the world, were not more refined, when they
adored thirty thousand gods, and some of them infamous for murder and
adultery, and had three hundred and twenty- four several opinions about the
chief good ; and the Romans, eminent for civil prudence, were not much
behind them, when they worshipped a fever, and dignified a strumpet with
the title of the goddess of flowers. A great philosopher among them takes
notice of this ignorance of God in the various notions they have of him.f
If you ask an artificer, a poet, a philosopher, a Scythian, a Persian, what
God is, you will not find them all of the same opinion. Even those among
the heathens, who for acts of juatice and temperance might put men under
the goapel to the blush, have had a thick darkness upon them in regard of
God. They saw not ' the bright light which is in the clouds,' Job xxxvii. 21.
The knowledge of God hath been aa much out of their ken as those moral
virtues were in their practice. And the proneness of men to idolatry in
former ages, while the most intelligent persons in the nature and ways of
God were living among them, discovers the greatness of men's natural igno
rance. The posterity of Noah in the world were overspread with it, while
Noah, Shem, and Heber, the father of the Hebrews, were living among them,
from whom they heard other instructions. For Noah died in the fifty-seventh
year of Abraham ; Shem and Heber after Abraham's death ; the one thirty-
-* Moulin, Dec. i. serm. Z, pp.. 75, 76. f Maximus Tyrius, Dissert, i. sect. 3.

74 chabnock's woeks. [John XVII. 8.
five, and the other fifty-four years after, aa is gathered from Scripture chro
nology.* This natural ignorance is in all men by nature ; so that Paul had
good reason to say that ' the natural man' (which state we are all in as we
are bom) ' receives not the things of God,' 1 Cor. ii. 14. Every man is
born with a veU upon his heart, and spiritual things cannot be discerned by
a faculty spiritually depraved. Thia is partial in good men ; they have a
light in their minds, but obscure. They know but little of God, nor can
ever know him to the utmost, nor search him out unto perfection, because
he is infinite. And thia is in some more, in some less, according to the
acuteness or dulness of their natural capacities, their various diverting
employments and conditions in the world ; or according to the variety of the
means of knowledge, which may be in one place more than in another. Some
parts of the world have not the sun in that beauty and strength as it is in
others. The beat Christian heart, in comparison of what it should be, is a
land of darkness, not a fully enhghtened Goshen. Since original sin hath
dealt with us as the Phihstinesjwith Samson, put out our eyes, they are
cured but partially in this world ; the perfection ia reserved for another.
2. This natural ignorance among men under the gospel is vrilful. Many
have no desire to know what they ought to know of God, that their con
sciences may not press them to do what they know. They hoodwink them
selves, and close their eyea against the light of the glory of God, that they
might not see the filthy puddle and hideous deformity of their own hearts.
That knowledge which is the ornament of the soul they account the torment
of their conscience ; are wilfully ignorant, that they may be destroyed more
pleasantly, and with less fear. How epidemic is this ! The light shines
upon the head, yet shines into few hearts ; ia no more regarded by men than
pearla by a swine. It is a disparagement to be ignorant in a man's proper
art ; not counted so to be defective in this, which is of absolute necessity.
Other ignorance is condemned, and this affected. ' The world by wisdom
knew not God,' 1 Cor. i. 21. The understanding and natural wisdom is
employed in any vile service, rather than inquiries after God, and with more
delight entertains a natural discovery than a divine revelation.
(1.) Men are commonly contrary to it. The imaginatiots which lift up
themselves againat the knowledge of Chriat are the darlings ; a mighty un
willingness to have them pulled down and razed to the ground, 2 Cor.
X. 5,6. We have not only an ignorance at our birth, but a stubbornness
joined with it. ' A wild ass's colt ' ia the best term the Scripture gives us.
Job xi. 12. The wild asa is the most untamed and unteachable creature. f
No beast is more brutish and ignorant than a child at its birth ; nor any
vvild creature kicks more against the tamer than man against the instruc
tions of his Creator. The natural notions of God men are not willing natu
rally to cherish ; they would raze out the engraven letters ; but since they
are so deeply impressed as not to be obliterated, they fiU the characters with
dirt, keep them by unrighteousness from being legible, that they may be
secure in the practice of their unworthy principlea : Rom. i.,28, they ' like
not to retain God in their knowledge.' The beama of an heavenly light are
offensive to men ; like wUd beasts, which run from the rising sun into their
dark dens. A deaf ear and a stout heart are evident testimonies of an affec
tion to darkness and disaffection to hght, John iii. 19. There is a natural
' loveto a lie : ' 2 Thess. ii. 11, ' For this cause God shaU send them strong
delusions, that they shaU beheve a lie.' When God gives men up to a lie,
he makes no impression of a he upon them, aa he doth of truth and divine
knowledge in the illumination of the Spirit, but gives up a man to himself,
* Vossii Histor. Pelag. lib. iii. part iii. sect. 6, p. 365. f Mercer.

John Xvii. a.j the knowledge op god. 75
withdraws his light, the natural consequence whereof is to run the road of
nature, and believe a lie rather than truth. Since Adam's- credulity is the
inheritance of his posterity, they take God for a serpent, and the serpent
for a god, and are as unwilling to receive the sparks of the one as they are
desirous to entertain the deceits of the other. Whosoever hath unworthy
and despicable thoughts of God is averse to any beam that discovers him ;
no man can affect to know that which he doth not value.
(2.) Men are naturally conceited that they know enough of God. There
are two deplorable qualities in man.
First, An incapacity to understand the mysteries of God, by reason of the
dulness of the flesh.
Secondly, An unwillingness to confess his ignorance, by reason of pride
and conceitedness. Man by birth is a headstrong creature ; yet, as vain as
he is, he would be counted wise : Job xi. 12, ' Vain man would be wise,'
and that in the things of heaven. Those that know least of God are trans
ported with an overweening conceit that they know most, that they know
enough, and more than enough. As in the sight of God's majesty we think
ourselves nothing, so in the ignorance of him we think ourselves more than
we are. When sick men conceit themselves sound, they will wilfully refuse ,
any remedy which may convey health : John ix. 41, 'Now you say, We see;
therefore your sin remains.' The opinion they had of their knowledge made
them wilfully refuse the cure of their ignorance.
Thirdly, Men are commonly negligent of knowledge. If there be not a
sensible contrariety to it, or a foolish conceit that they have no need of it,
though there be a sense of the want of it, yet there is a common neghgence
in seeking it, and making due inquiries after God. There is a sleep and a
pleasure in sleeping ; men love to slumber, Isa. Ivi. 10. Those who cannot
endure a darkness in other things, nor acquiesce in a confused knowledge of
them without searching into their causes, and reasons or effects, are well
contented with a weak and languishing knowledge of God, quickly tired in
their pursuits of him. They look up to the sun, and presently take their
eyes off again ; glance at spirituals, and fix to naturals. Where ia the man
who hath intent thoughts upon his Maker and Redeemer ? How little or no
time is it that we spend daily in viewing his glories by meditation ! How
many rise and lie down without any reflection upon the Author of their lives
and motions, and upon the Mediator, who purchased those for them after a
forfeiture ! Are not the stupendous works of creation visible, the amazing
works of redemption legible ? Do not sparka of his wisdom rush out of
every creature flying round about us ? and yet we are lazy in the improve
ment of them to attain a further sight of that God who ia the author of
them. Have we not the sun in the firmament of the goapel, but do we cast
our eyes often upon it ? Do not little fancies please us more than substance ?
A prodigious sottishness possesses men, under multiphed motives to endea
vour after the knowledge of God. How many are there in the world, and in
congregations, that never improve one sermon to advance in the spiritual
knowledge of God ?
(3.) This wilful ignorance, partly from contrariety, conceitedness, and
negligence, is frequent among us. There is among us a common knowledge
of God, which prevents the world from being a shambles, and preserves the
security of his people. It is a guard to the true seed in the world, as the
straw and chaff is to the grain of corn. Abimelech's natural knowledge of
God restrained his hands from offering violence to Abraham ; but saving
knowledge is a fruit not to be found in every hedge. The levity of men in the
ways of God. is an evidence of it : ' hke chUdren, carried about with every

76 chabnock's wobks. [John XVII. 3.
wind of doctrine.' As want of strength makes the bodies, so want of knowledge
makes the minds of chUdren capable of being moulded into any form. The
assent is not fully given to divine revelations. They may have some of the
seed of the word in their affections when they have little in their judgments.
If there were a spiritual knowledge of God and Christ, why should men be
so soon inveigled with error, ani^ fling off the acknowledgment of those
truths, whence they have confessed they have reaped a harvest of comfort ?
What ia the reason evil is so often chosen, since our wiUs naturally are
determined to nothing but under the notion of good, but the blmdness of
our mind ? We never choose evU because it is evU, but because we a,ppre-
hend it to be good. Where the heart is not won to God, the mind is not
enlightened by him. Our little love to him, delight in him, zeal for him,
thoughts of him, testify too many dark clouds between him and our under
standings. We have no sound sense of his justice if we tremble not
at it, no savour of his holiness if we do not strive to imitate it. What
though we may have a notion of Christ crucified, risen, and ascended ! The
mystery of Christ is veUed to our eye if our hearts be sunk into the world
and lust. Our darkness comprehends not the shining hght, John i. 5. It
rather stifles the notions of God than is dispersed by them. How soon do we
forget what we seem to know 1 Our Saviour laboured to instruct his disciples
during the time of his life in the doctrine of his death ; it leaked out of their
minds, as if they believed nothing of his former declarations till the appear
ance of his person waa an irrefragable testimony of the truth of his words.
If our knowledge of God were more spiritual, the operations of our souls
would be more heavenly. Whosoever knows him is stUl flying towards
him. Creeping earth-worms, lukewarm Laodiceans, careless Gallios, con
ceited pharisees, know little, understand less, and savour nothing of God
and Christ. Our ignorance of God is too great, becauae our estimations of
God are too little.
To awaken us against a wilful and negligent ignorance, consider,
[I.J It is inconsistent with Christianity. He deserves not the name of a
Christian who wants the necessary knowledge of a Christian. He deserves
not the name of a rational and intelligent creature who neglects the em
ployment of his mind about the most worthy object. Spiritual ignorance
doth aa much unchriatian a man that hath the name of a Chriatian, as natu
ral folly unmans a person who hath the shape of a reasonable creature.
Should we call this a world if there were no sun, or a man a man that hath
no eyea in his head, nor reason in his mind ? It would be a shadow of the
world, the ghost of a man. Christianity without knowledge is an appear
ance and nothing else, like the picture of a man without reason. A true
Christian bewails Adam's loss, endeavours to repair it, to get a light restored
to hia mind, and a beauty to his soul. He approves of Adam's sin that sits
contented in that darkness Adam brought upon himself and his posterity.
Can that man be counted a follower of Christ, that ia pleaaed with the plague
of nature, which the light of the sun comes to scatter by his beams ? Was
any poor Egyptian at ease in the judicial darkness, were hia groans silent,
or his desires weak for the removal of it ? Yet how many aouls, capable of
an inheritance of hght, sport themselves in the thick fogs of spiritual igno
rance ! He hath a pagan heart, under a Christian name, that can talk of
the design of the new Adam, and yet be pleased with the predominant dark
ness and nature of the old. It is against the end of the gospel; the promise
concerning the gospel times is, that ' the earth shall be full of the knowldge
of the Lord,' Isa. xi. 9, not full of the ignorance of God. Light, not dark
ness, is the glory of a gospel state. The ignorance of the apostles in the

John Xvil. H.j the knowledge op god. 77
time of Christ concerning the nature of hia mediation, the design and end
of his death, is intolerable now in any that bear the name of Christians.
That was before the death and resurrection of Christ, ours after the clear
manifestation of that which in the time of his life was obscure to his
disciples. [2.J Ignorance is Satan's tool and chain, whereby he acts men and keeps
them in captivity. He obstructs knowledge, and guides us in rebellion by
ignorance. The knowledge of God opens the secrets of Satan's kingdom, and
reveals the mystery of hia government. It is the breaking out of the light
of the glory of God in the gospel that makes him fall from heaven like light
ning, Luke X. 18. None gratify Satan so much as ignorant persons. While
this chain is upon the greatest mere moralist, he is as sure under the conduct
of the devil as the profanest wretch. He can be content to let men please
themselves with the shadows of virtue, while he ean hold them sure by the
chain of darkness. He knows he can lead anywhere those that want eyes to
see their way. The darkness of the mind and the power of Satan are the
same thing : Acts xxvi. 18, ' To turn men from darkness to light, and from
the power of Satan unto God.' Whosoever is posaessed by the one is not
free from the command of the other ; darkness chains Satan to punishment,
and darkness chains us to Satan. It is the devil's tool whereby he worka in
ua ; he makes a vast use of it in his motions in the worid, and his assaults
of the soul, Eph. vi. 12. He is called ' the ruler of the darkness of this
world,' of the dark ignorant principles of this world. The darkness in the
heart, whether total or partial, is the handle to every operation of his upon
us ; and the thicker, that is, the stronger second he hath to take hia part
in all his contests against our spiritual welfare. By our foolish principles,
he makes work in our fiery passions. The more we understand of God's
nature and Christ's offices, the more we shall be able to discern hia aubtlety,
and prevent or withstand his attempts, Eph. vi. 14, 15, 17.
[3.] Ignorance of God is the cause of all sin in the world. This is the
fountain of all the sin that ever was ; of the first sin, 2 Cor. xi. 3. ' Thoae
aina which are against knowledge of a particular precept, are grounded upon
an ignorance of the nature of the Lawgiver. Sin springs from an error of
imperfection in the understanding. If a false judgment be erected, false
orders will be issued ; innumerable evils, determinations in the will and
errors in practice, will be the consequents ; wrong notions of God will give
birth to foul evils. A vertigo or megrim in the head causeth irregular and
unsteady motions in the members. Hence it is that the Scripture gives the
name of folly to sin, and fools to sinners. To forget God is the character
of all wicked men : Ps. 1. 22, ' Consider this, ye that forget God.' Sin
growa from the root of folly. Why do men ' give themselves over to commit
lasciviousness with greediness' ? ' Because of the blindness of their hearts,'
Eph. iv. 18, 19. -Why did not the Sadducees believe the resurrection ?
Because they ' knew not the scriptures, and the power of God,' Mat.
xxii. 29. Why are men corrupt in their ways ? Because they ' say in their
hearts. There is no God,' Ps. xiv. 1. Why .did the ungrateful Israehtes
provoke God in the wilderness forty years of mercy together ? Because
' they did err in their hearts, and did not know hia ways,' Ps. xcv. 10.
Ignorance of the glory of God, the nature of sin, and the necessity of proper
ways of expiation, was the cause of the greatest wickedness th^,t ever was
committed in the face of the sun. The Jews had framed a false notion of
a carnally victorious and triumphant Messiah, that would make them con
querors of the world, and therefore crucified the Lord of glory. This
fashions men to lust, 1 Peter i. 14. All wickedness flows out like a torrent,

78 chabnock's woeks. [John XVII. 8,
Hosea iv. 1, 2 (he that doeth evil hath not seen God, 3 John 11), where
there are false conceptions of God, or true notions of him misapplied. The
motion will be irregular when men imagine a careless God or an impure
God, that he doth not regard our ways, is patient, without anger, threatens
only to scare, will not damn men to everlasting torment for a small crime,
his anger endures not for ever ; what will not a man do by those encourage
ments upon the invitation of a temptation ? When the Gentiles' imagina
tions of God became vain, their practices quickly became abominable, Rom.
i. 21, 24. Mistakes of God, and impudence in sin, hold one another by
the hand. When the mind ia corrupt and destitute of the truth, then break
out strife, and envy, and railings, and all the black regiment of heU, 1 Tim.
vi. 4, 5. No foundation in blindneas for any regular walking. Hence it
ia that sins are called works of darkness, but (as some think) never darkness
itself, for by that word in Scripture is signified error and ignorance. That
which hath no being can have no operation, that which is not known can
never move the conscience. If it be not known, it is so far a nonentity, a
thing of no existence ; a man can have no gracious operation, because with
out knowledge of God he can have no gracious being. It is not so much
the pleasure of sin as the ignorance of God that preserves men's affections
to vile lusts. Were the pleasures of sin, hke Nebuchadnezzar's furnace,
seven times hotter and more sparkling than they are, they could not detain
them by their charms, if they had a prospect of the goodness, aweetness, and
kindness of God. The beauty of this object would leave in them no spirit
for the other. For when the aoul knows God to be the chief good, and
clearly apprehends him under that notion, all the chains of sin and Satan
cannot draw him, nor the allurements of them woo him totally from him.
But you may as soon cause an ass with his heavy limbs to run a race as
swiftly as a stag, as cause an ignorant person to repent and come to Christ.
You may as well find reason in a bat, as repentance and faith and spiritual
thirst in an ignorant person. As this is the cause of all sin in the world,
^0 the remainders of it is the cause of all the slips in the best of God's
people, which cost them so many sad groans. Aa a total blindneaa endangers
a fall into precipices, so a partial blindness expoaeth to many stumblings in
the way.
[4.] Wilful ignorance of God is damning. If the knowledge of God be
eternal life, ignorance of God must be eternal death. Mere ignorance de
stroys as well aa disobedience. Vengeance will be rendered on ' them that
know not God,' — on heathens that had not a beam of the gospel, as weU as
on them 'that obey not the gospel' revealed to them, 2 Thes. i. 7, 8. If
God hides his gospel from a man, it is a sign of a lost estate : 2 Cor. iv. 4,
' If the gospel be hid, it ia hid to them that are loat ;' much more when a man
hidea the gospel from himself, which ia not only a neglect of God, but a con
tempt of grace. He affects his own damnation, as he affects darkness that
shuts his eyes against the sun, and refuseth the benefit of the light. If it
be damning where the true notions of God and Christ are not revealed, it is
much more when the revelation of him ia rejected or abuaed. There is so much
of God manifested in his works as renders him in some measure intelligible,
and God hath given them a faculty to know something of him, whereby their
neglect renders them alao inexcuaable. How could a man be inexcusable
that did not see the sun, if he had a negative inability to see it ? God hath
given as much light to men in his works as is due to an intellectual nature,
and to thia end, that men might be inexcusable (for so those words, Rom.
i. 20, so that they- are without excuse, might be more to the design of the
apoatle rendered), ' that they might be without excuse,' not noting the event of

John Xvii. s.j the knowledge of god. 79
their neglect, but the design of God's manifestation, that if they did neglect
it, they should have no ground for an apology.
But where God hath over and above added out of grace a scriptural
light, and made the glorious manifestations therein plain, and when the
revelation is clearer than that in the creatures, clearer than that in the law,
which was called night, in comparison of the knowledge in the gospel, which
is called day (not that the one was absolutely dark, but in comparison of
the other, as the night is not absolutely dark becauae there is a star-light,
or some light in the sky, but much short of the light of the day), wilful
ignorance under such opportunities of knowledge rendera men more deplor
able than heathen a. Inexcusable is he that hath seen God riding in the
chariot of the gospel, and the Sun of righteousness moving in the hemisphere
of the word, and will not behold that sun by whose light he walks upon the
earth, and performs his daily affairs. What can be answered when the
question shall be put, How came you to be ignorant of those things whioh
have so often been inculcated to you ? ignorant of that God in whom you
live and move ? ignorant of that God that shines in every plant,* every
motion of the heavens, and clothes himself with the robes of yet greater
glory in hia word ? There lies aa much an obligation upon ua to the
knowledge of God, as to universal obedience to God. We are bound to
inquire after him, what he ia, what we muat do to please him, and how he
will be worshipped. He therefore that is wilfuUy defective in inquiring
after God, and searching into his will, hath no intent universally to obey
him ; if he had, he would take pains to know him, and what would please
him, which is necessary to a state of salvation. We know what the fate of
those is that haye no intention of universal obedience. It speaks the heart
set upon sin, and a fear of coming to be acquainted with anything that may
hinder them from committing it. A man ignorant of God and Christ can
no more recover out of his mortal disease, than a sick man can without the
knowledge of an able physician, and the application of a sovereign remedy.
It is only by the knowledge of Chriat that we have justification from our
guilt, Isa. liii. 11. No man can be freed from guilt by ignorance ; to think
to be saved by ignorance is the same as to imagine to live without a know
ledge of food, and to be 'happy without acquaintance with the necessary
means of happiness. That which is our sin can never be our apology ; and
being a gross sin, is so far from excusing, that it renders itself more griev
ous, and the condemnation more terrible. And though it be said that Paul
' obtained mercy, because he did it ignorantiy in unbelief,' 1 Tim. i. 13, it
will give no comfort to those that are wilfully ignorant, unless they can
prove that Paul waa one of that rank ; he did what he did ignorantiy,
because the gospel was never revealed to him till Chriat revealed it from
heaven. It is likely he was furious against the Christians by an implicit
faith in the pharisees' determinations, aa well aa out of a zeal of the law.
By the same reason that any would palliate their ignorance by this, and
imagine a salvation because of that, they may fancy unbelief alao to be a
cause of obtaining mercy, which no man that owns the Scripture can have
any pretence to.
To conclude, wilful ignorance of God and Christ under the gospel doth
not procure a single damnation, but one with the most terrible circum
stances, a condemning sentence with God's mock and laughter, turning his
delight and compassions to a pleasure in hia vengeance : Prov. i. 23, &e.,
' Turn you at my reproof: behold, I will pour out my Spirit upon you, I
wiU make known my words unto you. Because I have called, and you
* Qu, ' planet '?— Ed.

80 chabnock's wobks. [John XVH. 3.
refused ; I have stretched out my hand, and no man regarded ; but you
have set at nought all my counsel ; I also wUl laugh at your calamity, and
mock when your fear cometh.'
Use II. Is of comfort to those who have this saving knowledge of God.
Is it not an high satisfaction to be in the light, while many others are in
darkness, to have an acquaintance with the Creator and Redeemer, while
others have a familiarity only with the devil ? As he that is ignorant of
God is miserable, though skilled in all natural and moral knowledge, so he
is transcendently happy who knows his Creator, though blockish in all the
arts in the world. If he were possessed with as great a wisdom as Solomon,
he could have no addition to his essential happiness. As the fruition of
God in the end is the sole blessedness of a creature, so the knowledge of
God is the sole means to blessedness, without anything else to piece it out.
Christ in the text mentions nothing else in concomitancy with it, ' This is
life eternal, to know thee the only true God, and Jesus Christ whom thou
hast sent ;' this and nothing else, this without anything besides. Such an
one ia in union with the higheat truth, he hath a spring of spiritual hfe
within him, a divine manna that nourisheth his soul to everlasting life. It
is a comfort that God hath fixed the fitness of the soul to enjoy him, not in
a natural strength of the understanding, but in an affectionate knowledge of
him, a qualification all are capable of. If only wise men, and men eminent
for speculation, were capacitated for eternal life, how few would God have to
know him or enjoy him ! But the meanest man, that hath neither oppor
tunity nor capacity for an elevated contemplation of God, may attain this
spiritual knowledge and an elevation of affection to him.
1. Such an one knows more than all the carnal world besides. What
the world knows of God is by a common illumination, as Christ is ' the
light which enlighteneth every man that comes into the world,' and by the
largeness of a natural capacity ; but what a Christian knows of God is by a
divine infusion, strait union, by a particular act of God, making Christ
wisdom to him, 1 Cor. i. 30. He knows him not only by a natural instinct
as the world doth, and as beasts know their proper food and what is con
venient for them, but by a special revelation, an inshining, a choice favour
not indulged to every one : ' To you it is given tcf know the mysteries of the
kingdom of heaven, but to them it is not given,' Mat. xiii. 11, a gift out of
his secret cabinet, not out of hia common exchequer. How comfortable was
it to the shepherds to have the revelation of the birth of Christ, which was
concealed from the pharisees and grandees of the Jews 1 God darts out a
divine light upon whom he pleaseth, he refresheth babes with his beams, ,
while he leaves the wise and prudent with their blind eyes in the dark.
Poor fishermen had this privilege, which was denied to the towering philo
sophers of the world. And almost aU the revelations of Christ there were
among the heathens, were communicated to the weaker sex, some women
caUed sybUs, who had a prophetic spirit of those things. Some of their
prophecies are true, though not all true which is inserted in their oracles ;
they knew more than aU the rest ofthe world. The eye is a little member,
but it views at once the whole surface of heaven within its reach • a little
saving hght from God gives a man a prospect of auch glorious thinga, which
reason cannot reach ; a little spiritual light, with the constant assistance of the
Spirit, shall behold more of God than the biggest inteUect without it as a
little eye with a multitude of sparkling spirits shaU see further and clearer
than a greater without that assistance. Many men of the deepest insieht
and quickest parts are furthest from the knowledge of God.
2. It is an evidence of grace to have a transforming, affectionate know-

John XVIL 3.] the knowledge op god. 81
ledge of God and Christ. No wicked man doth understand, Dan. xii. 10,
i. e. experimentally, affectionately, transformingly. Ignorance ia a sign of
gracelessneas, spiritual knowledge is a fruit of the Spirit, and a sign of all
the other fruits of it; for it is a covenant mercy, and flows from God's being
our God, and it is a fruit of the grace of God given us in Chriat to be
enriched with it, 1 Cor. i. 4, 5. The clearness of the church's eyes, like the
fish-pools of Heshbon, in the apprehension of spiritual mysteries, is part
of her beauty, in the summary description of it. Cant. vii. 4. The eyes are
the organs of sight, and the instruments of knowledge which convey objects
to the understanding. It is a sign of a man's being in covenant with God, to
have an heart to know him, Jer. xxiv. 7. Heb. viii. 11, ' I will give them
an heart to know me, and they shall be my people, and I will be their God,
I will put my law into their mind.' The great promiae of the new covenant
was, that they should know God better than under all the rudiments of the
law ; a knowing God by a law in the heart, as well as by a notion in the
head ; for the law written in the heart is a reason rendered why they should
know God. He speaks not of a knowledge that lies in the common field,
but a knowledge hedged in, and peculiar to the covenant children of God,
the heirs of heaven, and brethren of one family, not to all that bear the
name of Christiana, for it is such a knowledge as ia accompanied with aanc-
tification of the heart, Heb. viii. 10, and justification of the person : ver. 12,
' For I will be merciful to their unrighteousness, and their sins and iniquities
I wiU remember no more.' Where this knowledge is, it is a sign of the
special favour of God ; since it is a gift only in his power ; (God doth not use
so solemnly to promise that which is within our common reach), and is
conveyed by a special act of the Spirit. It being a covenant mercy, it is a
cabinet mercy. Men without it are in the chains of darkness and the devil ;
those that h^ve it are freed from the devil's yoke. What a comfortable thing
is it to be within the arms of the everlasting covenant ! Where covenant
graces are bestowed, all covenant blessings will of right follow.
(3.) What comfort may such have in all kind of afflictions ? This, like
musk, will perfume the moat loathsome dungeon. We have enough if we
have this spiritual knowledge of God, though we want all things else.
Death cannot be dreadful when Christ is known and felt in the power of his
grace. The view of Christ raised the heart of Stephen above fears and
anguish, when stones were ready to break in pieces the case of hia body :
Acts vii. 55, 56, ' He saw the glory of God, and Jesus standing on the right
hand of God.' This knowledge is the strongest cordial : the sweetness of
this surmounts the bitterness of the other. When the sun is clearly seen,
the high winds do rarely trouble the mariner. In death, we need the greatest
supports, and what greater than to consider you are going to one you know ?
Though you change your place, yet not your acquaintance ; you pass to a
strange country, but not to new company. And indeed, afflictions are so
far from being ground of discomforts, that they are rather cordials in the
issue, because they advance us more degrees in this knowledge, which is the
means of eternal life. We often learn more of God under the rod that
strikes ua, than under the staff that comforts us : Ps. cxix. 71, ' It is good
for me that I have been afflicted ; that I might learn thy statutes. The law
of thy mouth is better unto me than thousands of gold and silver.' If the
sun should perpetually shine in our hemisphere, how could we understand
God's workmanship in those little spangles of the heavens ? Though the
night hide from us the beauty of the sun, yet it discovers the brightness and
motions of the stars. God had not at aU been discovered to us without the
VOL. rv. p

82 ohaenock's woeks. [John XVII. 3.
bleeding afflictions of Christ ; nor is not fully learned of us without our own.
Daniel was in captivity, when he had the most perspicuous visions of Christ ;
John in exile in Patmoa, when he had the revelation of Christ's walk among
the candlesticks, and the methods of God in the affairs of the church. And
Paul mounts up in choicer apprehensions of spiritual objecta, as upon eagle's
wings, in his epistles to the Ephesians, Philippians, Colossians, which were
writ when he was in bonds at Rome for Christ, wherein appears an higher
flight, a stronger ardour, a more divine efficacy' of Spirit in him. This
spiritual knowledge of God and Christ prepares us for afflictions, comforts
us in them, and ia enlarged by them.
(4.) Comfort in the measures and degrees of knowledge. It is eternal life
to know God and Jesua Christ ; Christ regards the quality, not the quantity.
The disciple?, who were present with Christ in this prayer, and of whom he
acquaints his Father that they had known him, had but little knowledge,
yet it was true and sound, though not in such great measures as afterwards.
Not that this should be encouragement to laziness ; for the small measures
in them before the death of Christ are inexcusable now, under greater means
than they had before the coming of the Spirit upon them after the Redemeer's
death and resurrection. All believers have not the same measure of know
ledge, yet all have the truth of it ; there are degrees of knowledge, as there
are of grace ; God distributes the knowledge of himself according to the nature
of the several subjects, as tho sun doth light to the stars according to their
several capacities. All the apostlea, in the time of Christ's being in the
world, had not the same measure and clearness of insight. Peter confesseth
him to be the Son of God when the rest wore silent; and none after seems
to have the knowledge of Christ and his mysteries in the same elevation with
Paul, yet all had a sufficiency of knowledge, both for themselves and others.
Nay, believers themselves have not at all times the same sparkling measures
of light : aa the sun shines clearer in some parts of the day than in others,
yet in every part of the day there ia hght enough for men to perform their
affairs by. Look to the quality of your knowledge, that it be sound, spiritual,
transforming, as well as to the quantity. See what favour attends it, what
affections it engenders; not what speculations it raiseth. A great heat
with a httle light is better than a clear hght with an hard frost and be
numbed limbs. The spiritual eye, as well as the natural, is opened by
degrees. Bless God for what you find ; rest not in twilight, but long for
stronger beams. Look to God for light : Ps. xxxiv. 5, ' They looked to him,
and were lightened.' Look not to Moses and the prophets, but as the
means ; look to Christ, who is the light that enlightens eyery man that comes
into the world. The more casts of our eye upon him by faith, the fuller of
beams shall we take them off. A look towards him attracts light from him,
a look towards the sun clears all things about us.
(5.) And let me add, that it is the office of Christ in heaven to pity us and
relieve ua in our bewailed ignorance. He that prayed thus, and asserts the
knowledge of God and of himself to be eternal life, is ordained by God an
high priest, to ' have compassion on the ignorant, and on them that are out
of the way,' Heb. v. 1, 2. As he pities his people under the remainders of
sin, so under the remainders of darkness, the cause of the other. It is one
of the greatest troubles of a gracious soul, that he knowa no clearer ; and
the mediator's strongest compassions are exercised about that which is his
people's urgent distress. What hath Christ compassions for, but to exert
upon their greatest perplexity ? What use were they for, if the proper ob
ject of them be neglected ? He hath all his offices to remove the fruita of
our faU. The darkneas of the mind waa the first, and the cause of all the

John XVII. 3.] the knowledge of god. 83
miachiefa since. If the crazed understanding be not cured, no saving
work can have ita full effect. Thia being the root of our misery, is the first
proper object of our Saviour's compassions. Hia compassions are hia quali
fication for every office ; were . he not compaasionate, his royalty would
rather be a tyranny, his priesthood an empty title, his prophetical office an
idle name. As he pleads against the guilt of sin, which as a priest he hath
expiated ; as he pleads gainst the power of ain, which aa a king he hath
broken : so he pleads against the remaining ignorance of the soul, which as
a prophet he is expeUing. As it was his business at the first to declare God,
so it is still his employment more fully to discover him. As he owns the
gift of his Father's power in the text to spread this knowledge, so he pro
miseth in the same prayer to be faithful in hia office : John xvii. 26, ' I have
declared thy name, and will declare it.' He was the light of men, not only
at his incarnation, but before ; no age or period of time was there wherein
he scattered not some illumination in the world. He ' was the light of men,'
John i. 4, and ' hghted every man that came into the world,' ver. 9 ; nor
is less pitiful to men's ignorance, and industrious to remove the continuing
shadows in the hearts of his people, than he waa before. As he is the
author of their knowledge as well as their faith, so he will be the finisher of
the one as well as the other. He is a Sun of righteousness, and is to do
spiritually what the sun doth naturally, send forth his light to disperse the
darkness, and his influence to heal the barrenness of the soul. The natural
sun, indeed, pierceth by its influence the obscure bowels of the earth, which,
by reason of their thickness, obstruct the entrance of his beams ; but the
Snn of righteousness bestows not his influence without his light. He is first
a prophet to enlighten, before he is a Spirit to quicken, in the first work.
He is the same in the progreas ; as we cannot have spiritual life before
light, so we cannot have an increase of spiritual life without an increase of
spiritual light ; and to this purpose he took our nature, that he might pity
and remove our darkness. Is not this a comfort, to have the glass of his
word below, wherein to see him ; a Spirit within, to wipe and clear our
eyes ; and an high priest above, to exercise his compassions towards ua upon
this very account ?
(6.) The saving knowledge of God any have, is an evidence of a future
state, of a happy vision, and an earnest of their arrival to it. Since it is the
meana of eternal life, there must be an eternal life, the issue of this know
ledge. Of what use are means that are without an end ? Since nothing can
satisfy the soul here, nor can our souls with a perfect contentment know God
through the grates and lattices of a dark body, with the scales and ahadea
upon the mind, there must be a time wherein a glorious liberty from prison
shall be conferred, Rom. viii. 21, the shadows fly a-way, and a contenting
vision be bestowed upon a longing heart ; otherwise the soul could not have
an happy and satisfactory eternal life. Not to have such a knowledge as to
satisfy the full desires, would be half an eternal death ; not answering the
vastness of the power the Father bestowed upon the Son for the conferring
it, nor answering the compassions of the Son to the ignorant in removing the
hindrances. Besides, the more knowledge there is here, the hotter the thirst
for more. As God is the author of those sparks we have, so he is the author
of that heat which ariseth in the soul by those sparka. It cannot be aup-
posed that a God of infinite goodness, who created man for the fruition of
himself, and after he was dead in sin revived him, and planted in him quick
and ardent desires for himself, should do this without designing a full satis
faction to him, which never any of the choicest spirits had in this world, and
therefore must be in another. Where do you find any blessed soul at rest

84 chabnock's woeks. [John XVII. 3.
here ? David is still upon pursuit after a sight of the glory of God ; Paul
still reacheth forward to the thinga before, and breathes after a full appre
hension, putting up petitiona for all whom he had the care of and affection
to, that they might be enriched with all knowledge, underatand the riches of
glory, be fiUed with aU wiadom. Doth it consist with such a watchful, sincere,
and unspotted goodness of God, to raise and continue such inclinations in
his creatures, to encourage and influence them, and never to render them
completely satisfied ? ShaU God thus let any souf that hath had a ghmpse
of him lie grovelling and panting, without reaching out his hand to lift him
up, and unveiling his face in time to him to behold his glory ? Annihilation
had been better than boundless desires, eternally unsatisfied, and eternaUy
languishing. The underatanding, the noblest faculty, first seized upon by
God, will not always want the noblest contentment in the view of its proper
object. The sun communicates not itself to the air, but by the enlightening
of it. God ia the father of glory as well aa of grace, and is a father of grace
in order to hia being a father of glory. God doth not design to mock his
creatures, or to defeat the desires of his own exciting. It is in point of
knowledge as well as other things that God is our God, Jer. xxiv. 7. He
will one day be our God in the highest perfection of all the fruits of the
covenant, so that ignorance as well as sin and infirmity shall be chased far
from us. The covenant will want its full accomplishment till the dim know
ledge of God be drowned in a perfect and clear vision. And since the
shadowy light we have is so delightful, how ravishing must that be which
shall discover God in his full glory ! If the earnest be so pleasing, how
dehghtful shall be the full payment, since an earnest is the least part of the
sum contracted for 1
(7.) Where God doth communicate the knowledge of himself and his Son,
he will not hide from gracious souls any other knowledge necessary for them
in the world. The giving the greater is an assurance the less shall not be
withheld, which may further them in that which is the principal end. Yea,
he sometimes reveals his secret purposes to them concerning his transactions
in the world. God would not conceal from Abraham hia determination con
cerning Sodom, because he had been acquainted with the grand secret of his
mercy in the Messiah : Gen. xviii. 17, 18, ' ShaU I hide from Abraham the
thing which I do, seeing that all the nations of the earth shall be blessed in
him ? ' Have I manifested my gracious purpose to restore mankind to my
favour, and the means how I will do it, which the heart of man could never
think of, and so many hundred years are to run out before it be accomplished,
and shall I make a difficulty to acquaint him with my intended judgment
upon Sodom ? God often gives those that know him a sense and sight of
judgments he intends to bring upon a people : ' Who is wise, and he ahaU
understand those things ? ' Hosea xiv. 9. Both the threatenings and pro
mises contained in that prophecy.
III. Use. Of exhortation.
1. Try yourselves whether you have the knowledge of God or no; try it
not ao much by the notions you have of God and his truth as by the opera
tions of it, and the draught of the perfections of God in your own souls.
The greatest heads have often had the worst hearts. Christ had not more des
perate enemies in the whole world than the intelligent pharisees, the Jewish
doctors, who had the law at their fingers' ends. See whether we have a
transcript of God and Christ in our own souls. When we cast our eyes
upon God, let us reflect upon ourselves, and see whether the temper of our
hearts answer the notions in our heads. Can any man say, I know God to
be merciful, and I have an imitation of it; God is holy, and I have a draught

John X"VII. 3.] the knowledge op god. 85
of it ; God is omniscient, and I have a deep sense of it in my actions ; God
hath a sovereign dominion, and I have an obedient frame ; God is true in
his word, and I have a sincerity answering to divine truth, a faith in his
promises, a fear of his threatenings ; there are some lineaments in my heart
answering in some measure to the perfections of my Creator ? And can any
man consider Christ as obedient to the will of God, and see a conformity in
himself to that heavenly image ? I know Christ felt the sting of death for
sin, and I feel the power of that death breaking my sin, and sinful heart ;
Christ had an happy resurrection, and I feel the blessed fruit and influence
of it, in raising my soul to a newness of life. This is only the true know
ledge of God and Christ, which sinks down in affection, and expresseth itself
in imitation. Conclude not of yourselves by some fleshly apprehensions of
some pleasing doctrine of Christianity, as notions of the mercy of God, jus
tification by Christ, freeness of grace. An intent speculation of such things
may force men into a rapture by the strength of a aprightly imagination,
without the inward hving spirit of him in the heart. This is auch a know
ledge as the crazed fancy of a madman may have of wealth and palaces,
who hath neither a penny in his purse nor a house for his head. The trial
of ourselves is by a thirst for the performing of the will of God, a motion in
his ways, sense of his greatneaa, embraces of his grace and dictates, and
spiritual affections to himself and his laws. There is as vast a difference be
tween the knowledge of God in the letter and that in the spirit, as there is
between the statue of an angel with his wings and a real angel in heaven.
A knowledge in the head is as money in the purse, a knowledge in the heart
is as money for our use. Nor let us conclude by the delight we have in
speculations. There is a secret joy in the contemplation of any truth of a lower
size, much more in the speculation of the higheat, noblest, and firmest truth.
The notion may be delightful when a conformity is unpleasant. We may
affect the accomplishment of our minds without any endeavouring to better
our hearts. Speculation is an employment of wit, but the spiritual knowledge
ia a conjunction of heart to God and Christ. We may value a meditation of
him when the conformity to him may be of as little eateem with us as the
straw and dirt we tread under our feet. The understanding and will are
two distinct faculties, have distinct operations; the acting of the one doth
not always infer the acting of the other. We may delight to look upon that
we would not feed on, yet true knowledge is always attended with a delight :
' When wisdom enters into thy heart, and knowledge is pleasant to thy
soul,' Prov. ii. 10 ; the more innate light there is in the eye, the more the
eye delights in the beams which from without strike upon it ; the more dark
ness in the eye, the less pleaaure in the aunahine. He that loves his lusts,
hatea the light which discovers their ugliness ; he that loves God, loves the
light which discovers hia beauty. True knowledge is always accompanied
with more ardent desires to know. One ignorant of God desires not to know
him, that he may sin with the less rebuke and perish with the less fear. It
is a sign the soul hath tasted of divine sweetneaa, when it longs for greater
communications ; it ia so far from assuaging, that it quickens the appetite.
Moses was master of the Egyptian learning, but set not up hia reat in that.
He had more acquaintance with God than any man in the world ; yet, after
he had been discoursing with God in the mount, he ia an earnest petitioner
for more discoveries : Exod. xxxiii. 13, ' I beseech thee, shew me thy glory.'
That is no true knowledge of God that surfeits and clogs the soul. Those
heavy spirits, that are scarce masters of a groan for it, never understood the
excellency of it. Not to desire to know him is to contemn him, and he that
undervalues him never had any understanding of him.

86 chabnock's wobks. [John XVII. 3.
2. Rest not in a discursive understanding of God. The understanding in
a state of innocency, with its full stock, did not preaerve the will frbm a
destructive obedience to the sensitive appetite, when it was wholly freed from
those ill biasses which make its motions irregular now. Mere knowledge
now cannot be forcible enough to prevail with the will under the power of
those iU habits, which imperiously tyrannise over it. The eye and hand of
a man can never cast a bowl right, which hath a false bias disproportioned
to the aim of him that useth it ; the reason of the caster cannot make it
move, but according to its false bias. Till the wrong inclination of the will
be displaced, it will not come under the guidance of the understanding,
though it were as strongly enlightened aa the highest angel. It will move
according to its natural impetus and habit, notwithstanding all that light in
the mind, as self-will acts the devil against God, contrary to all the light in
hia understanding. No intellectual act, abstractedly considered, can be a
gracious action ; all acts in the understanding receive their gracefulness and
beauty by the termination of them in a God-like act of the will, which is the
proper seat of grace. We come to enjoy God, not only by an act of our
understanding, but by an act of our will. A glorified saint, no, nor the
human nature of Christ, is not happy so much by a prospect of God, as by
an intense affection to him. God stands not so much upon our knowledge
of him, as our dehght in him ; and it is no sign of our union with God,
unless affection to him be joined with it. All rational creatures affect know
ledge in order to some good ; the desires of good are more settled, and are
more the fruits of a natural instinct than desires for knowledge. This, there
fore, cannot give a complete satisfaction without a taste of his goodness. If
we desire knowledge only for the sake of knowledge, we thwart the nature
and natural motions of our souls. It is not the perfection of the under
standing, without the purity of the heart, which brings us to enjoy God,
Mat. V. 8. Impure creatures, with the highest intellectuals, cannot look
upon him. The glory of Christ was to do the wiU of God ; his knowledge
of him was in order to obey him. Get a fresher experience, therefore, of
every truth of God which you know ; this is the ballast of the soul ; the
other is but a vanishing sound. Improve your knowledge. In knowing God,
we receive only from him ; in loving him, we give ourselves and all that we
have to him, and God bestows himself rather upon them that love him, than
upon those that only know him.* As it is worse to hate God than to be igno
rant of him, so it is better to love God than merely to understand him.' We
may use our speculations to pride, but we cannot make ill use of our holy
affections. By loving, we make a larger progress in a little time. Love doth
more fia-mly knit us to God than knowledge, for the strength of knowledge
consists in discerning, the strength of love in union. By contemplating God,
we contract, as it were, his infiniteness according to the capacity of our con
ceptions ; by loving him, we enlarge our minds to the immense latitude of his
divine goodness. By knowing him, we do, as it were, bring him down to us;
by loving him, we lift up ourselves to him. We know only so much aa we
can receive and are capable of, but we love not only what we see, but what
we imagine there is of goodness beyond our sight. We see the divine excel
lency obscurely, but we may love it intensely; we see little, but we may love
much. Knowledge gives us a sight, and love gives us a possession ; we find
him by knowledge, but we enjoy him by love. Let us improve our know
ledge of him for inflaming our affections to him, that we may be prepared
for the glory of our eternal hfe. The understanding ia but the door of the
* Ficin. lib. i. epist. 116, pp, 663, 664.

John XVII. 3.] the knowledge op god. 87
heart; to let God and Christ stick there, and not bring them into the heart,
is to give a cold entertainment to that which deserves the best.
3. Prepare, and wait, and long for heaven. We have but a glimpse here
of the excellency of God and beauty of Christ. The church's eyes, though
clear as doves, are ' within her locks,' Cant. iv. 1 ; a fair eye of faith, but
still some obstructions to a full aight. The light now shines in a dark place,
it shall shine there without a spot of darkneas ; that which is in part shall
give place to that which ia perfect ; the light of God shall dart immediately
upon the soul without reflection from a glass ; all shall meet in the ' unity of
the knowledge ofthe Son of God,' as well as in the 'unity of faith,' Eph.
iv. 13. The motions of the body shall not obstruct the operations of the
soul. There will be light without darkness, knowledge without ignorance,
clearness without dimness ; no turbulent affections shaU confound the eye,
nor distractions divert the aoul. ' We shall know as we are known,' 1 Cor.
xiii. 12. Every gracious soul is perfectly known by God here, i. e. accepted
by him, but is not fully illuminated by him ; but there will be as perfect an
illumination from him, as there is an acceptation with him. The thick scales
shall for ever fall off from the eye, and the dark veil from the heart, that it|
may behold without weakness and winking. As the most excellent object
shall be presented, so it ahall ^e beheld in the most exceUent manner; the
spiritual eye shall be fortified, and the divine glory shall be unclouded, and
the pleasure of seeing shall be as great aa that of enjoying. The clearest
knowledge here is unconceivably short of that above, as the sight of a sore
eye is of that of an eagle. The chains of spiritual sloth shall be knocked off,
the diversions of worldly objects ahall have an eternal remove. Ignorance
within ahall perish, and darkness without shall vanish. Here the soul sees
what God is not, there it shall see him as he is to be seen. Surely those
that thirst not for this state, that prepare not themselves for it, that long not
for the passing away of those gloomy shades, that they may satisfy them
selves with full visions and full affections, and according to their measures
prepare themselves by diligent inquiries and affectionate motions, never yet
had any taste of the most desirable object.
4. Therefore daily endeavour to increase in the knowledge of God. Our
main work in the world is to increase in the knowledge of sin, that we may
more vehemently detest it ; and the knowledge of God, that we may more
closely embrace him and resign up ourselves to him. Paul, who was advanced
to a higher step iu this than any in the world, had 'taken up a settled reso
lution to ' know nothing but Chriat and him crucified,' aa the moat excellent
knowledge he could busy himself in, 1 Cor. ii, 2, and would neglect no means
to grow up in the apprehensions of him ' of whom he was apprehended,'
Philip, iii. 12. It is not said we must follow on to know for such a time,
Hos. vi. 3. No time is fixed, and therefore it must be continually. We
should quicken any divine spark in our souls.* If the first beams of spiritual
light give life, the further increase more abundantly increaseth that life ; it
being eternal life, we are nearest to life when we rise highest in knowledge.
K the mind be opened, it can no more take pleasure in a little knowledge
than the eye of the body can in a httle light, by which it delights itaelf in
any visible object. It can take no pleasure in a little, but aa it is a presage
of more approaching. He therefore that saith he knows as much of God and
Christ as can be known, never understood the depth of hia own natural igno
rance, the immensity of God, the dimensions of the love of Chriat, and the
nature and unweariedness of the Spirit's teaching. Should all men in the
* As Jam blichus speaks of Pythagoras, he did i»«^<a,ni{£r» ro ^iTov, Vit. Pytliag.
lib, i. cap. 16.

88 chabnock's woeks. [John XVH. 3.
world engage in no other study but this of God and Christ, to the world's end,
they would confess that that which they know is unconceivably short of that
which they are ignorant of. It cannot be so great but it is atill capable of a
further increase, like a river that is not so big but it may swell higher, and
larger, by the admission of leaaer rivulets. There is a ripe age, a manly
stature in understanding, which we must aim at : 1 Cor. xiv. 20, ' Be not
children in understanding.' The apostle, who had the fullest insight into
the nature of God and offices of Christ, puts himself into the number of them
that knew but in part : 1 Cor. xiii. 12, ' I know but in part.' And therefore,
as we desire to be as angels in glory, we should endeavour to imitate the
angela in their acute aearch into the mysteries of Christ, and wisdom of God
in him ;* they know much, yet desire to know more, 1 Pet. i. 12. The
truth is, as Adam offended in endeavouring to know more than he should,
we offend in neglecting to know so much as we may. Our first parents
would know too much, and their children too little, though there be ' un
searchable riches of Christ ' to be searched into, Eph. iii. 8.
(1.) There can be no growth in grace without an increase in the know
ledge of God. God is the object of grace, the object must be known before
any act about it can be exercised; and as the object is cleared, the acts
about it are more vigorous. There may be indeed a knowledge without
grace ; but there can be no increase of grace without an increase of know
ledge, as the heat of the fire cannot be made more intense without a supply
of fuel. There may be slight affections up and down, rovings, hke those of
a ship without ballast tossed by the waves, but making no way. Knowledge
hath faith in its root, and all other graces for its fruit : 2 Peter i. 5-7, ' Add
to your faith virtue, and to virtue knowledge ;' then follows temperance,
patience, godliness, charity. As the root is strengthened, the branch spreads
itself, and the fruits grow thicker. The knowledge of the word is the en
trance of life, the means of begetting is the means of nourishing the soul to
eternal life. If the stock decays, the fruits which grow from it cannot
flourish. The increase of it was as much the subject of the apostle's prayer
for the Colossians, as the first fulness of it in them, and that with respect to
their fruitfulness, which depended on it : Col. i. 9, 10, ' We cease not to pray
for you, and to desire that you may be filled with the knowledge of his will
in all wisdom and spiritual understanding, that you might walk worthy of
the Lord unto aU pleasing, being fruitful in every good work ;' and as a
meana to it he adds, ' increasing in the knowledge of God.'
(2.) It is not hkely there can be any other fruit than that of apostasy,
without increasing in the knowledge of God. If knowledge be not improved,
it will decay. ' Evil men wax worse and worse,' 2 Tim. iii. 13. Aa aome
lust ia the cause why men desire not the rudimenta of knowledge, so some
lust is the cause why men desire not the improvement of knowledge, and
this will be like a thief in the candle of the Lord, making it aweal away, like
a deluge of water extinguishing the fire. If God opens the floodgate of cor
rupt affections, the flood will quench thoae sparks which seemed to be spi
ritual, aa well aa it did those natural sparks in those the apostle speaks of,
Rom. i. 26. The ground that is bad of itself, when overflowed with salt
waters, is much worse, and cannot bring forth what it did before. A stop in
knowledge, though a man be acquainted with the first principles, is the first
inlet to apostasy, accordmg to the apostle's intimation, Heb. vi. 1, 2. After
he had checked them in the former chapter, for sticking in the first prin
ciples of Christianity, and exhorted them in this chapter to proceed further
* Eph. iii. 10, iyx-JTTut (I'j .ra fiih Tits 9-il:cs yturias. Clem. Alexandr. Barlow on
Tim, part ii. p 51.

John XVII. 3.] the knowledge of god. 89
in the knowledge of the mysteries of religion, he immediately subjoins the
doctrine of apostasy ; ' For it is impossible for those that were once enlight
ened, and have tasted the heavenly gift,' &c., ver. 4. If you grow not to a
greater maturity in knowledge, you are in danger of returning, not only to
your former ignorance, but more corrupt affections. If they took up their
station in the first principlea, they could not pass on to perfection, and thia
is an evidence that they were going back, and distasting those first rudi
ments which they had learned and embraced. This is evident in natural and
civil affairs : the tree that doth not thrive will soon rot, and the tradesman
that doth not increase his stock wiU soon be out at heels, and he that doth
not improve his knowledge will prove a spiritual bankrupt. And such a wil
ful darkness which men bring upon themselves by their perversity, is but
one step from destruction. The plague of darkness upon the Egyptians did
immediately precede the slaying of their first born, and the destruction of
the flower of their mihtia in the Red Sea. Increase, therefore, in the know
ledge of God is the way to prevent backslidings. Weak bodies soon atumble,
when strong bodies walk and do not faint, but hold out to the last. To in
crease in affections is to increase in heat and vigour, to increase in spiritual
understanding is to increase in strength, which consists in a compactness
and closeness of the joints, which ia the strength, health, and stability of the
body. A river enlarged by the entertainment of many little streams is not
dried up so soon as a small stream.
(3.) Every degree of increased knowledge will be more satisfying and ra
vishing. As it waa in the feast where Christ was, the best wine was reserved
for the end of it, the knowledge of God behind is to that which we have, as
a fuU draught of precious liquor is to a taste or sip. The clearer our light,
the stronger our comfort. All doubts arise from the weakness of judgment,
ignorance of the nature of God, the offices of Christ, and tenure of the cove
nant. This is promised : Hosea vi. 3, ' We shall know, we shall foUow on
to know the Lord,' i. e. according to the Hebrew idiom, we ahall knowingly
follow on after the knowledge of God, or go from knowledge to knowledge.
We shaU have hia aasistance, who is prepared and ready to break out upon
us as a morning light, refreshing and growing stronger every hour, with new
manifestations and a lively heat; and like a former and latter rain, as fresh
showers in the spring to draw out the flowers and beauty of the earth, and
the latter rain in autumn to ripen to an harvest. By rain in Scripture is
signified knowledge : Deut xxxii. 2, ' My doctrine shall drop as the rain.'
The first beam is admirable, it ia a marvelloua light, 1 Peter ii. 9. It dia-
covers things worthy the search, and ia more surprising upon every inquiry.
God and Christ are infinite treasures, inexhaustible fountains, a mine which
upon every search presents with new riches. God always remains intel
ligible, and upon a faithful search will every day tear off part of the veil from
the heart, and part of the veil from his own face, and send forth richer in
fluences of life and joy.
Well, then, let us increase in this knowledge.
[1.] Let us endeavour to enlarge our faculty. Eye-salve is to be pro
cured to make ns quick-sighted. Rev. iii. 18. The mouth opened wide is
filled with nourishing food ; the eyes opened are filled with visible objects :
Ps. cxix. 18, ' Open thou mine eyes, that I may behold wondrous things out
of thy law.' He hath an enlightened understanding, but sensible of his im
perfection, longeth for a greater enlargedneaa, that he might aee more ravish
ing wonders in God's law. Much more aurpriaing wondera are there in God
the law-maker, and Chriat the law-repairer.
[2.] Let us not be puffed up with a vain conceit that we have knowledge

90 chabnock's woeks. [John XVH. 3,
enough. Let us rather bewail our ignorance than boast of our under
standing. Sense of indigence is the first step to fulness ; empty souls are
capable of being fiUed. What we know of God and Christ is infinitely below
what is to be known of them.
[3.1 Let us rise to more spiritual apprehensions. It is hard for us to
have elevated thoughts ; carnal notions are most apt to possess our minds,
and naturaUy our thoughts of God and Chiist are no better in their kind
than Nicodemus's of regeneration, imagining it to be a re-entry into his
mother's womb, John iii. 4 ; or the Samaritan woman, who framed no
higher conceptions of the fountain of living waters than those she had of
her father Jacob's weU, John iv. 12. There ia a knowledge of Christ after
tlie flesh, 2 Cor. v. ] 6, carnal conceptions of divine glories ; and there is a
knowledge of Christ after the Spirit, in his spiritual appearances, his spi
ritual works; a knowledge of Christ, not ao much as he waa conversant upon
earth, but as reigning in heaven, glorious and prevalent in his intercession.
This was the end of his death, and thia should be the aim of our knowledge.
As Christ rose from a low and infirm state to an heavenly glory, to a more
spiritual discovery of himself, so should we keep time with his several states
in our knowledge of him. There is a knowledge of the history of Christ,
and there ia a knowledge of the mystery of Christ ; this latter we should
grow in, which is the true manna of the soul. Rise from dull notions to
sprightly and more affecting apprehensions of God and Christ.
[4.] Let us increase in the knowledge of whole God and whole Christ.
View all the perfections of God. Be not only intent upon some of the
first magnitude, but on thoae that seem the lesser sparks, which have an
influence one time or other upon the souls and lives of men. He is not
worthy of the name of an astronomer, who gazeth only upon one or two
planets, with a neglect of the reat, which have their particular excellency as
well as the other heavenly bodies. As there is nothing in the heavens, so
there is nothing in God and Christ, but is worthy of our understanding and
consideration, and affords matter of instruction and matter of consolation
one time or other. Let us not satisfy ourselves with a knowledge of God in
the mass ; a glance upon a picture never directs you to the discerning the
worth and art of it.
[5.] Let ua fetch the increase of thia knowledge from the true principle,
from the word. By the Spirit in the word it was flrst imprinted; by the
Spirit in the word it is further enlarged. The improvement of a man in
any science must be fetched from the principlea of that science, not from the
principles of another ; no one would study the art of painting to improve
himself in the skill of physic and medicines. Studying the word of God is
the way to increase in the knowledge of God's nature, Christ's offices, and
more spiritual apprehension of them.
5. Exhortation. To those who are void of the spiritual knowledge of
God, labour for it. What need there be more urged than the title of it in
the text ? It is eternal life, therefore worthy of the most exact dUigence.
As the deception which had seized upon the understanding of the first man
was the cause of death, so the light of understanding our Creator and his
immense love in Christ, is the cause of life. Other sciences may be a tree
of knowledge, thia is a tree of life. It is a doleful consideration to see men
impertinently spendmg their time and consumuig their strength in the study
of creatures (with a neglect of this), a knowledge wherewith they may descend
to heU with sorrow, rather than that whereby they may ascend to heaven
with joy. This knowledge, as it advanceth our states, so it elevates our
natures. ' A man that understands not is like the beasts that perish,' Ps.

John XVII. 3.] the knowledge of god. 91
xlix. 20. Divine knowledge is above all the wisdom of corrupted nature,
and renders a man superior to a mere son of Adam. All other knowledge,
though commendable in its kind, if it be not improved for this end, will
degenerate into sensual, if not devilish, James iii. 15. It will either rest in
a more refined sensuality, a life of depraved reason, or fit a man to be a
malicious devil against the interest of Christ. Shall not then eternal death
scare us from our slothful and beloved ignorance ? Shall not eternal life
allure us to divine wisdom ? Was it the misery of the world ever since
Adam to have a blindness of mind ? And shall any of us rest contented in
that misery, and resolve to be no wiser and happier than the Gentiles, that
were alienated from the life of God through the blindness of their minds ?
God said of light at the creation, it waa good; he waa the author of it, it
entered into the composition of all creaturea. He doth not aay so of dark
ness ; that is not his creature, but a privation of light. God never said of
ignorance, or of any thing understood by darkness, It is good. Shall any of
us resolve to persist in that which hath not the least spark of goodness in it,
that hath not the least syllable of God'a approbation, that is the foundation
of all the contempt of God in the world ? Who ever knew him but blessed
themselvea in that knowledge, were loath to part with it, valued it above the
world ? Who ever knew God clearly but loved him ardently, atuck to him
closely, fell before him humbly, found rest and satisfaction in him ? And
shall not the experiences of those vast numbers who have had a saving
glimpse of him, give us one lift from our heavy ignorance? Paul was no
blockhead, being brought up at the feet of Gamaliel, a learned pharisee.
Nor would the high priest and his companions have appointed a dull person
commissioner againat the Christians ; yet all the knowledge he had before
his acquaintance with Christ, and all the time and pains he had spent in it,
he cojints but loss in comparison of this, Philip, iii. 8. And the best petition
he thought he could put up for the Ephesians was, that they might have ' the
spirit of wisdom in the knowledge of him,' Eph. i. 17.
Motives. 1. Is not the object excellent ? Ps. viii. 1, ' How excellent ia thy name
in all the earth, who hast set thy glory above the heavens !' Do we conceive
God full of wisdom, goodness, righteousness, tenderness, and compassion ?
Can we imagine such a being, clothed with those unchangeable perfections,
the original of all that goodness which ia in any creature, the author of the
beauty of the world ? Can we, I say, pretend to believe there is such a
being, and sit at rest in our ignorance of him ? Shall we pretend to believe
there is a Redeemer, who descended from the throne of majeaty to the vale
of misery, took our flesh when he had no need of it, stooped to the infirmi
ties of our nature, and was full of no other design than a thirst for our wel
fare, carried himself with all sweetness and tenderness in the world, waa the
exact image of his Father ; and have no desire to make more exact in
quiries after him, that we may understand what he is ? Is not God
the Father of lights, the supreme truth, the most delectable object both ofthe
human nature of Christ, the happy angels, and glorified saints ? Ia he not
light without darkneas, love without unkindness, goodness without evil,
purity without filth, all excellency to please, without a spot to distaste ? Are
not all other things infinitely short of him, more below him than a cab of
dung is below the glory of the sun ? And is it not a sacrUege to steal our
understandings from ao excellent an object as the true God, and Jesus
Christ whom he hath sent ? Shall we know creatures and not our Creator ?
Shall we be inquisitive after the nature of plants, beasts, worms, and flies,
and not be acquainted with the excellent author of our souls, who gave us

92 chabnock's wobks. [John XVII. 3.
our knowing faculties? In whose service should our rational powers bei
employed, but in the discovery of the author of them ? If the object be
more glorious than the whole scheme of nature, the knowledge of this object
muat be also exceUent, for as actions, so knowledge, is specified from the
object. (2.) Are not the great works God and Christ have done for us sufficient
aUurements ? Are we not hia creatures, and shall we not know our Creator ?
Are we not his offending creatures, and shall we not know our forbearer ?
May we not be his repaired creatures from the ruins of our fall, and ahaU
we not know onr Redeemer ? Shall we not know that God whose image
we bear, whose mercy we enjoy, in whom we live, move, and retain our
beings ? Shall we not know him by whose death we may live, by whose
blood we may be beautified, by whose resurrection and ascension we may be
dignified ? Shall we be in a capacity to enjoy aU those benefits, and be
willingly ignorant of our benefactor ? Without a knowledge of him who
hath atoned our sins, and purchased that heaven we had forfeited, instead
of that hell we had a thousand times deserved, how can we be thankful to
him for what he hath done ? What shame should cover our faces, what
anguish should gnaw our souls, for our spiritual sloth and ingratitude ! Is
not God love — love in all his ways and methods ? And are onr hearts
so out of love with him as to neglect inquiries after him ? To what end
doth he extend his open hands, but that we might ' seek the Lord ' ? Acts
xvii. 25, 27 ; and is an unthankful ignorance of him a worthy requital ? It
is not enough that we know there ia a God and a Redeemer, but we must
know what they are, what they have done, what glories there are in theii
natures, in their actions ; that is the import of the text, ' to know the only
true God, and Jesus Christ whom thou hast sent.' Not only to know thy
being, but thy excellency ; not only to know that Chriat is aent, but to know
what that Chriat ia who is sent. Redemption waa not for the blessed
angels, yet they ' earnestly desire to look into ' thoae thinga, 1 Peter i. 12.
Christ is more a benefactor to us than to them in regard of redemption.
Why then should their industry in searching be more than ours ? It is not
commendable, it is not lawful to be ignorant of him, who darts his heavenly
beams upon our senses in the works of nature, and upon our souls in the
works of grace. No greater injustice, no greater impiety, than to contemn
or neglect the knowledge of that God whose image we are.
(3.) Hereby only we can satisfy our natural thirst for knowledge. The
desire for knowledge is the peculiar property of man. Hia being rational
differenceth him from all creatures. No creature seeks a redemption from
ignorance but man. Brute animals reat contented in their ignorance ; aud
for man to rest contented in his, is to be as bad or worse than a beast, to
neglect the proper object of knowledge, to know those thinga which are as
good as nothing. It ia more auitable to the nature of man to take pleasure
in the search after truth, than for mighty men to triumph in the conquests
of countries. There is in man a greater ambition for knowledge than for
anything else. No reproach doth more perplex him than to be counted foolish.
Nor doth any man with any pleasure confess his ignorance, because ignorance
belongs not to the original nature of man. As the nature of the will, by the
law of creation, cannot be satisfied with a flashy and drossy good, tiU it
mount to that which is pure and refined, and, after the enjoyment of an in
ferior good, ia still putting the question, ' Who will shew us any good ?' Ps.
iv. 6, so the nature of the understanding pursues after the causes of things,
and cannot rest till it come to the fountain -cause of all the rest, that hath no
cause of itself. When any good is presented to the will, the next question

John X'Vii. a.j the knowledge of god. -^ 93
naturally is, Is there no higher good than this ? So whenN^ truth is pre
sented to the understanding, the next question is, ' Is there no liigher trath
than this ? The will can only be satisfied with that good whichis not ex
ceeded by any other, and the understanding with that truth which is not
excelled by any other. By thia knowledge we are apeaking of, our natural
thirst is delightfully satisfied and increased ; the soul is pleased with what
it attains, and enlarged for what it wants. There is an uncertainty and
doubtfulness in all other knowledge but this. Ia there anything we think we
know but may be battered by others' contradictions ? Have we not often
doubtful thoughts of that one day which we thought we clearly knew the day
before ? Do we not often quarrel with ourselves, and call that our dotage
which a few days before we thought our glory ; and question those sentiments
which a few hours before we thought unquestionable, and as certain as the
daily motions of the sun in the heavens ? But here the foundation is un
shaken : a God there ia, and a God of infinite perfectiona ; a Redeemer there
is, and one of infinite tenderness. The knowledge of him by the word is
certain, like the knowledge of a sunbeam. Here we may drink full draughts
to quench our natural thirst after knowledge, since all things are best and
surest known in their principle ; and the mind of man is restless, likethe needle
in the compass, not to be established without a look to the highest truth.
We are here sure of a mine, and the fruit of attaining will recompense the
pains of inquiring. Let ua therefore be so generous as to believe thia natural
thirst cannot be better satisfied than by knowing God and Christ, the most
amiable objects ; and let us never continue in that ignorance, which, if we
observe our natural desires, we ahould account our shame ; for if there be
any satisfaction to the soul (which of all creatures under heaven approacheth
in its nature nearest to the nature of God, and seems to be boundless in its
operations), it must be in the understanding that which is infinite ; and that
it is neither heaven nor the company of angels, but God and Christ, who
have an infiniteness to answer the pantings of the soul, and make a full replv
to all its cravings. The satisfaction also consists in the certainty of the
object of this knowledge, there being more sound and convincing reasons for
the being of a God, his goodness, omnipresence, necessity of redemption, a
future state of happiness and misery, than for any affairs of this world.
(4.) All are bound by the law of nature to know God. There is not an
obligation by the law of nature to know Christ, unless it be as rational
creatures are obliged to know and believe whatsoever God should reveal unto
them ; but there is a formal obligation upon man as a rational creature to
know his Creator. For since all know that there is a God, by whose care
and providence all in thia world are ruled, tthey are obhged by the aame law
of nature to inquire after thia God, and to endeavour to arrive to the know
ledge of him.* What nation was there, though never so barbarous, that did
not own even in their idolatry the worship of a God ? For they naturally
knowing that there was a God, did naturally know that that God was to be
worshipped. Since, therefore, the law of nature obligeth ns to inquire after
God, he that neglects the knowledge of God sins against the law of nature.
The wrath of God is threatened to be poured out upon them ' that know not
God,' Ps. Ixxix. 6 ; but the wrath of God is not manifested against any
but those that are transgressors of the law.
(5.) This knowledge is only the perfection of the soul. The more excellent
the object is, the more it doth perfect and strengthen, as weU aa gratify, the
faculties of the soul : Prov. i. 9, it is ' an ornament of grace to the head ;'
* Zanch. tom. ii. lib. iv. pp. 249, 250.

94 chabnock's woeks. [John XVII. 3.
a greater orn/ament to the soul than a diadem can be to the head of a
prince. T^e soul of man being enriched with two faculties whereby he is
distinguialned from all other creatures on earth, viz., understanding and will,
his haippiness must be placed in the exercise of those two about their proper
obje/et ; the understanding, in knowing God as the object of happiness, and
tive will in willing to love him. Truth ia the perfection of a rational under-
/'standing ; the highest truth must then be the highest perfection of it. The mind
of man was not created to determine itself in the contemplation of the lower
things of this world. The sight of the beauty of God is the end of the aoul,
and what ia the end of a thing ia the perfection of it. The end of God in the
creation was to communicate his goodness ; the perfection of a aoul, then,
consists in the highest participation of that goodness according to its capacity.
The image of God consists in this knowledge. Col. iii. 10. Every image is
a participation of beams from the original. As darkness is the deformity of
the world, and light the beauty of it, whereby the beauty of everything else
is discovered, so knowledge ia the beauty of the underatanding, as ignorance
is the deformity. If the knowledge of everything had been the perfection
of man's soul, there would have been implanted notions of those things in
the- soul at her original, or they would have been the matter of divine
revelation ; but there is neither of those ; there are not notions implanted ;
the soul could not then be so ignorant of the frame and motion of the body
she dwells in. She knows not by natural, but acquired notions, the several
rooms of the house wherein she resides. How many ages was man ignorant
of the circulation of the blood, the distribution of the chyle through the
verias lactem ! Nor are those things the matter of divine revelation in the word.
Christ discovered not a sublimity of natural knowledge, he spake not a syllable
of those things, but of the discovery of his Father and himself. The Son of
God had not employed himself in divine discoveries, had not the knowledge
and embracing of him been the ornament and happiness of a reasonable
creature. The most natural notions men bring with them into the world, and
which are most obvious to their first notice, are that of a God, and desires
for happiness ; and the discovery of this, and directions in our aspiring to
and preparations for another state of life after this, was the subject of the
revelation made by Christ. Again, as it is the happmess of God to know
and love himself, because he is the highest truth and goodness, so it is upon
the same account the happiness of a creature to know and love God. If we
could possibly suppose any goodness superior to God, it would be the felicity
of God to know and love that goodness ; he could not settle himself upon
his own perfections, but run out in inquiries after, and affections to, that
goodness superior to hia. Certainly the mind of man, being nobler than the
body, ought to be nourished with the choicest food; the perfection ofit cannot
be obtained but by that object which is most perfect in itself, and most
capable to convey perfection to it. God only, as he is the rest of the will,
BO he is the only banquet of the mind. The soul being of a divine original,
it being ' given by God,' Eccles. xii. 7, can only be nourished by divine daintier i
and converses, as the body doth attain its perfection by things of the same
nature with its own composition. Let ua, therefore, out of love to the per
fection of our minds, pursue after this knowledge. The mind is an activei
thing ; it will be busy about something'or other ; pitch it therefore upon the
most excellent and most satisfying object ; employ it not in the picking of
straws, but gathering of pearla. When we employ it about things lower
than God and Christ, without any regard to the adoration and admiration of
them, we degrade our understanding, deprive it of ita true end, and thrust'
it from that worthy employment allotted to it, which was to survey the works

John Xvii. o.j the knowledge of god. 95
of God, read his handwriting, and from thenoe arise to a further knowledge
and admiration of our Creator himself.
(6.) Thia knowledge is highly delightful. All ' knowledge is pleasant to
the soul,' intellectio est quies intellectus, Prov. ii. 10. The natural desires
for knowledge are strongest, therefore when attained the delight is sweetest.
The more reality any object hath, the more pleasure is in it; spiritual things
are most real, and therefore the delightfulest. Natural knowledge is pleasant.
What a sweetness is there in knowing the secrets of nature, and the pheno
mena in the world I The knowledge men have of them, though upon erro
neous principles, is delightful ; much more would it be so if the knowledge
were exact and grounded upon certain principlea of trath. The delights of
learning aurpass the delights of sense, and the pleasure pf a scholar the plea
sure of a swine. The heathen philosophers were so ravished with their chips
of natural knowledge, that they sometimes neglected thoae things which were
necessary for the sustaining their bodies. Now if the views of God in the
dark disguise of his creatures cast the soul into pleasing raptures, the views
of God in the clear glass of Chriat must snatch the soul into the third heavens.
The pleasure of carnal knowledge is to that of divine, as the delight of suck
ing the ivy bush is to that of drinking a sprightly wine. The pleasure is
always answerable to the exceUency of the object delighted in; if therefore
a clear demonstration of nature resolves a man into a rapture, much more
must a cleair demonstration of God, because, as all righteousnesa is from God
as the original, so all truth ia by derivation from God. If therefore truth in
the streams be a delightful prospect, the bubblings of truth in the fountain
must much more put the soul into a spiritual ecstasy. As it is with a man
born blind whose eyes were opened, how would he bless himself to see a
' burning lamp gilding the room where it is ? But the sight of the moon walk
ing in its brightness would enhance his joy, and the sight of the sun in his
noonday glory, obscuring all the lesser lights, would much more pleasure
and astonish him. All ' light is sweet,' but ' it is a pleasant thing to behold
the sun,' Eccles. xi. 7 It ia more pleasant to behold the sun, than all the
diamonds in the world in conjunction ; so the knowledge of God and Christ
must be much more delicious than the knowledge of all creatures, by how
much they are unconceivably more above them. If there be a gladness upon
the sight of a beam emitted from the sun, what must there be in the views
of the sun itself in ita .brightest beauty ! Our very meditationa of God are
sweet, and resolve in a divine joy : Ps. civ. 34, ' My meditationa of him
shaU be aweet, I will be glad in the Lord.' The greater degrees of know
ledge will bestow a stronger influence of delight upon the soul. There is a
rich perfume in the knowledge of Christ, a 'savour:' 2 Cor. ii. 14, 'The
savour of his knowledge ;' ver. 16, ' A savour of life to hfe,' vital to all the
parts of the soul ; and the more lively the knowledge, the more of pleasure.
That which doth most increase strength, is most cordial to the vital parts of
the body.
[1.] It is a pure delight. All other things have their spots, which allay
the sweetness in the knowledge of them. God is purity without spot, light
without darkneas, all excellency to create delight, without any imperfection
to raise disgust. As ignorance and forgetfulnesa of God will render men at
last absolutely sad, without any mixture of joy, so the knowledge of him
will render men, according to ita degreea, as cheerful, aa in the highest de
gree it will hereafter render them happy : it affords a pleasure without froth
or scum.
[2.] It is a fuU pleasure. Others are but drops, this fiUs the soul to the
brim, and leaves httle or no room for any intruders. The angels, that have

96 chabnock's woeks. [John XVII. 3.
the vision of God, hanker not after anything the world calls sweetness. The
satisfaction of the mind is proportionable to the excellency of the object
known. God being therefore the fullest object, affords the fuUeat joy.
[3. J It is a durable delight when all others will wither. Other knowledge
is as a rainbow, pleasant to behold, but quickly vanishing, like the sound of
music in the ear, which pleaseth and expires. The departure of an object
strips the admirer of hia real pleasure. Jonah's joy withered with the gourd
wherein it was placed, but the knowledge of God and Christ ia attended with
a perpetual delight, aince they are objects as durable aa they are excellent ;
for where there is a aaving knowledge, there is an eternal knot made between
the understanding and the spiritual object, which cannot be dissolved.
[4.] It is a pleasure like to that which God has, which consists in reflec
tions upon, and affections to his own nature. God cannot have an infinite
satisfaction in anything besides himself, because nothing is infinite but him
self. Upon this account let us pursue after this wisdom. The lowest de
gree is pleasant, joy is fulfilled in the aoul upon the manifestations of God
by Christ, John xvii. 13, which mounts to a greater height as we rise in
higher degrees. Upon every fresh discovery, new joys discloae themselves.
The search after God is a greater happiness than the fruition of anything in
the world can be. But when the understanding, the higheat faculty, and
God, the chief truth and good, meet together, an unexpressible satiafaction
must be the result of such a meeting. God being infinitely better than aU
creatures, the knowledge of him must be infinitely more delightful than the
knowledge of all things besides. And though he cannot be perfectly known,
yet this doth not blast the pleasure, as the heavens are too boundleas for our
eye, and the stars too numerous for our account, yet it ia pleasant to behold
the one and view the other.
(7.) If we do not labour to know God, we endeavour, as much as in us
lies, to make God lose all the glory of his creation and revelation, because
no creature under the heavens is a capable subject of this but man. AU
other creatures, that have sense without understanding, can only perceive
those things which are objects of sense, as colours, odours, &c., but God
being a Spirit, faUs not within the limita of aense. Man only was made with
an understanding to know the invisible God. The contempt of this know
ledge, or the neglect of it, with a preferring the knowledge of everything else
before him, is to deprive him of the glory of his work. AU our natural gifts
wUl not make us immediately serviceable to God, without a spiritual eye.
This knowledge, though in one ignorant of the world, renders hun more
capable to pay immediately the glory due to God, than the greatest scholar
with his phUosophical wick of oil. A sunbeam reflected from the waU gives
more heat and warmth than a thousand lamps. It makes God a loser in
the glory of his gospel revelation. Knowledge is the basis of aU our motions
and affections to God which the gospel enjoins. The wheels were fuU of
eyes, which aome think* refers to the great measure of knowledge God
would afford in the time of the gospel, Ezek. i. 18. When God should
dwell in the worid in glorious and majestic representations, the wheels, the
people, should be full of eyes. If we neglect then the knowledge of God, we
hinder him (as to us) both of the end of creation, wherein he hath made
himself legible, and the end of his gospel dispensation, wherein he hath made
himself evident in hia Son.
(8.)_ It is easy to have a knowledge of God and Christ. What difficulty
there is in it, lies not in God, or in the means of revelation, but in ourselves.
As the law might be observed, but for the corruption of our flesh,— Rom.
* Lightfoot's Temple, chap, xxxviii. p. 253.

John XVil. 3.] the knowledge op god. 97
viii. 3, ' The law was weak through the flesh,' — so God might be spiritually
seen, but for the soreness of our eyes. It lies not in the object, but in our
indisposition, in regard of the enmity of our nature, and the unworthy notions
we have naturally of God. No wiadom is less admired and less affected,
men hate wisdom and thereby love death, Prov. viii. 36, there being a dis
similitude between the nature of God and the corrupt nature of man. No
thing so easy to be known as God, though nothing so hard to be searched
out unto perfection. The sun doth viaibly offer its beams to every eye that
will open itaelf, and let him shine upon it. Nothing more easy to be seen
than the sun, yet nothing more hard to be pierced into and fully understood.
If we do not know God, it is not for want of hght in him, but for want of will
in us. He hath not so clouded himself in thick darkness, that it is impos
sible to have aome prospect of him. He hath set his footsteps in the crea
tures, and unveiled his face in the Scriptures ; he hath made himself
intelligible in his worka and in his word, and breaks out upon our under
standings in both. What is knowable of God in order to practice ia not closed
up from our sight, we have rich discoveries of his holiness and excellency in his
word, which informs us what our behaviour should be towards him. We
must not apprehend God to be so mean a being as that we can easily satisfy
all our curiosities about him. Know him perfectly we cannot, unless we had
an understanding as inflnite as his own ; and indeed we might well be
ashamed of that God, that were so little as to be measured by our finite
capacities. Yet so far as doth conduce to our practice and comfort, God is
as intelligible as anything in this world, and more ; we may know more of
his original goodness than of the derivative goodness of any creature. His
attributes are as evident to us as the quality of anything we see ; we may as
soon know that God is good, and excellent, and holy, as we may know that the
wall is white or no. We have higher principlea of the knowledge of him.
We have sense to view the effects of his goodness, we have reaaon to draw
concluaions from the excellency of creatures, to inform us of the transcendent
excellency of God ; and we have revelation, which surmounts the other two
principles of aense and reaaon. What though we cannot know his essence ?
Do we know the essence of any one thing in the world, or can we satisfy
ourselves in all our inquiries about it ? His perfections are unfathomable
by us, yet he is obvious to our minds if we will not close our eyes. We
can as easily see the sea when we stand upon the shore, aa it ia imposaible
for us to reach with our eyes the bounds of it. But suppose the knowledge
of God we speak of were very hard, ahall the difficulty which whets us in
other things take off our edge in this ? Who can boast of the knowledge of
any one creature ? Yet since the world began men have been peering into
the secrets of them. Multitudes have been busy in the search of natural things,
and the difficulty is less affrighting now than it was before ; shall then the
seeming difficulty of the most satisfying objects close up our desires and en
deavours in the search of them ? It should rather add spurs to our diligence.
Paul's foresight of what was out of his reach slackened not his desires and
endeavours of attaining, PhUip. iii. 12, 13. The knowledge of Christ is
easy ; had it not been so, he would not have so sharply rebuked his disciples
for their ignorance : Mat. xv. 16, ' Are ye yet vvithout understanding ?' Is
he not the subject of the whole Scripture, and, like a golden ore, runs through
every vein in the mine ? He is the centre wherein all the lines of the Scrip
ture meet ; we can open no part of it but something of Chriat strikes upon
our minds, as light in the day upon the opening of our eyes. ' In the volume
of the book it is written of him,' in the first promise, and in the last Hne of
VOL. IV. G

98 chabnock's wobks. [John XVII. 3.
the Scripture. He is the Alpha and Omega of all revelations and discoveries;
it ia therefore our own fault if we will be in darkness under a noonday sun.
God desires we should know him ; why doth he else compare himself to so
many objects in the visible world, but that we may have frequent remem
brances of his excellency ; and ascribe to his incorporeal nature the members
of a man, as arms, ears, &c., which are incompatible with a spiritual being,
but that, knowing ourselves and our own frame, we may rise up to a know
ledge of him?
(9.) Consider, is not our time spent unprofitably in everything else when
we neglect this ? All other wisdom is perishing, this heavenly wiadom only
endurea for ever. WUl the akill in trades remain with any man, and be an ad
vantage to him in another world ? Not but that there must be time spent in
learning and improving your callings for the good of yourselves, families, and
the community ; but not so much as to swallow up the time due to the other.
There is a satisfaction in natural learning ; but what advantage is that in
another world, where worldly wisdom and learned subtleties shall take no
place ? There will be no use of them in eternity, whither we are traveUing.
It is the knowledge of God and Christ wo shall there be examined about; we
may have the greatest wisdom of the world, and be without this saving know
ledge at the last day, and receive the punishment of devils, instead of the
happiness of Christians. Christ never put up a thanksgiving to his Father
for the learning of the pharisee, or the wisdom of statesmen, but for the re
velation of himself to the babes ofthe world, Mat. xi. 25. The knowledge of
a good man only is understanding, Prov. ix. 10. It is a dreadful place against
the wise as well as the mighty men of the earth : 1 Cor. i. 26, ' Not many
wise men after the flesh, not many mighty.' Prudence and power; abstracted
from divine knowledge, are contemptible in the eyes of God. Here and there
one wise and mighty man marked out for an happy eternity, but not many.
All knowledge below this is but the knowledge of trifles. In other things,
we lose our time for the most part ; by this, we gain an happy eternity.
Other knowledge will not prevent the loss of ourselves ; in this, we find God
and ourselves too. Let us not therefore sell our understandings for nought,
as God complains they did his people, Isa. Iii. 3. Other gettings are incon
siderable to the gain of understanding, Prov. iv. 7. Oh that we could take
as much pains to get thia, which is eternal hfe, as the heathens have taken
for human aciences, which could not aecure them from eternal death, and
aeek for it with as much industry and as high a value of it as we would for
silver and hidden treasures ! Prov. ii. 4, 5.
There are hindrances of thia knowledge, and helps to it.
Hindrances. (1.) Corrupt affections. When the apostle had exhorted
the Ephesians to be ' renewed in the spirit of their minds,' Eph. iv. 23, he
seems to add directions to his exhortation ; and one is, verse 26, to be
watchful over their passions, ' Let not the sun go down upon your wrath.'
Else they would give place to the devU, who is the great enemy of divine
light, and the ' ruler of the darkness of this world.' Pasaiona are the fumes
of hell, to cloud and obstruct the beama of Christ from shining upon the
mind ; these distract the native force of the soul, and choke aU beginnings
of divine meditation. Who can learn anything in the midst of a storm ? A
serenity of mind is a way to know God : Ps. xlvi. 10, ' Be still, and know
that I am God.' A turbulent spirit is a bar to it. The soul overcast with
unworthy passions is no more fit for this light, than the sky thronged with
clouds is for the light of the sun, or a foul glass to reflect an image. Light
and inconstant apirits have not the knowledge of God, any more than running
water can receive the force of a sunbeam, which gUdes away from one after an-

John XVII. 3.] the knowledge of god. 9^
other, and remains under the power and force of none. You can never set
a stamp upon a floating cork till you take it out of the water. Corrupt
affections warp the underatanding to irregular operationa.
(2.) Sensuality. Sensuality, and a want of the Spirit, the great en-
Ughtener, are inseparable companions : Jude 19, ' Sensual, having not the
Spirit.' A generous knowledge can never grow up in a sensual spirit, any
more than a generous plant can in a marsh always covered with salt water.
An atheist may be said to know God as well 'as one steeped in sensuality,
which is practical atheism. Those that deny God in their worka never
understood him in their mind : 1 Sam. ii. 12, ' The sons of Eli were sons
of Belial,' and therefore ' knew not the Lord.' This being a familiarity with
hell, can never be a means of acquaintance with God. The way to be heavenly
wise is not to be brutish. 'Laughter is mad, and sensualists mad men, who
can as well understand God aa bedlams can understand sobriety. The more
the soul is sunk in bodily pleasures, the more feeble and unactive it is, the
more languishing and sickly ; the more it soars above them, the more lively
and freah it appears. The heathen philosophers could therefore prescribe
the soul's abstraction from the body to be necessary to divine knowledge and
meditation. So great a privilege as this is not becoming one that is in a
professed slavery to the flesh. The Jews say that the sensuality of the
seventy that were with Moses, when they saw the vision of God, was the
cause they had not a more perfect sight ; from Exod. xxiv. 11, ' They saw
God, and did eat and drink ;' understanding it not of the actions afterwards,
but of the reason why God gave them not such a measure of the Spirit as
Moses (which is signified by laying on his hand), because they were soaked
much in sensual delights. Who can see the glory of the sun where all the
windows and gaps, through which the light should peep, are daubed and
stopped with a thick clay ? While we are clogged with the^thick and filthy
mire of base lusts, we cannot behold the glory of God and Christ.
(3.) Carnal conceptions of God. We are naturally apt to frame a notion
of God, according to the complexion of worldly things, or our own passions ;
to think God ' such an one aa ouraelves,' Ps. 1. 21, hereby erecting an earthly
and vicious deity. The heathen had at first the knowledge of God : Rom.
i. 19, ' God hath shewed it to them;' and they are said to ' know God.' The
true God discovered himself; God would not have discovered a false god to
them. But they not only neglected the improvement of this knowledge, but
mixed the carnal brood of their own opinions and resemblances with it.
And by this mixture of the natural knowledge they had of God, and the
corrupt notions they entertained of what this God was ; by this unnatural
mixture, I say, was produced a monstrous and misshapen image of God in
their minds, and in the world, unworthy of God, and unworthy of a rational
soul ; as when some genuine and true principle mixeth with some foul and
carnal conception, the issue ia monstrous. Men study to frame such notions
of God aa may maintain their pride and wantonneas, and feed their lusta,
not satisfy their understandings. Such errors in the head hinder us from
a spiritual sight of God, as a mass of congealed vapours in the head darkens
or tinctures the eye that it cannot rightly discern objects before it. The
head must be purged of .that flux of humours which discharge themselves to
that organ, before the blemish it hath occasioned be cured. Erroneous
prepossessions must be displaced before good principles can take root in the
underatanding ; the mind must be unclouded of those mists before it can dis
cern the most excellent objects.
(4.) Earthliness. A soul steeped in earth cannot attain divine things.
Clogged wings cannot mount into the air. The mud of the earth is a screen

100 ohaenock's wobks. [John XVII. 8.
between the beams of God and eye of the soul. When the mind is covered
with thick clay, it cannot behold the admirable things of the gospel, or re
ceive any impressions of the Spirit on it, any more than those that work all
the day in deep mines, under ground, can behold the sun. A little of the
world dehghted in, will hinder the sight of God. Though the sun be vast,
the heavens large, and the sun dart his beams round about the world, yet
if a small brass farthing be laid upon the eye it cannot see the sun, or the
beams of it which shine round about it. John v. 44, ' How can you believe,
that receive honour one of another ?' Ambitious and covetous men are ao
possessed with their immoderate desires after honours and riches, that they
cannot much mind natural knowledge, more proportioned to the genius and
gust of their soula, and much less divine. The mind of man cannot at one
and the same time attend several charges ; when the strength is spent one
way, it is languishing another. Earthliness hinders the knowledge of Christ,
and bars out a right estimation of the things of heaven. A man brought up
in a dungeon cannot know the excellency of superior bodies. A worm that
dweUs always under the earth may as well see the sun, as a man whose
eyes and mind are in the centre of the earth understand and see God.
Worldly spirits have more of the earth-worm than the man. We must
therefore do as Christ bids the blind man, wash the clay off our eyes in the
pool of Siloam. The more of earth we have, the less capable we are of the
illuminations of heaven ; the centre of the earth is dark and obscure, and is
not penetrated by the light of the sun. ,
(5.) Pride of reason. When we ' lean to our own understanding,' we
' acknowledge not God,' Prov. iii. 5, 6. The phariaeea were the proudest
of all the people (John vii. 49, ' Have any ofthe phariaeea believed on him?'),
and they were the most ignorant of gospel truths ; they would have their
own opinions a rule to aU the people. Pride being the devil's sin, cannot be
pleasing to God. He that looks upon himself too much, is like to look up
to heaven too little ; we cannot behold ourselves and heaven together at the
same instant. If God hide spiritual revelations from any, it is from ' the
wise and prudent,' Mat. xi. 25, 30, i. e. from those that think themselves
wise enough ; and it is dreadful to consider, that it ia God's pleasure, and
he hath Christ's thanks for it. They both concur against pride : God will not
open the veil to such, and Christ applauds his Father's proceedings. The
first lesson Christ teacheth in his school, being the doctrine of self-denial,
as a foundation of all other learning, is point blank against this. We enjoy
most of Christ when we feel ouraelves empty, and we are like to know most
of Christ when we acknowledge ourselves ignorant. The Laodicean church
conceited she had clear eyes, and therefore knew not her blindness, and
desired no eye-salve, Rev. iii. 17, 18 ; such wiU be contrary to the apostle's
rule, James i. 19, &c. Quick to speak, and slow to hear, and God never
sets such a divine plant as this in such rocky ground ; they are heights and
fortifications which hinder us from the knowledge of Christ, i-v}/w^a7-a Tiai
lyjjoiiipjara, 2 Cor. x. 4, 5.
(6.) Curiosity. Either desiring to know, only that we may know, not
that we may obey, or prying into things too high. Curious inquiries about
things whioh are not revealed, hinder that knowledge which ia saving from
making any great impression. When God discovered his glory to the
Israelites, in giving the law, he ' set bounds to the people,' Exod. xix. 12, 21,
that they might not be too busily inquisitive. The gospel, though more
open and large, hath stiU its hmits : ' It is not for you to know the times
and the seaaona, which the Father hath put in his own power,' Acts i. 7.
To desire to know more than God would have us know, is to come short of

John XVH. 3.] the knowledge of god. 101
that which otherwiae we might be capable of knowing. When Adam would
aspire to a greater measure of knowledge than God would allow him, he fell
thereby into a brutish state. God is to be judge of what ia fit to be revealed,
and if we would go further, we entrench upon his wisdom and sovereignty.
There is a wisdom to sobriety, Rom. xii. 3. Curious disputes are the same
in spirituals, with the extravagancies of bedlams ; while men think to
strengthen, they crack their brains, as the foolish fly approaching too near
the candle, loseth both -its eyes and wings. God makes foolish the wisdom
of this world, turns such aspiring wisdom back into folly. The wise man
compares knowledge to honey, Prov. xxv. 16, which if eaten in too great a
quantity, provokes vomiting ; instead of pleasing, it weakens and hurts the
stomach. Superfluous inquiries after God are the disease of the soul,* and
are so far from drawing the veil, or making it thinner and more penetrable,
that it thickens it and makes it more obscure.
(7.) Inquiring no further than what hath been imprinted on us by educa
tion ; or to take truth upon trust from man, to ' have the faith of Christ
in respect of persons,' James ii. 1. Though we may know a spiritual truth,
yet it is not in a spiritual manner ; the object of knowledge is good, but the
manner of knowledge lame, and wanta its due rectitude. When we receive
any truth from a human authority, or in respect to a person, we receive it
upon no better an account than we should a fable delivered by the same
hand.f Custom, tradition, and the examples of others, are the rise of the
knowledge many men have of God and Christ. It ia true, indeed, we come
to know a atar by another's pointing us to it, but afterwards we come to
know it by its own light.
Directions, both for the attainment and improvement of divine knowledge.
1. Prayer. This is a general means for everything we want, but ought to
be more pressed than any, both because of its universal influence, and the
common deplorable neglect or slight performance of it. The knowledge of
God springa not from a natural but a divine hght ; it is not an extract of
nature, a branch growing up from the root of our own abilities, but of a
divine original wrought by the ' Spirit of wisdom and revelation,' Eph. i. 17 ;
it is not the prize of a quick imagination, but a bended knee ; the apostle
else had not been so earneat a aupplicant in this behalf for the Ephesians.
It is not the proper act of our own understanding, but a reception of illapses
and dartinga from God.j An hour therefore of sincere prayer may do more
in this case, than the prayerless inquiries of a life longer extended than
Methuselah's. If, therefore, we are to implore the assiatance of God in
the works of our daily callings, much more ought we to seek to him for this
treasure, the keys whereof he keeps in his own hands. Now there is a
double act of God in thia, which makes prayer more necessary than in any
other case that is not of the like concern. There is to be the unveiling his
face, and the unsealing our eyes ; the removing the clouds from his majesty,
and the darkness from our minds ; a clearing the object, and discharging the
faculty of its blindneas. The heathens considered this, when they apprehended
God to be the intellectus agens, purifying the phantasmata for our under
standing. A human understanding, without outward revelation and inward
eye-salve, is and will be a miserable blind creature.
(1.) God only can open the mind. A lost eye can never be restored by
a created power, nor the blind understanding opened but by Christ's touch,
Luke iv. 18. The flrst Adam's sin put out the candle, the second Adam's
grace relights it. There is a faculty, a ' spirit in man,' in miserable fallen
* rns ^tj^ns voiftifia iffTi TO xaxeas xaJ Tttptt^yZs l^tjnT-/ vre^) B-£ov. — Basil.
¦J- Keynolds. J Fucin. in Dionys. de divin. nomin. cap, xx.

102 chabnock's woeks. [John XVII. 3.
man, but ' the inspiration of the Almighty gives understanding,' Job xxxii. 8.
.Since our understanding is corrupted by sin, and filled with error, it is not
sufficient to understand the thinga of God without an internal illumination,
as well as an external revelation. All our sufficiency for intellection, as weU
as action, is of God. We are ' not sufficient of ouraelves to think a good
thought,' 2 Cor. iii. 5. Can we then have quickening apprehensions and
hvely thoughts of God without God ? We can no more understand the
gospel withput grace, than we can understand God without the gospel ; for
those things in the gospel which may conduct us to him, are foolishness in
'the judgment of the most elevated corrupt nature, 1 Cor. ii. 14. Why were
the Israehtes, that had seen more miraculous providences of God, ignorant
of him, but because ' God gave them not an heart to perceive ' ? Deut. xxix. 4.
We may indeed by study find a proposition so clear as to engage our assent,
but not without supernatural infiuence have such a knowledge of God as to
change our aouls. We cannot ascend to that which is infinite, without the
power of that infinite ; nor make ourselves like to an infinite being, without
the communication of that infinite strength. If Christ as God had not
opened the disciples' understanding, his teaching them as man would have
been labour in vain, and made as little entrance into their hearta as into
those of the obstinate phariaeea, Luke xxiv. 45. He diacoursed to them the
true sense of Scripture as man, but imprinted the power of it upon their
hearts aa God. There must be an inward hght in the eye, the instrument
of aight, as well as in the air, the medium of vision ; and inward air in the
ear, to hear the sound, as well as outward air to produce and convey the
sound. God is not known by us without an operation of God in us. David
evinceth this, who though he had an enlightened mind, pretends not a power
of further enlarging it, but calls upon God for a supernatural virtue : ' Open
my eyes, that I may behold wondrous things.'
(2.) God only can reveal the object. God only can make himself known.
We see not the sun but by the sun ; we see other things by the sun, but we
aee not the sun by any other light than its own. True notions of God
spring from grace upon the soul, as light from the sun upon the eyes. And
as the sun, ao God and Christ appear most ravishing in their own light. As
none can know God perfectly but himself, so none can make him known to
us but himself. The discovery of himself is his own free act and motion.
What creature is able to force the veil from before his face against his mind ?
The first spark and the succceeding additiona are from him. Moaes had
the first revelation of God from God, and when his heart breathed after
more, he hath recourse to God for satisfaction : Exod. xxxiii. 18, ' I beseech
thee, shew me thy glory.' Chriat appropriates this to the Father : Mat.
xi. 25, ' Father, thou hast revealed them.' The title of Father of lights
belongs only to him. What the sun is in regard of natural, that is God in
regard of spiritual light. The disciples own Christ the author of his own
manifestation, in that question wherein they admire the riches of his grace :
John xiv 22, ' How is it that thou wilt manifest thyself to ua, and not to the
world ? ' Light cannot break out without his pleasure, and none can stop
it when he is pleased to dart it. Indeed, all knowledge, under what title
soever, is from God, as well as our being, and the beings of all creatures.
As our faculties are the products of his power, so every endowment of them
is the fruit of hia bounty. Other knowledge is from him aa an indulgent
Creator, this from him as a merciful Redeemer ; that, by the Spirit brood
ing over the world by a common work of inspiration (as he brought the
creatures at the first creation into form and beauty), this by a more parti
cular energy, as a special gift upon the Mediator's account, teaching all

John XVII. 3.] the knowledge op god. 103
things necessary to be known of God, and breathing immediately upon the
spirit of man.
If it be, then, God's gift upon both accounts, it must be sought at his
hands. Holy men have always done so. David got most of his divine
learning upon his knees. How often do you find him with his bended knee,
elevated eyes, and strong cries : Ps. cxix., ' Teach me thy statutes,' ' open
mine eyes,' ' give me understanding,' ' teach me thy judgments and know-
. ledge,' ' make thy face to shine upon thy servant,' &c. Wisdom is attained
by asking, James i. 5. This course will not want success. God is near to
all that call upon him,' Ps. cxlv. 18, near them in his favour, clearing up
their apprehensions of him, new stamping their minds and hearts. They see
most of a thing who are nearest to it ; prayer brings us before God upon
his throne of grace in his majesty and mercy. It is a leaning upon Christ's
boaom ; and the disciple who enjoyed that familiarity with our Saviour on
earth, knew most of his mind. Prayer will as it were bring down God to
be our instructor, and one hour of God's teaching will be more fruitful than
thousands of years of our qwn study. One appearance of the sun ia better
than a world full of torches. How soon can he flash a strong light upon
our minds, command the scales fi:om our eyes, as soon as he did darkness
from the chaos ; and as easily by a word create a new eye, as well as a
mighty sun ? He is a non-such for instruction : Job xxxvi. 22, ' Who
teacheth like him ? ' docet et imperat.'^ None so clearly, none so pleasantly,
none so speedily. But we must earnestly beg it, there must be a cry, a
lifting np the voice, Prov. ii. 3, 5, 6, then shall we ' find the knowledge of
God,' for ' out of hia mouth comea understanding.' Our earnestness in
desiring it cannot come near the pleasure of God in bestowing it, when he
finds it longed for. And why should not the natural desire for knowledge,
when terminated upon a right object, break forth into as strong prayer, as
our natural desire for happiness ; both appetites seeming to be with an
equal force implanted in man ; desire of felicity as the end, and desire
of knowledge as the means to it ? As our happiness, which is naturally
desired, cannot be attained but from God, so the knowledge, which ia the
way to it, cannot come from any spring but the grace of God, who ought
upon this account to be solicited by us. And truly, I think, the great
reason why men come so short in this knowledge, is because they are negli
gent in this means, and depend upon their own inquiries and search more
than upon God's inspirations.
2. Study the Scripture much. He that would gain knowledge, would pick
out the choicest authors, and turn over the beat booka. The subject of the
gospel is God, and God manifested in the flesh. The Scriptures ' testify ot
Christ,' John v. 39 ; they are the swaddling .bands wherein he hath been
wrapped up since his first incarnation, as the seed of the woman in the
promise. Other books may dart some light of human knowledge, but this
is a beam of divine. It acquaints us with the most excellent truth, which
makes us both wise and happy. It is the record of our Saviour's declara
tions of the name of God, which was a principal intent of his coming.
Therein are discovered the treasures of wisdom and knowledge, and a wisdom
which none of the princes of this world knew, none of the great conquerors
or learned philosophers. All spiritual discoveries drawn from thence have
the seal and stamp of God upon them, and none else. God hath, as it were,
shut up his Spirit, in the gospel. It is ' the ministration of the Spirit,' 2
Cor. iii. 8, i. e. whereby the Spurit, who is lo teach us aU things, is conveyed
to the soul. Knowledge • built upon any other principle is nothing but a
* Castalio.

104 chabnock's woeks. [John XVII. 3.
frame of delusions. It is a dangerous thing to think those things of God
which are true, unless we are certain of the truth of them ; and where can
we have a convincing evidence, but from hia own revelation ? The gospel
is called the face of Christ, 2 Cor. iv. 6, ' To give the light of the know
ledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ,' i. e. aa some interpret
it, in the gospel. Indeed, he hath imprinted his own features, and the re
presentations of God, in the gospel, that as in the Old Testament we may
behold his glorious outgoings in creation and providence, the deliverances of
hia people, and punishing hia enemies, so in the New we may view his
glorious counsels of redeeming goodness ; as the looking upon the picture
of a friend preserves the memory of his features, and recalla to mind the
memorable actiona done by him, and preserves, if not increaseth, the know
ledge of him. The word is a glass wherein we behold the reflections of
God, James i. 23, and it is perfect, Ps. xix. 7. It discovers as much of tbe
nature and amiableness of God as can be drawn in lines and letters, and pre
sents the soul with such attractives in him as turns it fully to him ; as it fol
lows, ' converting the simple.' If the beauty of the Lord was seen in the
legal sanctuary, Ps. xxvii. 4, much more in the evangelical transcript, so
plain that he that is a student in it, when translated to heaven, may know
God and Christ by what knowledge he had of their lineaments in the word,
as the remembrance of the features in a picture will direct us to know the
person when we meet him. The angels themselves seem to be put off to
gather their knowledge of Christ from the flowers of the word as dehvered
to the church, and in the church : Eph. iii. 10, ' The wisdom of God is made
known by the church to the principahtiea in heavenly places.' It is made
known to the church by the word, to angels by the church, so that the
knowledge of the angels is ultimately resolved into the word as the medium
of it. As it ia a means to gain it, so it is a means to increase it ; there are
new amazing wonders to be seen in it. Though many diamonds have been
cut out of a rock, yet there are more atill for the workman's skill and in
dustry. While the powers in heaven are instructed by it, the most elevated
understanding on earth cannot be above it. He that looks often into it wiU
view more by an eye of faith than all the world can by their eyes of reason
in conjunction. By this instrument, we shall behold the greatness, majesty,
loveliness, and love of God, more than any rational discoveries can present
to us ; as a man by an instrument sees the magnitude and glory of the
stars, which an ignorant man thinks to be little sparks of light, like those in
his chimney. The ignorance among us may be charged upon the neglect of
studying this, or the slight reading of it. Some will plead the intricacy of
it for their neglect. Not to say that, aa to the main design of it, it is plain
in itself; let such that excuse themselves upon this account consider whether
they are not conscious to themselves that they never spent the tenth part,
nay, perhaps not a dram, of that industry, zeal, and desire in the searching
that hidden mine of spiritual treasures, as they have spent in heaping np
the perishing trifles of this worid. I will appeal to thoae that do make it
their business to inquire into the word, whether they flnd not themselves to
have more lively apprehensions of God, and feel, and taste divine truths in
another kind of manner, than they experiment in other books. Let the ex
periences of others move those that neglect it. Manna dropped from heaven
was more relishing in itself than all the meat of the Israehtes' cooking ; it
waa angela' food. And for the manner of conversing with it, the laying down
rules would be too copious. Consider well what you read ; stay upon the
descriptions you find of God and Christ, dig into them as into a mine ; rest
not till you find the satisfying importance of them, till you feel your hearts

John XVIL 3.J the knowledge op god. 105
stir, and rise up in an adoration of him. ' The secret of the Lord is with
them that fear him,' Ps. xxv. 14, ' and he wiU shew them his covenant.'
Consider the inward virtue and efficacy of it, as a wise man will the virtue
of the flowers and plants, aa well as their beauty and gay clothing. And
while you study the history of the gospel, pray for the revelation of the
Father. Flesh and blood may read it, but the Father only reveals it savingly.
The eye may see the letters, the head may understand the sense, when the
Spirit opens not the heart to feel the warmth.
3. Entertain with affection every spiritual motion. We can no more pro
fit in divine knowledge without the breathing of the Spirit, and the dews of
his grace, than the labour of an husbandman can come to any maturity
without the warm irradiations of the sun, and the showers of rain. The
more solemn discoveries of God and Christ to the heart were reserved for
the appearance of the Spirit, upon which account Christ, while in the flesh,
is said but to ' begin to teach,' Acts i. 1. The foundation was laid by
Christ, but the consummation of this discovery, and the last line, was re
served for the Spirit. Christ declared the name of God, and his own com
mission, but the Spirit afterwards was to verify and confirm this commission
as authentic in the minds of men. He is therefore called ' the Spirit of
truth,' as testifying the authority of Christ : John xv. 26, ' The Spirit of
truth shall testify of me ;' and also, in regard of his conduct of men into
truth : John xvi. 13, 'The Spu-it of truth will guide you into all truth.' He
was first to demonstrate to their minds that Christ was authorised by God,
and that his declarations of God were firm, true, and ratified in heaven, and
then to guide them into those truths which were necessary for their comfort
and practice ; to open the secret resolves of eternity concerning the work of
redemption, and draw the curtain from before those mysteries which the eye
of nature was not able to reach. The first work of the Spirit is that of
knowledge. He communicates himself to our understandings, before he
makes impressions upon our wills, as the sun first enlightens the air before
he warms it (knowledge is that in the mind, which light is in the air). For,
aa the Spirit dealt with Christ, so he deals with his members ; he first rests
upon them as a Spirit of wisdom, understanding, and knowledge, Isa. xi. 2,
3, and acts in that order wherein Chriat ia presented to us by God, first wis
dom, then righteousness and sanctification, 1 Cor. i. 30. Whatsoever,
therefore, the Spirit doth by virtue of his office, must be listened tq^; and
every offer, every motion, he makes for our instruction, must be entertained;
for though God hath appointed many outward instructors, yet there is but
one internal teacher, viz. the Holy Ghost. And there is a resistance of the
Spirit in this work of knowledge, as well aa in the work of grace ; and the
resistance lies chiefly here, because the Spirit's first work is to rectify the
judgment in the nature of God, and thinga belonging to God, and present
the excellency of the knowledge of Christ ; and when thia is entertained, he
reflects it upon the will and affections, that the faculties may regularly fol
low one another in the order of working, and the aoul, in turning to God,
may act, and be acted, as a rational creature ; for while he is busy in reduc
ing the soul to its original constitution and true nature, he would not move
the soul against the primitive order of nature, but in such a manner as ita
return and obedience may be regular and becoming a rational creature.
When, therefore, a man refuseth the motions of the Spirit, whereby his mind
may be informed, the, Spirit is resisted by him. Every motion is a beam
from heaven : let ua take heed of shutting our eyea against it, lest it be
snatched away by the interposition of some dark cloud, and we never enjoy
the hke again, but lose the Spirit of wisdom and revelation, and thereby the

106 chabnock's woeks. [John XVII. 8.
most exceUent wisdom in earth or heaven. If we neglect his motions, we
put a slight upon that person, whereby only God reveals divine things tons:
1 Cor. ii. 10, ' God hath revealed them to us by his Spirit.' We contemn
the only instructor that can acquaint us with God ; ' the things of God
knows no man, but the Spirit of God,' ver. 11, i. e. no man knows them but
by the Spirit. It is exclusive of aU men, though the strongest rationalists.
If we listen not, then, to this Spirit, we shall receive a stronger ignorance
as a reward of our frowardness. Would any man stop his ears, or shut his
doors against an angel sent by God from heaven upon a happy errand ?
Behold in every divine motion a greater than an angel, yea, than all the
illuminated blessed angels in heaven. Since it is, therefore, a beam from
heaven shooting in upon the mind, follow it, and it will direct to a fuller
prospect of light, as when a ray of the aun strikes through a cranny of a
wall, the laying the eye close to the hole will help us to see more, and per
haps the body of the sun from whence it streamed. If we, therefore, give
way to the motions of the Spirit, it may be with us as with the apostles, who
were dull and ignorant in the time of their master, and, just before the ascen
sion of Christ, betrayed their ignorance of his design in coming, in proposing
to him the settling of an earthly kingdom, Acts^i. 6. But when the Spirit
came upon them, how did he refine their minds, burn up the chaff of their
grosser conceits ! How noble were their apprehensions of the spirituality of
Christ's kingdom, and their souls filled with divine light ! So may we, in
our measures, if we wait for the Spirit, and observe his movings upon us.
Let us, therefore, hereby give encouragement to the Spirit to inform us with
delight, who is no less pleased than our Saviour was, when any received his
instructions, and stretched out their souls to catch his gales. More is
learned from such a teacher than from a multitude of ignorant men, if we
were to live for ever with them. The neglect of thoae motions is the worm
at the root of all our perfections, and continues the bhndness of our minds,
and the perversity of our hearts. It concerns us, therefore, to look to this.
4. Labour and long for new hearts. As there is an enmity to God in
lapsed nature, so there is a disrelish of God in the knowledge of him, till the
vitiated palate be cured by the removal of the infectious humour. The dis-
eaae of the eye must be removed before we can discern things plainly and
dehghtfuUy. Our natural eye while distempered is made worse by looking
long or often upon an object, and can take no pleasure in the view of any
thing. That eye that would gaze upon the sun must be aun-like, of the
nature of the aun : the soul must become divine before it can know the
divinity. As no man can act, so no man can understand well divine things
unless he be in a divine state ; and therefore no unconverted person can in
that state have thia knowledge. Who can behold that which he turns his
back upon ? He that turns his back upon the sun may aee the earth, but
not the aun, in that posture. The knowledge of God, a relation to him as
his people, and a covenant interest in him as their God, were all founded
upon a turning to him with the whole heart : Jer. xxiv. 7, ' For they shall
return unto me with their whole heart ;' so Hosea vi. 1, 3. First let us
return to the Lord, then shall we know. It is then that God pours out the
Spirit as a living spring, and gives him to be our tutor and instructor in
divine learning, to ' make known his words ' to us when we ' tum at his re
proof,' Prov. i. 23. Then shall we view everything with a new light, and
see something more in God, his word and ways, than we did before ; as men,
when they begin to study some art, look upon all things in a new manner
and form, according to the rules of that art they are engaged in. An unre
generate man cannot have lively and quick apprehenaiona of God, no more

John XVII. 3.] the knowledge of god. 107
than a blind man can frame a true and diatinct conception of coloura and
light, notwithstanding his hearing several discourses about the essential pro
perties of them. As sense only can perceive visible objecta, and reason
rational, so spiritual sense only can perceive spiritual objects. A natural
man can no more judge of spiritual things as spiritual than a beast can
judge of the exceUency of moral virtue. Saving knowledge of God, in order
of nature, follows regeneration, though the historical knowledge of God, the
object, precedes it ; for God being the object of religion and conversion
must be known before any act can be exercised about them.
5. Obedience and purity of heart is the way to increase this knowledge.
The freer the eye is from bad humours, the more able it is delightfully to
behold the sun. In a full righteousness God's face is beheld hereafter : Ps.
xvii. 17, ' As for me, I will behold thy face in righteousness,' and according
to imperfect measures of righteousness we behold his face here. Our Saviour
makes purity to precede, and the sight of God to follow : Mat. v. 8, ' The
pure in heart shall see God.' The more the heart ia purified, the more the
mind is cleared to have an insight into the things of God ; whereas a defiled
heart aenda out streams to mud the understanding, aa a foul stomach raiseth
vapours to diaturb the head. Purity preparea the soul for a more free and
constant residence of the Spirit, the great instructor. He is a dove, and
doves care not for foul and polluted places. Aa the foul spirit loves a pol
luted lodging, so doth the Holy Spirit a pure aoul. He that fears God ia the
subject of God's teaching, Ps. xxv. 12, but to leave off to do good is to leave
off to be wise, Ps. xxxvi. 3. ' Moses hid his face, and was afraid to look
upon God,' Exod. iii. 6, which the Jews understand of a fear of reverence,
and for that cause (they say) he was rewarded with a sight of the simUitude
of God, Num. xii. 8, 9 ; and indeed ' the fear of the Lord is the beginning
of wisdom,' i. e. the first foundation divine wisdom lays in building her house
in any soul. God required a three days' purification of the Israelites before
he would dispense the law and admit them to a knowledge of his will, and
is not a purity requisite to a knowledge of his nature ? To think to see God,
without purity in the soul, is as if we should imagine we could behold visible
objects without a crystaUine hulnour in the ball of the eye. ' He that doth
God's will shall know the doctrine of Christ,' John vii. 17. As in practical
arts the akill is increased more by working than studying, so is the know
ledge of God increased by the practice of what we know.* God delights to
be obeyed ; and where he is obeyed, he delights to give greater discoveries of
himself, both to encourage and direct to a further obedience. Aa Christ by
his obedience had the communications of God to him, so shall we by our
obedience have the communications of Christ to us, which he calls an ' abiding
in his love,' John xv. 10. A purified soul is more capable of divine beams
than a sharp wit. Plato could say that, after a walking with God, or a rb
evt,ain, a living with him, a certain light breaks out upon us as from fire,
and falls upon our souls.
6. Humility. If grace be given to the humble, the grace of the best
knowledge is not excluded from God's liberality ; we gain it sooner by an
humble contemplation than proud wranglings. As to obey God we must
deny our wiUs, so to know him we must deny our reasons ; will must submit
to precept, and reason to revelation. Agur acknowledged himself brutish,
who came behind none of his age, unless Solomon, in understanding, Prov.
xxx. 2. The humble person will quickly be a scholar in thia learning, when
a pharisee shall remain as ignorant as he is proud. God reveals himself to
babes, Mat. xi. 24, not to those that conceit themselves giants. Those that
* T»gflfl-ij Tuv IvTsXait yvuffti rov ^tou. — Easil.

108 ' chabnock's woeks. [John XVII. 3.
hear Christ's voice must have the quality of sheep, John x. 4. The meek
God acquaints with his choicest truths: Ps. xxv. 9, 'The meek wiU he teach
hia way.' As God ' knows the proud afar off,' Ps. cxxxviii. 6, ao doth the
proud man know God afar off. It is not possible, when God beholds him
at a great distance, that he can behold God. A proud scholar and a dove
like teacher can never accord. God ' humbles himself,' Ps. cxiu. 6 ; we
must be like him if we would understand him. Chriat was meek and lowly ;
he ia never hke to be a learner who imitatea not his master's pattern.- Espe
cially when in this humiliation of Christ the attributes of God shone out
brighter than in creation or general providence. What God required in his
son as a medium for the discovery of himself, he wUl require in us to make
ua capable of a communication of that knowledge. We are never fit to hear
God tiU we hear with submission. Humihty brings us into such a posture,
it takes away the blocks which lie in the way of saving truth ; it drives away
inconsideration, silenceth contradictions against the truth, and stifles curio
sity. If we will not, therefore, alight God's direction, we must ' be fools
that we may be wise,' 1 Cor. iii. 18. Our dulness doth grieve Christ, but
not so much as our conceitedneaa. Christ spake in parables to the arrogant
pharisees, but he repeated his instructions to his humble disciples, though he
reproved them for their dulness. The pride and curiosity of this age sets men
back in the knowledge of God, but it is likely a sharp lance is not far off to
cut the swelhng.
7. Heavenly meditation. An heavenly mind hath brighter and more de
lightful apprehensions of God than all the carnal world. The purer the air
we live in, the more active and strong is the body ; the air of heaven quickens
the understanding and clears the aight. By meditation we enter within the
veil and behold hia glory. He meets those that humbly aspire to him ; fre
quent ascents of the mind to God is the way to attain the manifestations
of him, Exod. xix. 3. When Moses went up to God (which the Jews*
understand of an intellectual ascent, an ascent of meditation), the Lord caUed
to him out of the mount ; that they understand of his corporeal ascent.
Abstraction is necessary to this best of sciences. If we are thus out of the
body, we may with Paul hear and know things which are unutterable. The
senses of the soul, which are aa real and have as real operations about their
proper objects, aa the external senses of aight and taste have about sensible
objecta, are thus to be exercised ; and when they are so, it makes us capable
of stronger meat and more spiritual knowledge, Heb. v. 14. Without this
we cannot come to a knowledge of God. Who can know the sun if he shuts
his eyes, or understand music if he stop his ears ? and know God if he never
stirs up hia underatanding about him ? We use the faculties and senses
which are proper for the objects proposed.f If music be presented, we em
ploy our ears ; if the sun shine, we use our eyea, not our eara ; if we would
know God, we muat employ our minda, they can only be conversant about
him. By this ascent of meditation we may see more of God in a moment
than otherwiae we can do in an age, aa a man may see more of London upon
the top of the Exchange in half a quarter of an hour than he can by going
about in many days, or standing in one street many years. But let our affec
tions keep an equal pace with our meditations, that the heart may be in
flamed with a di-vine love. Endeavour to have a savour of Christ's ointments.
Cant. i. 3 ; we shall then profit more in the knowledge of God in a week,
than, without blowing up our affections, we shall do in many years ; for then
God will communicate himself to us with a more cordial affection than we
can embrace him.
* Maimon, Wore, part i. cap. xi, f Maximus Tyrius, dis i. p. 11.

John XVIL 3.] the knowledge of god. 109
8. Communication of what knowledge of God we have upon occasion.
Talents improved increase, Luke xix. 17 ; increase in the act and increase by
a reward. Let not what knowledge you have lie bound up in a rotten napkin
as a useless thing, but venture it, and you will find a quick return. What
knowledge of God we have laid out is lent to God, as well as what we give
out of our purses to the poor, and God is no insolvent or careless debtor
to his own promise : he hath bound himself to pay the leas, and so he
will the greater. We gain by imparting, as the husbandman flings his
grain into the ground with hopes of an increasing crop.
9. Affect Chriatian society. Every Christian is a king and priest to
God, and why not also a prophet to his brother ? If a man will con
verse with divine persons, light will break in upon him as flame from a
sparkling fire. He that would gain knowledge would converse with the
best company. The daughters of Jerusalem were asked by the spouse for
her beloved, when she was upon the pursuit to find him, Cant. v. 8. The
meanest Christian may be of use in this. The lower plants have more of
medicine in them than many taller shrubs ; nay, Apollos has learned more
of Chriat from PrisciUa than from the aposties themselves. God often
blesseth the weaker above the stronger means, to shew that he is not tied
to any.
Let me conclude all with the speech of a heathen, 0 quam contempta
res est homo, nisi supra humana se erexerit !* If we would have life eternal,
the way, by our Saviour's prescription, is to ' know the only true God, and
Jesus Christ, whom he hath sent.'
* Seneca, Prsefat, ad Natural. Quest.

A DISCOURSE OF THE KNOWLEDGE OF GOD
m CHRIST.

And this is life eternal, that they might know thee the only true God, and Jesus
Christ, whom thou hast sent. — John XVII. 3.
Theee were two principal doctrines pitched on at the beginning of this
discourse. Doctrine I. The knowledge of God and Christ the Mediator ia the neces
sary means to eternal life and happiness.
Doctrine II. The true and saving knowledge of God is only in and by
Christ. God and Jesus Christ. fSome make an hendiadis here, for ' God iri
Christ.' As 2 Peter i. 2, ' Through the knowledge of God and Jesus Christ,'
i. e. through the knowledge of God in Christ ; and, ver. 3, ' hath given ua
all things pertaining to life and godliness,' i. e. to a godly life ; and, ver. 4,
who hath ' called us to glory and virtue,' or bla, ' through glory and virtue,'
i. e. through a glorious power. So Pa. xcvi. 7, ' Give unto the Lord glory
and strength,' i. e. the glory of his strength. Gen. iii. 16, ' I will multiply
thy sorrow and thy conception,' i. e. thy sorrow in thy conception, or of thy
conception. To know God in Christ his ambassador. To know God the
Father in Christ the mediator, the Father being considered here as God, and
Christ as mediator. To know God as Chriat hath declared him, as he
speaks, ver. 6, ' I have manifested thy name.'
Since the lapse of human nature, no man that understands his fallen con
dition can have any knowledge of God from the book of the creatures and'
the dictates of nature but what is terrible without a mediator ; and all
notions of God out of Christ are below him, many times unworthy of him,
and foul and undecent in themselves. Christ asserts it, Mat. xi. 27, ' All
things are delivered to me of my Father, and no man knows the Son but the
Father, neither knows any man the Father save the Son, and he to whomso
ever the Son will reveal him.' AU things were first dehvered to Adam in
the creation, viz. the knowledge of God and rectitude of nature, to be by
him transmitted to his posterity. But since Adam so foolishly and wickedly
threw it away for a little pleasure, he rendered himself and hia posterity un
capable to know and enjoy God.* God therefore pitchea upon Christ in
=f Chemnit. Harm, ex Athanasio.

John Xvii. a.j the knowledge of god in chbist. Ill
his secret counsel, and stored up in him all the treasures of wisdom and
knowledge, to shoot his beams through him upon man, and convey by him
those good things whioh Adam had made himself by his fall uncapable to
communicate to his posterity. When our Saviour aaith universally, all
things are delivered to him, he instanceth in none but the knowledge of God'
as the foundation of all those rich communications which men receive from
him, for without the revelation of God the Father to man, man would bei
uncapable to partake of thoae riches intended for him by the mediation and!
interpoaition and furniture of the Son of God ; and therefore, John iii. 35,
when it is said, ' The Father hath given all things into his hand,' it follows,
' He that helieveth on the Son hath eternal life.' The end why all things
are given into his hand, is to convey to man such a knowledge of God that
men might be induced to believe in Chriat, and in (jpd through Christ.
Between the Father and the Son there is a communion of knowledge. None
knows the Son but the Father, none knows the Father but the Son ; none
makes known the Son, and what things he hath delivered into his hand, but;
the Father by the Spirit ; and none knows the Father, and his mind and
affections to man, and the relationa his nature and perfections bear to him,
but the Son, and he to whom the Son will reveal him by the outward
preaching of the word, and the inward illumination of his Spirit. And upon
this Christ makea a general invitation, ' Come unto me, all ye that labour
and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest ; ' that labour under, and are
heavy laden with, your ignorance and darkness in the thinga of God, as well
as with other miseries, and I will give you such a revelation and knowledge
of the Father wherein you shall find a rest and complacency. Another
place is John xiv. 9, ' He that hath seen me hath seen the Father,'
where Philip, in his desiring of Christ to shew him the Father, takes it
for granted that the knowledge of the Father was only to be expected by and
from Christ. Though he discovers his infirmities in his petition, implying
that the Father was to be seen with corporeal eyes, ' Shew us the Father
and it sufficeth us,' Christ answers with a reproof for his ignorance and in
advertency, ' He that hath seen me hath seen the Father.' The Son hath
rendered the Father spiritually visible in his person ; hia excellency, majesty,
and unexpressible kindnelk to man, ahine forth in Christ as a lively and
clear image, and there is so exact a resemblance and so near a conjunction
that, as he speaks, ver. 7, ' If we know Christ we know the Father also,'
because Christ hath revealed him by his doctrine and word, and the holi
ness, righteousness,'tenderness of God are made visible in the transaction of
Christ, and God ia repreaented in the peraon and doctrine of Chriat more
clearly than in all the apparitions and evidences of himself to the patriarchs
and prophets.
One place more ; 2 Cor. iv. 4, 6, Christ is said to be the ' image of God,'
and that God ' had shined in our hearta to give the light of the knowledge of
the glory of God in the face of Jesua Christ.' Where the apostle expresseth
two things : 1, that Christ is the image of God ; 2, that the knowledge ofthe
glory of God, or the glorious God, ia diacovered in the face or peraon of
Christ. He is the image of God ; he is indeed the essential image of God,
the natural image of God, possessing in one essence with the Father all the
glories and perfections of the Deity. A substantial and permanent image,
not vanishing aa that in a glass ; a natural image, as the image of a father
in his son, who hath the lineaments of the father by participation from him,
not as the image of a prince in his coin, which is artificial. Substantial
image of God, not in regard of likeness, for every thing that is like another
is not said to be the image of that thing which it is like, 'but that which

112 chabnock's woeks. [John XVII. 3.
bears a figure impressed by another, and expresseth that whose figure it is,
as one man may be like another, yet is not said to be the image of another,
as a son is said to be the image of his father. Not such an image as man
is, who is rather said to be created according to the image of God than to be
the image of God ; 'such an image aa in creation was like to God, not one
with God. Christ is such an image of God, as if shining upon the soul in
the gospel, can turn the heart, which man, though the image of God, cannot
perform. Christ is therefore the image of God, as a child is the image of
his father, not in regard of the individual property which the father hath
distinct from the child, and the child from the father, but in respect of the
same substance and nature, derived from the father by generation. Christ
is here called the image of God, not so much, saith Calvin, in relation to
God, as the Father is the exemplar of hia beauty and excellency, as in rela
tion to us, as he represents the Father to us in the perfections of hia nature,
as they respect us and our welfare, and renders him visible to the eyes of onr
minds. And the Jews did often give this title to the Messiah.* So that in
the aight of Chriat we aee God, as in the sight of the stamp upon wax we
aee what is engraven upon the seal, which answers to it in exact proportion.
Christ God-man is the image of God, because the humanity is taken into
personal union with the Son of God. His humanity abstractedly considered
was no more the image of God than Adam was by creation. f And he is so
the image of God, that whosoever hath seen him and known him, hath seen
and known the Father also, which cannot be said of a picture, for he that
sees a picture cannot be said to see the object represented by the picture,
which expresseth only the outward figure, form, and hneaments. But he is
such an image as represents the nature, features, attributes, and inward vir
tues of God. A picture is but a shadow, but Christ is a substantial image
of God, wherein the divinity dwells bodily. Col. ii. 9.
There is also a discovery of God in the face of Christ. Since the divine
nature falls not under the perceptions of sense, nor can be immediately
knovm in itself by the understandings of men ; it shines forth and sparkles |
in the face of Christ, and diffuseth itself about the world. By knowing
Christ, who ia man, we know God ;§ because the human nature of Christ is
personally assumed by the Son of God. As he that sees the body of a man,
sees the man consisting of soul and body, because the soul and body are
united together and make one composition, though the soul in itself be
invisible ; so he that seea the human nature of Christ is rightly said to see
God, because the human and divine nature are personaUy united in Christ,
though the divinity itself be invisible ; and indeed, we cannot conceive any
other sight and knowledge of God in heaven, but in Christ. The vision of
Christ in his glorified human nature, is a seeing of God face to face ; so
that whosoever sees Christ with his bodily eyea, or with the eyes ofhis mind,
sees God ; he sees and knows God, not immediately and directly, but
mediately and consequently. Aa the propheta were said to see the Lord :
1 Kings xxii. 19, Micaiah ' saw the Lord sitting upon hia throne ; and Isa.
vi. 1, ' I saw the Lord upon his throne.' They saw not God immediately,
but in those forms wherein he was pleased to appear as the symbols of his
presence : and as John Baptist saw the Spirit of God, Mat. iii. 16, in the
form of a dove ; not the person of the Holy Ghost, but in the form wherein
he appeared, yet ia said to see the Spirit of God ; the Father and the
Son, having one nature and essence, when the Son is known the Father is
known. * X'?N D'?X,— Grotius in loc. t Bayns on Col. i. 15, pp. 75, 76.
J 'Aar^dTki ifii);. — Theod. § Gerhard, Harm, in John xiv, 9, p, 909., Col. i.

John XVII. 3.] the knowledge of god in chbist. 113
1. AU the knowledge that any man hath of God, is from and by Christ.
Every man that hath any saving light, hath it derivatively from him ; he is
' the^ light that enlightens every man that comes into the world,' John i. 9.
Every man that is enhghtened, is enlightened by him. No other light can
expel that darkneas which is upon our minds in relation to God, but this
light. What knowledge any man hath of God by reason and natural light,
is by the mediation of Christ, whereby are kept up in men whatsoever gifts
they had by their fall forfeited ; and whatsoever saving knowledge any man
hath of God, is by the special illumination of this true light by the virtue of
his Spirit. Neither our natural reason is the true light, because it is blind
in spiritual things ; nor the word is the true light, because it cannot make
men savingly inteUigent without the shining of this trae light upon them.
And this the church expected by the Messiah : Hosea vi. 3, ' Then shall we
know the Lord, at his going forth prepared as the morning ;' when he ' shall
come as the rain, as the former and the latter rain ;'* when he shall instil
into us the divine doctrine, and open our hearts as the rain doth the womb
of the earth. We shall then know, when he shall come to teach men the
ways of life, as a Jew expounds it.
2. No man hath, can have, or ever had, any knowledge of God without
Christ : John i. 18, ' No man hath seen God at any time; the only begotten
Son, which is in the bosom of the Father, he hath declared him.' Which is
asserted by John Baptist against the Jews, who boasted much of Moaes hia
sight of God, and knowledge of his secrets. No man hath seen God from
the first creation of the world to this day, not a man of all the patriarchs
and prophets ever knew God but by the revelations of Christ. By seeing,
we must not understand a corporeal sight, for no man ever did or can see
God with his bodily eyes, but an inteUectual or spiritual vision, which the
antithesis, ' But he hath revealed him,' manifests. Christ is only capable
to declare to us the nature and counsels of God, because he is his only Son,
had an intimate communion with him ; was, and is continually in his bosom,
wherein the secrets of God were laid up, and waa before the world intereated
in his secret counsels, and knew the bottom of all. He hath expounded his
will, unfolded his nature, 'E^tiyfiaotTo. None else can reveal him, nor can
the revelations of any inferior to him in this privilege challenge a full credit
with any man. Moses himself saw God only in Christ ; he waa put in a
hole of the rock, Exod. xxxiii. 22, which, in the judgment of the ancients,
and some moderns, was a figure of Christ. None can see and know God
but in this rock Jesus ; the name which God then proclaimed is only
declared by Christ : John xvii. 6, ' I have manifested thy name unto the
men which thou gavest me.' And that which we call the light of nature,
and the light of the law, is gathered up and centred in Christ ; as that light
which was in the world before the fourth day of the creation was gathered
and embodied in the sun, and from thence flowed to the world. All the light
waa created to be brought into that body, and to flow from thence upon the
several parts of the world, and to be communicated from thence to other
creatures ; so that there ia no clear light in the world but from and by the
sun, and no clear hght of the knowledge of God but from and by Christ.
Some therefore make the sun a natural type of Christ. As the sun was
created the fourth day of the creation, so Christ was incarnate about the
four thousandth year of the world, the fourth divine day, a thousand years
being as a day in God's sight. All hght waa only to flow fi:om it ; and indeed
all the light of the knowledge of God that ever waa did spring from Christ.
* Where the word which signifies the' latter rain, mi*, signifies also a teacher.
VOL. IV. H

114 chabnock's wobks. [John XVH. 3.
None ever knew God by his own strength and natural abUities, but as they. I
were kept up and animated by the mediator.'
And, by the way, we may observe, that the knowledge of God is more
than the knowledge of the wUl of God. ' He hath declared him.' Christ
declared more than the will of God, as it was a rule of obedience ; he de
clared God's perfections as a ground of the creature's confidence, as an
incitement to admiration, and a motive to obedience. He declared not only
the will of God, what we are to do ; but the intention of God, what we are
to hope for ; the glory of God, what we are to adore and admire.
In the prosecution of this, we shall shew,
I. What kind of mediums there have been to know God, and how they
come short of this.
II. That the saving knowledge of God is attained only by the knowledge
of Christ.
III. The necessity of this medium.
IV. What knowledge of God is discovered to us by Christ.
V. The Use.
I. What kind of mediums there have been to know God, and how they
come short of this way of knowledge.
1. There is a natural knowledge of God.
(1.) By implanted notion. Some question whether there be any natural
knowledge of God imprinted upon man, or the knowledge of any one thing
naturally planted in him ; but as he growa up (aay they) he acquires a know
ledge of things from the objects of sense, and improvement of them by the
understanding he is endowed with; and making deductions and conclusions
by the help of reason, arrives to an apprehension of things. Yet this know
ledge of God may be called natural, because, by the view of the visible things
in the world, natural reason frames a certain conclusion that there is a God,
the cause of those excellences he sees in the creatures. But the Scripture
seems to intimate a notion of God in the minds of men : Rom. i. 19, ' That
which may be known of God is manifest in them, for God hath shewn it unto
them ;' a notion within, an excitation of it by objects vrithout, that there
is an internal hght which doth manifest him, as well as an external evidence
of him by the creatures. But whether thia be the import of this scripture
or no, most understand no more by manifest in them, than manifest to them;
yet, since there is a law of nature in men, which is the rule of the excusings
or accusings of the conscience, in regard of which they are aaid to be ' a law
to themaelves,' Rom. ii. 15, ' and the work of the law,' said to be ' written
in their hearts,' the notion of a superior power .to which man ia account
able for his actions must be as natural as that, becauae it is the foundation
of the actings of conscience ; and the superstructure being from an implanted
light, is not like to be .without a foundation of the aame kind. To what pur
pose ahould conacience accuae, if there were not a supreme being nnder
whose censure such actions did fall ? and since the heathens had a natural
sentiment, that the extravagances they were guUty of were worthy of death,
Rom. i. 32, they must also have as natural a sentiment that there was a
judge of absolute power to inflict that death upon them, which their own
conaciences told them they were worthy of. Since there are, therefore,
natural agitations of conscience raised up by the law of nature within them,
the notion of a God seems to me to be as natural as that law of nature, and
those motions of conscience. And though this waa more clear in man at
hia creation, and while he remained in the state of innocency, yet it is not
blotted out of the mind of man. Though the notions of God in men are

John XVII. 3.J the knowledge of god in cheist. 115
dimmed by the fumes of their corruption, yet they cannot stifle this inward
ight and impression, any more than the thickest jfogs can blot out the sun,
or hinder it from making day. And all the outward objects which we see in
the world, whence we argue that there ia a God, seem only to revive and
awaken that implanted notion which lay covered with the rubbish of the faU.
For, upon the first view of things, with what ease doth thia sentiment rise up
in our minda ? And nothing is more obvioua, nothing more eaaily enter
tained, than thia, that there ia a God, and that this God is a mighty, powerful,
and perfect being ; which evidenceth that there is a spark of it in the mind
of man, which catches the outward flame so quickly upon ita approach, as
the snuff of a candle, not quite extinguished, will snatch and attract the flame
of another which comes near unto it.
(2.) By the creatures. The visible world, and every part of it, is a book,
wherein we may read some syllables of God.* The heathens saw God in
heaven, earth, fire, water, plants, and animals ; all creatures being lines
drawn from that centre. Though man hath not the knowledge which Adam
had, since the flaw he contracted upon his understanding, yet there being
some scattered relics of thia knowledge, he may, by looking near to the crea
turea, discern, by his purblind and dim aight, something of the attributes of
God, every creature being a glass which reflects some beama of God upon
hia mind ; for no man in his wits can conclude that the world was made by
chance, but by some being more wise than any being in the world can be, or
than all the wisest men in the world put together. We know the courage,
conduct, and power of a general by the sight of his conquests, the skilful-
ness of an artificer by the excellency of his work, and the eloquence of an
orator by reading his speech, though we never aaw the faces of any of them.
There are very few attributes but the works of creation and providence dis
cover in some measure to us ; for ' the invisible things of God from the
creation of the world are clearly seen, being understood by the things that
are made, even his eternal power and Godhead,' Rom. i. 20. These two
perfections are clearly seen : his infinite power, which discovers also his
eternity ; and his incomprehensible goodness, which is the most signal glory
of the divinity, f The beauty of the world acquaints us with the exceUency
of him that erected it, and the order of the world instructs us in the wisdom
of him that composed it. This discovery hath been ever since the creation ;
' from the creation of the world ;' from the time the world and the things
therein were first created. He imprinted some letters of himself upon this
frame of things, at the first rearing of it, wherein they have been ever since
legible ; you may see by the letter whose print it was, and what skill he had
who made the impression. Thus God brings the creatures successively upon
the stage to Job, and reads a natural history of them ; he sends him to con
sider the foundations of the earth, the bridled vastness of the sea, &c., Job
xxxviii.-xl. [1.] The power of God is evident : in bringing forth a fair world out of
nothing, which manifests an infinite strength ; in packing together all parts
for conveniency of life and motion, in so little a creature as' a fly and ant;
in atretchingoutthe heavens like a curtain, laying the beams of his chambers
in the watera ; in setting bounds to the mighty waters, that they turn not
again to cover the earth.
[2.] The wisdom of God : in the order, variety, and beauty ; in the great
resemblances of reason in aome little creatures, as the ants and bees, which
could hardly be supposed to have bodies capable of spirits, for managing
* Jupiter est quodcunque vides, quodcunque movetur. — Lucan.
t Amyraut. Paraph.

116 ohaenock's woeks. [John XVH. 3.
those tasks they naturally undertake ; in the ordering everything to a par-
ticulair and general end ; the subserviency of one creature to another ; the
constant order they observe in their motions, as if they were sensible of a
law, and were rational observers of it. The moon is appointed for seasons,
and the sun knows his going down ; the observation of which drew from the
psalmist that admiration, ' 0 Lord, how manifold are thy works ! in wisdom
hast thou made them all,' Ps. civ. 24 — a lecture ofthe creation.
[3.] The goodness oi God. ' The earth is full of his, riches,' Ps. civ. 24,
full of the goodness of the Lord : in communicating to every creature
various endowmenta for their usefulness to one another, and furnishing them
with abilitiea to attain their ends (every providence is a witness of this attri
bute, Acta xiv. 17) ; m the plentiful proviaion he hath made for his crea
tures ; in causing ' the grass to grow for the cattle, and herbs for the serrice
of man, that he may bring forth food out of the earth.' Whoaoever was the
cause of the creation, muat have understanding, will, and power : under
standing to contrive, wUl to resolve, and power to perform. Wisdom ia the
product ofthe understanding, goodness communicates the fruit of the wiU,
power executes and brings the contrivance and resolve into act.
[4.] The immutability of God may be known by the creatures. Since
every creature, the more subject to change, the more it partakes of imper
fection, God, the cause of all, must be immutable, otherwise he would want
that perfection which is in the sun and heavenly bodies, wherein no change
hath been observed.
[5.] His eternity, which is inseparable from infinite power. He must be
before what was made by him in time.
[6.] His omniscience. He must know everything exactly which he hath
made, and nothing in his creatures can be hid from him ; as a workman
knows every part and motion of his work.
[7.] His sovereignty. In the obedience his creatures pay to him, in
observing their several orders, and moving in the spheres wherein he set
them. [8.] The spirituality of God. Because he is not visible ; and the more
spiritual any creature in the world is, the more pure it is. • Besides, if God
were a body, he would be compounded of various parta, and the parts
would be in order of nature before the whole, and God woulc' depend upon
those parts.
[9.] The sufficiency of God for himself. Since all creatures had a begin
ning, God had no need of creating them ; for being from eternity before the
world, he had no more need of it in time than he had before time.
[10.] Hia majesty. In the glory and lustre of the heavens, which are
his throne, Isa. Ix. 1, and a clear looking-glass to represent in their essence,
magnitude, and motion, not only the being but the glory of God, more ma
jestically than any earthly creature.
From all which may be concluded, the manner how God ought to be wor
shipped : as a mighty being, clothed with aU those perfections as with a
garment ; so that he cannot be represented by the image of any one crea
ture. For since he hath made all, he cannot be limited by the perfections
of any one, because he is the boundless fountain of the perfections of all.
Nature, therefore, can never teach men to worship God in images, unless
they were able to frame one in which they could gather and store up the
perfections of all creatures ; and that is as impossible for any or all
creatures to perform as to make a God. All thia is as inteUigible to a
rational creature by nature, as the shining of the sun is visible ; the one is
as evident in the works of creation to our reason as the other is to oar

John XVII. 3.] the knowledge of god in chbist. 117
sense. AU this may be known of God by the creation, and it ia a true
(though not a full) discovery of God. It is eaUed truth : Rom. i. 18, 25,
' Change the trath of God into a lie.' We may as traly conclude all thia
of God, by the prospect of the creation, as a man might conclude the wis
dom, power, and magnificence of the Romans, by the sight of their pyramids,
theatres, statues, buUdings, and other conveniencies in the city for the
people ;* for it is a rational way of 'arguing, from the excellency of the effect
to the excellency of the cause, and fi:om the perfection of the creature to the
perfection of God. No man can behold the visible world, and take a view
of the excellency of any creature, but must conclude an higher excellency in
God ; because it is impossible for that which is a solitary cause to give that
to another which it doth not possess in' itaelf, in a formal way, or a way of
eminency ; yet, becauae there is an imperfection in every creature, we must
sift the flour of the creature from this bran, when we would frame any con
ception of the excellency of God by it. As we know the nature of the sea
by a drop of water from it, yet we imagine the sea a great mass of those
drops inconceivably vaster than a drop ; so when we conceive of God ac
cording to any perfection in the creature, we add a purity, spirituality, and
infiniteness to that perfection which we conceive.
(3.) By the nature of our souls. Had God made only man, and one
small place for him to be in, without those ornaments of the world, he
might have arrived to more knowledge of God by his own bemg, and make,
and glossing upon his own nature, than by anything in the world. The soul
being a apirit, and the noblest of all beings upon the earth, approaching
nearest the nature of God, the contemplation of that renders God more in
teUigible to us than all material things, whose nature is more unlike to the
nature of God. As the sun is more visible through a thin cloud than a thicker
fog and veil which obscures it, there is more of God to be found in the little
central point of the soul than in the large circumference of the world ;t and
a clearer impression of some great and inconceivable being is upon onr souls
than upon any creature under heaven ; and whosoever will retire within
himself, cannot but perceive some characters of a supreme being in his own
nature. The soul was hghted by God, and created according to the image of
God, and is the exactest image of God under heaten.J By considering the
nature of our own souls, we may come to some knowledge of the original
and copy, as we have clearer apprehensions of the sun by the image of it
imprinted upon a glass, or other transparent body, than we can have by any
other creature, though the image of the sun be much less glorious than the
sun itself, whose image it is. The mind of man can pierce every thing ; it
can conceive of angels, descend into the bottom of the deep, ascend to the
battlements of heaven ; it is not confounded by the mists of the air, or
checked by the distance of the heavens. Command your mind to pass from
one end of the World to the other, it vriU perform the order as soon as it is
given. What ia quicker than thought, which can skip from earth to heaven,
from heaven to earth in a moment ! Can there be a greater shadow of the
omnipresence and immensity of God ? The soul hath a memory to register
actions and things done many years ago. It can bring out things new and
old : what higher resemblance of the omniscience of God ? It is not com
posed of the factious principles of elements. It hath not the dregs of matter
mixed with it ; in thia it represents the spirituality of God. It is indefa
tigable in its motions ; it is never tired in governing the body, — our bodies,
* Ochino Predict, par. ii. predic. ii. p. 5.
t The soul was therefore called hy some philosophers Deas in homihe.
I Ti UyxX/ia Qlou, a Statue of Ood,

118 chabnock's wobks. [John XVH. 3.
that are coarse pieces of earth, flag and languish when the soul remains
vigorous ; and thia represents the indefatigableness of God's providence. It
can subsist without the body ; it doth not in all its motions depend upon it;
it can reflect upon itself without it, view and please itself in ita own perfec
tiona abstracted from the body, which shadows to ua the aelf-aufficiency of
God. Thus, as a landscape or draught of a great house or kingdom repre
sents all the parts of that land or house, yet in a far less proportion than the
house or territory is in itself; and when we see those models, we do not
conceive the things represented to be of no bigger size than the pictures of
them, but of a far greater proportion ; ao we may contemplate God in the
model of our own souls, and since we know that we have understanding and
will, we conclude that God hath understanding and will in a more trans
cendent manner, still enlarging to infiniteness in him what we observe of
ouraelves, when we transfer it to God. Yet though we may have so much
knowledge of God by the creaturea and by our souls, how little do we con
template God ! How far do we come short of thia natural knowledge, and
the improvement of it ! How much ahorter of the knowledge of God in
Chriat, which ia infinitely more excellent and glorious ! All the knowledge
drawn from the creatures is insufficient to represent God. The knowledge
of God by nature and creatures is necessary, aa a foundation for higher ap
prehenaiona, and for turning to God. Men without it would be wholly
brutiah, and incapable of instructions in Christianity as an ox or a sheep ;
and though men deserved by sin to be deprived of this natural knowledge,
yet God kept it up as a atock on which in time to engraft other principles in
the discovery of Christ. All nature ia incapable of discovering God in a fuU
manner as he may be known. Nature, like Zaccheus, is of too low a sta
ture to see God in the length and breadth, height and depth, of his perfec
tions.. The key of man's reason answers not to all the wards in the lock of
those mysteriea. The world at best ia but a ahadow of God, and therefora
cannot discover him in his magnificent and royal virtues, no more than a
shadow can discover the outward beauty, the exceUent mien, and the inward
endowments of the person whose shadow it is. All that a shadow' wUl in
form me of, is whether it be the ahadow of a man or brate. It diacovers
something of God, not so much of him as to give the soul a fuU compla
cency ; the fruit of it is but a thirat without a aatisfaction.
[1.] Innocent nature could never have been, in that state, acquainted
with tlie perfections of God, in such a manner as they are discovered in
Christ. (1.) Some perfections of God'a nature could not have been known. Where
had there been any place for the diacovery of patience without a provocation, or
for punitive juatice without a tracusgression, or for pardoning mercy without
an offence ? There had been no occasion for the exercise of any of them,
and therefore we cannot conceive how there could be a manifestation of
them without objects convenient for them to be conversant about. Inno
cent man was the object of God'a goodness, offending man only of his
patience. Innocence is the subject of love, injury of anger. AU thoae glo
rious eminences of God'a nature had lain under a thick veil, impossible to
be discerned by the eye of man. But those attributes were brought upon
the stage by the entrance of sin, which was permitted to enter for the mani
festation of them in and through Christ : Rom. v. ver. 15 20 ' The law
entered, that the offence might abound,' to make way for ' the abundance of
grace.' Some attributes of God could not have been discovered by any pro
ceeding of his, at least in such an height and eminency, but in Christ, as the
wonders of his grace, the loud sounding of his bowels and compassions,

John XVII. 3.] the knowledge of god in chbist. 119
the purity of his holiness, and the dreadfulneas of his justice. His creating
perfections might have been aeen by Adam and hia posterity, his redeeming
perfections are only displayed in hia Son. The world aa creafed waa not
capable of giving occasion for the manifestation of thoae attributes, but the
world as fallen. The not being of the world gave occasion to God to manifest
his glory as a creator, but the lapsed state of the world gave occasion to God
to manifest his glory as a redeemer ; for how could there be mercy shewn, if
man's misery did not need it ? How could there be vindictive juatice, if man's
transgression did not deserve it ? How could there be a promiae of resto
ration by the seed of the woman, if man's degeneracy did not want it ?
God had not been known in one letter of his name, as it is set down, Exod.
xxxiv. 6, 7, but in the Redeemer. Not one tittle of his name there de
scribed had been known to the sons of men, had they continued in innocency,
nor after the fall, but in and by Christ the mediator. It is in him he dis
covers himself a God ' merciful, gracious, long-suffering, and abundant in
goodness, forgiving iniquity, and by no meana clearing the guilty,' but exact
ing satiafaction to hia offended juatice for sin. As though God was infinitely
happy in himself, yet this happiness could not have been discovered to any
but himself, unless he had made creaturea wherein to display his goodness,
and no being could have known him but himself, if there had been no being
besides himself; so without Christ, God had not been known in his redeem
ing perfectiona, because there had been no basis for the discovery of them,
they had lain wrapped up in darkness from the creature ; and as they were
a mystery hid from ages tUl the diacovery of Christ, so they had without him
remained hid for ever from the notice of the world. And as those attributes
had not been discovered, ao the creature's duty in relation to them could not
have been exercised. God had wanted the manifestative glory of hia par
doning grace, and man had had no occaaion to return a thankfulneas to God
for it. He could not have humbled himself nnder God's displeasure, had
there not been an occasion to manifest his anger ; nor could the infinite suf
ficiency of God for his creature have been known, nor prayers directed to
him by his creaturea for relief. Nature could discover no more than what
was imprinted on it by the God of nature ; the world stood in no need of
redemption by virtue of its creation, but by virtue of its transgression and
pollution. (2.) Some perfections of God's nature could not have been so clearly and
fully known. The creation was but the first draught of God'a perfections,
and came much short of the full declaration ; as the firat limning of a picture
doth of expressing the features and beauty of the original, till the second and
third draught, when the last hand is put, and all the hues completed.
Though there were manifestations of God's power, wisdom, and goodness in
the creation, yet not in such splendour as the occasion of bringing forth
Christ into the world did administer for the illustrating of them. These at
tributes looked upon the world through a veil and lattice, but were not seen
in their full lustre till the coming of Christ drew the veU, and set them forth
in their richest beauty. Here was infinite power in ita atrength going forth
like a giant to run its race, God'a power over himaelf manifeated, wisdom in
a knot of royal designs, and goodness opening its richest treasures. The
holiness of God could not have been clearly known : while man did not know
what sin was, he could never have strong conceptions of the mighty hatred
of God against it. Man had some understanding of it by God's threatening,
but he could not have such clear notices of it by his commination, as upon
the entrance of sin by the execution, and that upon our Saviour. Nor had
the veracity of God been so evident. It would have been known but in the

120 chabnock's woeks. [John XVII. 8.
half, or on one side, in the making good his promise upon man's obedience,
but never would have been understood experimentally (which is the clearest
and most infaUible way of knowledge) in his threatening, unless sin had in
vaded the world, and so had given occaaion to the manifestation of God's
trath to his word of threatening, as man's persisting in an unerring and un
spotted obedience would have given only occaaion to manifest his truth to
his word of promise. These virtues of God were in the creation hke a lovely
diamond under a piece of hnen, which emits some sparklings, but is not,
discerned in ita full lustre till the covering be removed. Chriat drew the
veU from them, and manifested them in their fuUest glory. The angelical
nature had no prospect of these things we have spoken of, by their stand
ing before the face of God, but by the discovery of them to the church in
their great head, Eph. iii. 10. And it is hkely, from that and other
places, that though they had a notice of the redemption of man by the
first promise of the seed of the woman made to man, and by the glorifying
some of mankind, and the providences of God in the world, yet they
were ignorant of the great ways and methods of it, tiU they came upon
the stage in the discovery of the Son of God's taking miserable flesh to
die in it ; so incapable is the best created nature to discern the glory of
God without the face of Christ.
(3.) Innocent nature could never arrive to a full knowledge of God's
nature by the attributes discovered in creation, without some further revela
tion of him. The whole creation was the work of God's hands, but no work
can fully express the nature of the artificer. We may know by a watch, or
clock, or a curious piece of tapestry, that the workman was akilful in his
art, that a more exact piece never came out of any hand ; but by his curiosity
in his work, we cannot give a description of hia person and disposition,
without other acquaintance with him. We can know nothing of God by the
creatures, but as they stand in the relation to God as effects to their cause,
and when the cause doth much transcend the effect, the clearest understand
ing cannot, by the knowledge of the effect, arise to a full knowledge of the
cause. God is infinitely above the fruits of his power in the world ; there
fore, man in innocence could gain but little knowledge of him by a bare
prospect of them. Nature discovers that there is a God, but not fully what
that God is ; nor doth the creation furnish man with a notion of God suit
able to the excellency and immensity of his natm-e : as a blind man who
hears a discourse of the light and heat of the sun, being brought under the
beams of it striking hot upon his body, feels the warmth and knows there is
such a thing men call the sun, and is aenaible of some effects of it, but hath
not a full conception of the enlightening nature of the sun, nor knows what
the body of the sun is, nor what kind of shape it appears in ; and ifhe should
declare his conception of it, it would be strangely different from the true
nature of the sun, a monstrous mistaken description of it, not auitable to
that planet ; nay, what man is there that sees the sun every day, that is
able to say he fully knows the nature of it by his sight, or the constant in
fluences which he feels from it ? The conception of God is infinitely more
above innocent reason than the conception of the sun can be above lapsed
natural reason cracked by the fall. Since, therefore, all the creatures cannot
be a ground for man to frame a true and right conception of God, what
Adam had of this nature was more fi-om revelation than contemplation ofthe
works of God ; and, since Adam was of the species of man, what knowledge
he had of God above what the effect of his power in the world did discover,
he had by revelation from God, since no man hath at any time seen or known
God (taking in the beginning of time, as well as the succession of tune), but

John XVII. 8.] the knowledge op god in chbist. 121
whatever intellectual viaion any had of God, was by the declarations of the
Son of God, John i. 18.
[2.] ' Corrupted nature is leas able to know God by the creation, aa he
ought to be known, since the fall. Since no natural light waa strong enough
to discover the wonders of God, corrupt reason can attain but a faint know
ledge. The providence of God, after the entrance of sin, displayed some of
his attributes which could not be manifested in an innocent state, viz., his
forbearance and his justice. God did witness his patience and goodness to
men in giving them rain from heaven, and firuitful seasons, and ' filling their
hearts with food and gladness,' while he ' suffered them to walk in their own
ways,' Acts xiv. 16, 17. And many of the heathens were sensible of this
goodness in some measure, when they observed how much the wickedness of
the world deserved the contrary, though most of them, indeed, ' despised
the riches ' of it, Rom. ii. 3, 4. Now and then, some warning pieces of
judgments were shot off, whereby the world was startled and made sensible
of anger in God. He now and then shot his darts into the hearts of some,
otherwise they would scarce have taken notice that there was a God that
judgeth in the earth. But there was nothing in all their observation that
could discover anything of God in Christ, the union of two natures, the doc
trine of the trinity of persons, which was necessary to the notion of redemp
tion, because there was to be a person satisfying, and a peraon to whom the
satiafaction waa to be offered, and by whom it was to be received ; one coht
sidered as the rector, the other as the mediator. This transaction was a
' mystery hid in God from the beginning of the world,' Eph. iii. 9, and dis
covered to the Gentiles in the apostles' time. Col. i. 26, 27, ' Now made
manifeat to the saints ;' not before, not a syUable of it communicated to
nature ; it had then been no more a mystery than any other thing that nature
declares. There were, indeed, aome confused notions among some of the
prime philosophers of a trinity, and some prophecies among the Sybils ap
plicable to the Redeemer. The latter might have some glimmerings by
revelation, that thereby way might be made for the easier reception of the
gospel by the Gentiles," when ii should set foot in the world. The former,
i. e. the philosopher.* had also, from a converse with the Jews, into whose
country some of ths k. .lad travelled, or from the Jews which occasionally re
sided among them,oln(from the Phoenicians, which were the Philistines of
Canaan, a trading people, who, by the neighbourhood of the Jews, might
learn and discover some maxims of their religion ; and there were also some
of them acquainted with seme parts of Scripture : nature cannot challenge
anything in this affair. But the strength of their natural light was more
seen in a knovrfedge of the duty of man to man, than in the searching ont
God in the duties we owe to him ; whence there are many discourses extant
of justice, temperance, prudence, and moral virtues, very few of God and
hia nature. And though men had by tradition some notice of a redeemer
by the first promise, yet they were not able to conceive anything of the
nature of God thereby, but that he was patient and gracious ; but because
they could not conceive how this work should be effected, they could not dis
cern thoae other attributes of holiness, wisdom, mercy, juatice, in their
bright beams, tiU the discovery of Christ in the flesh and upon the cross.
What knowledge men had by tradition from the first promise was quickly
lost among the corruptions of the old world, and though revived in the legal
ceremonies appointed to the Jews, yet they had not conceptions of the great
intendments of them.
The insufficiency of nature is seen,
[1.] In that by nature we cannot know the things of nature perfectly,

122 chabnock's wobks. , [John XVH. 3.
much less the author of nature.* If we know not the nature of the effects,
how can we know the nature of the cause, which infinitely excels them ?
There hath been a dimness in the reason of man ever since the fall, in refer
ence to those thinga which are before our eyea. We know not the world, of
which we are parts ; we know not ouraelves, though we daily converse with
ourselves ; we understand not well the nature of our own souls, nor the
reason of our own motions and actions ; how then can nature help us to the
understanding of the greater, when it doth not to the understanding of the
less ? How can we arise by the strength of nature to the understanding of
infinite wisdom and power ? If we are not able to arrive to auch a know
ledge of the creatures by weak nature, ao as to give an essential definition
of them ; if the nature of a stone, sound, colour, doth pose us ; if all the
questions put to us about a fly cannot be answered : how much less are we
able to come to the knowledge of God, with the strength which is too weak
for the other ? If we are nonplussed by creatures, much more by the
Creator. [2.] Had nature been able in this affair, or had reason been sufficient to know
God and his counsels concerning us, what need of the mission of the Spirit? It
is he only ' searcheth the deep things of God ;' ' no man knows the things of
God, but the Spirit of God ;' and the end of his sending is, ' that we may
know the things that are freely given us of God,' 1 Cor. ii. 3, &c. AU the
reason of the world would never have arrived to the discovery of those per
fections of God, they being infinitely above us, as our notions and thoughts
are above the reach of a beast, which ia never able to apprehend the nature
of a man, or understand the language of a man, whereby to come to a know
ledge of him. Though reason puts us into a capability of entertaining the
discoveries of him, without which neither outward declarations, nor inward
impressions, could work anything upon us any more than upon a man re
maining out of his wits, yet of itself it is not able to ascend to the conception
of God without the Spirit of God. If men c^puld have redeemed themselves,
what need of the expense of the blood of Christ ? So if men could have
instructed themaelves in thia great knowledge,, -what need of the Spirit to lead
us into the secret chambers of God? Wheresoever,4therefore, any man
knows God, and the things freely given him of God, i, e. the things of the
gospel, wherein the excellency and liberality of God ijisast illustriously ap
pears, it is the gift of the Spirit ; and where any man hath an inward and
spiritual taste of those things, it is the grace of the Spirit in him.
[8.] We find the highest improved nature had strange and unworthy
notions of God, and waa ignorant of him. i'^'ijfche Athenians, the famousest
people in the world for learning, and therefQr.'^%f .more refined understand
ings, confeaaed their ignorance of God in the inscription of the &ihg aymsr'oi
upon the altar. Acts xvii. 23, how could more clouded nature come within
ken of him ? Though by reaaoning they concluded there was a supreme
being who had the superintendency of the world, yet they could not tell what
this God was ; and when the redeeming perfections of God were discoursed
by the apostle to them, they were the subject of the Athenians' scoffs rather
than inquiry, ver. 32. The hidden wisdom of God ' none of the princes
of the world knew,' 1 Cor. ii. 8 ; not the governing princes, though they
were as ignorant as the rest, but the princelike and towering -wits of this
world knew it not ; and though God had displayed before their eyes the
wonders of the world, and given them both in the creation, preservation, and
government ofthe world, a multitude of lessons concerning his nature, which
they might in some measure have discerned by a diligent observation, yet
* Charron trois veritez, lib. i. chap. v. pp. 19, 20, changed.

John XVII. 3.] the knowledge of god in cheist. 123
in the wisdom of God, those leaaons of his wisdom in the creation and pro
vidence, they did not by natural wisdom and the use of their reason know
him, 1 Cor. i. 21. Sometimes their notions of God were rank, and they
framed a misshapen God, modelled according to their own humours, not the
nature of a deity, who could not possibly be of that hue which they repre-
presented him to themselves in. Sometimes they counted him cruel and
unjust, sometimes too fond and indulgent ; some confined him to heaven,
others acknowledged his providence in the greater affairs of the world, but
concluded it unworthy of him to descend to take notice of the fall of a
sparrow or the hairs of the head, and that it was a disturbance of God's
rest to intermeddle with worldly affairs. They stepped out ofthe way of reason
into the paths of fancy, measured God according to their own imaginations
to accommodate their lusts, and lie more at ease soaking in their sins. It
were endless to tell the monstrous thoughts their corrupt minds had of God,
and the multiplicity of their idols, whereby they ' changed the truth of God
into a lie,' Rom. i. 23-25, whereas they might have discerned, by a reason
ing from those excellencies they saw in the creatures, that God was an
infinite, eternal, wise, and self-sufficient being. And such monstrous con
ceptions of God, after the light of the gospel superadded to that of natm-al
reason, do often flutter in the minds of men among us.
2. There was a knowledge of God by or under the law. Before the giving
the law by Moses, God instructed men by the apparitions of angels, visions
to aome prophets, by the holiness of some of his eminent darlings ; under
the law, by flgures and representations, which the wisest of them did but
darkly understand, and that by the aasistance of some special revelation,
which was successively cleared by the propheta, enlightened in aeveral ages
to that purpose. The moral law waa a diacovery of God, chiefly in his
sovereignty, holiness, and justice ; he enacts laws aa a sovereign, righteous
laws againat sin as a holy one, annexeth threatenings and promises as a
judge. In regard of the majesty of God in the discovery, the people were
afraid of death at the promulgation : Exod. xx. 19, ' Let not God apeak
with us, lest we die.' And Moses, who waa the most familiar person with
God in the world, had not a leaa fright at the discovery of it : Heb. xii. 21,
' So terrible was the aight, that Mosea aaid, I exceedingly fear and quake.'
The knowledge of God in the law was too terrible for the minds of men, and
surprised Moses, the friend of God, the interpreter of his will, with an ex
treme horror. God here manifested the marks of his greatness and hia
juatice, armed with instruments of punishment for sin. There was not a
mite of his mercy discovered by the law, but to those that kept his com
mandments, i. e. to those that were without any guilt and crime ; upon which
account the apostle calls the law, the ' ministry of condemnation ' and ' of
death ;' and a kilhng, not a healing letter ; a sword to cut, not a balsam to
close a wound, 2 Cor. iii. 7-9. Nothing of adoption and justifying grace
pronounced in it. The holiness of God was discovered in his precepts, and
his justice in his threatenings. There waa also a daily prospect of the holi
ness and justice of God in the sacrifices exacted of man, in the groans, gasp-
ings, and blood of beasts ; they saw that sin was neither affected by God, nor
would be suffered to remain unpunished ; and their sight of those attributes
in this ministration was greater than the world could have of them by the
now and then sprinklings of judgments, which, being not often upon the
worst of sinners, staggered the understandings, not only of the heathens,
but of aome of the intelligent Israelites, in their conceptions of the nature
of God and his providence. But what was all this to the fuller diacovery of
the purity of his nature, and the terror of his wrath in the execution of the

124 ohaenock's woeks. [John XVII. 3.
curses of the law upon the Son of his bosom ? AU preceding times were
times of dai-kness tiU the coming of Christ ; they were but the shadows of
the night in the figures of the law ; but the morning light was in the rising
of the gospel, Hosea vi. 3. This was a sufficient revelation of God to direct
them to Christ, who could only render God visible and intelligible to man ;
but how insufficient in regard of the corruption of man's nature to imprint
right notions bf God ! How often did the Jews warp and waUow in the
sink of idolatry, notwithstanding thia revelation of God ! Much less sufS-
cient is the knowledge of God by nature.
This natural, legal, and evangelical knowledge by Christ differ,
(1.) In regard of clearness.
[1.] Natural knowledge was dim. In the creation, God writ himself in
hieroglyphics, in short characters ; in Christ, in a plain and legible hand,
which gave a substantial discovery of God. The power, majesty, and wis
dom of God appeared in the ' heavens, the work of his fingera,' Ps. viu. 3,
in maintaining their influences and conducting their motions. The founda-
tiona of the earth, the vastness and rollings of the sea, the habitations of
light, the treasures of snow, floods of rain, the bottles of the clouds, order of
the stars, provision for creatures on the earth, direct us to the knowledge of
a great and glorious being. For upon all those God reads a lecture of him
self to Job in the latter chapters.* That there is a God, may be seen in the
dust of the earth, as well as in the brightness of the heavens ; but by those
works men saw little else but that there was a God : they could know but
little of his nature, congruous to the state wherein they were. That glow
worm light could afford ua at best but weak and languishing notions of God,
and a relation |to him fit for that miserable condition wherein the faU of
Adam had involved us. And by reason of man's negligence, and not im
proving a number of those instructiona concerning the nature of hia virtues,
which the creation furniahed them with, and which they might have attained
by a wiae observation of that which God had revealed in his creation, pre
servation, and government of the world, they gave the bridle to their owh
imaginations, and knew as little of God by his worka, as beasts know of
the nature and reason of a man. The world, therefore, is caUed by some
anigma Dei, and indeed the heathens often erred in their interpretation of
it, and could not unriddle God in the creatures, but worshipped the creature
for the Creator.
[2.] Legal knowledge was also dim. Though the temple, with aU the
ceremonies attending it, waa a clearer representation of the nature and will
of God than the whole frame of the world, yet obscurity waa of the nature
of the legal state ; and the glory of God was wrapped up in a cloud of animal
sacrifices, so that Solomon calls the house wherein God then dwelt, ' a
thick darkness,' 1 Kings viii. 12. The law waa given vrith smoke as well as
thunders, obscurity as weU as terror, Exod. xx. 18. The Israelites were
under a cloud, 1 Cor. x. 1, and the mediator of the law had a veil upon his
face, and the glory of God waa so enveloped in clouds, that the Israelites
could but dimly discern. There was more of shadows than substance, and
the apostle in the Hebrews gives it no better a title than that of a shadow,
opposing it to Christ the substance. And the goapel is said to be tmth
and grace, in opposition to the law, as if there were no trath and grace in
that former dispensation, John i. 17. None, indeed, in comparison of the
clearness of the revelation in the gospel ; though in itself it was a true repre
sentation of God, aa a ahadow may be caUed a true shadow. The law being
compoaed of shadowa could not discover God as the gospel did, which was
* Kofffiijioc ipSiyyftartt.. — Jamblichus.

John X'Vii. 3.] the knowledge op god in chei'st. 125
made up of substance. Moses then did see his back parts, perhaps in the
figure of a man, but in the gospel God shews himself ' in the face of Christ,'
2 Cor. xiv 7. That did discover the features of God more clearly than
the works of nature ; as the form and beauty of a man may be more
discerned through grates and lattices, to which God's appearance in the law
is likened. Cant. ii. 9, than when covered with a thick veil. Very few of
them could bave a ken of the substance for the multitude of shadows. If
we, upon whom the glory of God hath shone in the gospel, are not able to
comment upon every one of thoae figurea, much less eould they who never
saw the antitype, and could not conceive the analogy between them.
[3.], The evangehcal discovery of God by Chriat is clearer. The brightness
of the day dispelled the shadows of the night, and dispersed the clouds
wherewith the sun was masked. As the fulness of the Godhead dwelt per
sonally in Christ, so the fulness of the divine perfections sparkled in the
actions and sufferings of Christ. The Deity shines out in a clear lustre,
which was seen before only in the dusty clouds of creatures and ceremonies.
In nature, we see God as it were hke the sun in a picture ; in the law, as
the sun in a cloud ; in Christ, we see him in his beams, he being ' the
brightness of his glory, and the exact image of hia person,' Heb. i. 3 : as
the rays of the aun, being the production of the sun, cause us by their lustre
to see and understand more of the beauty and brightnesa of the sun ; and
the stamp upon the wax informs us what, is upon the seal. We. see what an
infinite fountain of good God is, and what a dreadful thing ain is, which is a
separation from him ; as by tbe beams of the sun we understand the beauty
of light, and the horror of darkness. Though it be not discerned in its glory
through a mist of vapours, yet it may be known to be risen, and some effects
ofit are sensible to us. So it was in the creation and the law; but in Christ
those vapours are dissolved, the clouds diaperaed, and God appeara in the
sweetness and beauty of his nature, as a refreshing light. The creatures
tell us that there is a God, and Christ tells who and what that God is.
So that the clearness of this knowledge consists
(1.) In the clearness of the medium. Nothing in the world can strike
our sense or influence our minds, but by some medium. Though a man hath
the sharpest eye, yet without an enhghtened air he can behold nothing. The
clearer the glass through which we look, the clearer discerning we have of
the object we look upon. Christ is the clearest medium. As he ia said to
be ' a polished shaft in God's quiver,' Isa. xlix. 2, to pierce the heart by his
grace ; so he may be aaid to be a pohshed glass in his hand, to represent his
majesty, and reflect the beams of God stronger upon us. The gospel,
therefore, in the judgment of some, is meant by the ' sea of glass,' Rev.
XV. 2, in regard of the tranaparency of it, through which we see God, and
his perfectiona. , It was the same God, Jehovah, who waa known by the
Jews, and under the gospel, but not in the same manner ; they had the
same faculties, but not the same Hght to discern the object. The faculty
and act of vision is the same by sun-light and star-light ; we have the same
eyes in the day and the night, the same exercise and rollings of the eye ;
but not having the same clearness of the air, we have not that contentment
in the exercise of our eyes. Things appear not ao beautiful by candlelight
as in the luatre ofthe day ; hence Christ is called a ' Sun of righteousness,'
Mai. iv. 2, as manifesting the righteousness of God, diffusing light and
health by his wings or beams, and chasing away by his splendour the dark
ness of the world, and opening the glories of heaven to the sons of men,
directing them to the knowledge of God, who before wandered in darkness.
The coming of this light, and the rising of the glory of God upon us, are

126 ' chabnock's wobks. [John XVII. B,
knit together : Isa. Ix. 1, ' Thy light is come, and the glory of God is risen
upon thee.' The glory of God, i. e. the mercy and goodness of God, which
is his glory, say some; the glory rather of all his attributes, which Christ is
the medium to clear up to the minds of men. And indeed there is aa great
a difference between the knowledge of God by Christ, and the knowledge of
God by the creatures and the law, as there is between the knowledge of a
man by his footsteps, and the knowledge of him by his image. . Christ is
' the image of the invisible God,' Col. i. 15, as a son is the image of his
father, who ia a better medium to know a father by, than hia footsteps or
his picture. Never an earthly son was ao like hia father, aa Christ is like
God the Father ; he hath the same essence, the same attributes, the same
operations. (2.) The nearness of the object. Chriat bringa God near to us ; he is
Immanuel, God vrith us, God in our nature. The great comforting promises
in the Old Testament were, that God should dwell among them, Joel
iii. 17, Mai. iii. 1. God was not far from every one of us in the creation.
Acta xvii. 27, in regard of his being, in regard of his goodness, though he
was far from us in regard of a satisfactory knowledge of his nature ; as when
a man is at a distance from us in regard of any particular knowledge of him,
yet he is near to ua in regard of our knowledge of his existence and species,
that he is a man, though we cannot perceive hia ahape and features, and
what kind of man he is ; but when he approacheth nearer, he appears
greater, we see his dimensions and discern his age, yet obscurely; but
when he comea close to us, we aee him plainly, and by converse with him
we come to know his temper.* Now, this man ia one and the same man we
saw at a distance, and we see near ; he hath the same shape, the same
features and disposition, but he appears in a different manner according to
the greatness of the distance. God was the same in all ages of the world,
but after he departed to a greater distance from man by reason of sin, and
refrained converse with man, there were but small glimmerings of him in
the creatures, and less to be discerned by the distempered eye of man.f He
came nearer in the law, but that representation was obscure, and fitted more
to the carnal conceptions of men ; whence the apostle calls it ' the rudi
ments and elements of the world,' consisting in sensible representations of
him. Col. ii. 20, Gal. iv. 3. Christ succeeded (in whom God came near to
us, and conversed with us), aa a prospective glass, which makes that which
is afar off to seem near at hand, and manifests it in its dimensions ; by him
we can look through the veil, and be informed of the transactions in heaven
between the Father and the Son on our behalf.
(3.) Fulness of the discovery. What was known before ia better known ;
the knowledge is better for quality, greater for quantity. For by the light
diffused by Christ in the world, since the Ascension of the Redeemer, and
the descent of the Comforter, the simplest believer comprehends more of the
glorious nature of God in his understanding, than the most elevated behever
in the time of the law, either by the flgures of the law, or the features of
the creatures could, with the assistances of the most learned doctors of the
one, or philosophers in the other, which our Saviour verifies in the eulogy
he gives of him that is least in the kingdom of God, i. e. in the gospel state,
magnifying him above John Baptist, whom he confesseth, at the same time,
superior to all that went before him, and indeed knew more than all the pro
phets, yet was inferior to the meanest believer under the New Testamjsnt :|
* Castalio Dialog, p. 143.
-f- ^ Affhvevirt ycc^ op^aXft.'ots ^oXiutos vXios. — Tlieodor. in 2 Cor. iv. 4.
X Mestrezat. sur. 8 Heb. Serm, 4, p, 424, much changed.

John XVII. 3.] the knowledge op god in cheist. 127
Mat. xi. 11, ' Among them that are born of women there hath not risen a greater
than John the Baptist : notwithstanding, he that is least in the kingdom of
heaven is greater than he.' He indeed#saw Christ in the flesh, beheld his
person as the Lamb of God to take away the sins of the world ; knew him aa
the only begotten Son in the bosom of the Father, come into the world for
the declaration of him : a sight and day which Abraham and the prophets
desired to see, and could not obtain ; yet he saw him not dying, rising,
ascending, pouring out the rich gifts of his Spirit, all which did clear up the
righteous, true, wise, gracious nature of God to the simplest behever, after
the accomplishment of them, more than the knowledge of hia incarnation
could to John. He that is least and most ignorant in the kingdom of God,
is greater, i. e. more intelligent than John ; he hath a fuller prospect and a
diviner light ; he knows what John knew, and he knows what John was igno
rant of : he hath aeen and known the performance of thoae thinga, whereof
John only knew the beginning. And this full and plain knowledge Christ
promised before his departure : John xvi. 25, ' The time comes, when I shall
no more speak unto you in proverbs, but I shall shew you plainly of the
Father ;' a promise that receives its full accomplishment in the life to come,
but respects the death, and resurrection, and ascension of Christ, as the time
wherein it waa to begin to be of force ; for those things were nothing else but
the declarations ofthe transactions between the Father and the Son. That
it is meant of a declaration of the Father in this life is evident by the follow
ing words : ver. 26, ' At that day you shall ask in my name.' Earth is the
place for wants and petitions, heaven for vision and praises. The whole
scope of the doctrine of Christ is to reveal God i,n his most illustrious per
fections to man, and in the relation of a gracious Father to him. Christ
speaking in proverbs, is understood by one* of the whole time of the Mosaic
dispensation, wherein Christ was the angel to lead them, and converaed with
them in shadowa and figures, but now in the gospel would plainly declare
the Father to them. Natural and legal knowledge is clarified by the gospel,
which is a comment to explain what waa before but darkly understood, and
a new revelation to elevate the soul to a greater understanding ; it fortifies
the hght of nature, and frames in us more pure and significant conceptions
of God.
Though there be a clearness of the medium, a nearness of the object, and
a fulness of the discovery, yet,
(1.) We muat understand it, not of such a clearness as is possible in its
own nature to be (for there may be a more aenaible manifestation of God),
but of such a clearness as the present state in this world ia capable of It^is
so plain that it can only be superseded by the light of glory ; it is the fullest
that we can meet with in thia world, till we come to behold him in that light
wherewith he clothes himself as with a garment ; and whatsoever discoveries
many may expect, they must be all built upon this foundation. They are
still but beams issuing out, in this acene of things, from the Lamb, who is
the light of the new Jerusalem in the best- estate : Rev. xxi. 23, ' The glory
of God did lighten it, and the Lamb is the light thereof Christ is still the
medium through which the light of the glory of God conveys itself to the
understandings of his creaturea, and God wUl never be repreaented by any
other light than his own. In his own light we see him who is the Father
of lights.
(2.) Nor must we understand it of an absolute fulness of the knowledge of
God. For the brightnesa of his nature is so great, that it cannot be fully
known by a created understanding. The sun cannot be perfectly seen in the
* Ferus in loo.

128 chabnock's woeks. [John XVII. 3.
brightest day, when it traverseth the heavens in its triumphant glories, and
suffers not a vapour to waylay the beams he sends upon the earth ; yet
then he ia clearer seen than when the air ia clogged with vapours and over
spread with clouds. This is a comparative clearness more than in the little
print of creaturea, or than through the screen of ceremonies ; not such a
clearness as shall be on the top of the mount in the eternal transfiguration
of the aoul ; nor ever shall there be an absolute fulness of knowledge of aU
that ia in God, for to know him as he knows himself, requires an under
standing as infinite as hia own.
(2.) They differ in the certainty. Natural knowledge of God is but con
jectural. No position was so firm but some wits of the world found out argu
ments to contradict it. Nor was there wisdom enough in the world to untie
all the knots that were made by others. The whole world of nature lay in
darkness ; it is from that term every man is called that comes to Christ :
1 Pet. ii. 9, ' He hath called us out of darkness ;' and the devU, that ia the
ruler of the carnal world, is ' the ruler of the darkness ' of it, Eph. vi. 12,
spreading hia fogs upon the minda of men. The heathens arrived to the
knowledge of God by rational deductions ; but the most eagle-eyed among
them, who could peer into the secrets of nature, could not reduce their appre
hensions to any fixedness. They had a vanity in their imaginations and
conceptions of hia nature, and aa those our Saviour speaks of, though they
agreed in the unity of the Messiah, yet differed about the peraon. One saith.
Here is Christ ; another, There is Christ ; ao these, God is this, and God is
that, according to their particular fancies. They acknowledged him an
admirable being, but rather darkened than unveiled him. Nothing was
satisfactory to the understanding, many of them saw not the creating power
of God ; one fancies the world eternal ; another conceives it to be compacted
by a multitude of atoma, or amall particles of dust, meeting together by
chance, and kneading themselvea into thia frame we call the world. But the
doctrine of faith diacovers God in his power : Heb. xi. 3, ' By faith we
understand that the worlds were framed by the word of God.' It acquaints
us that the world was created by him ; which, indeed, the reason of many
informed .them of, but not of the manner of the creation, by his sole word
and will, or by the second peraon, the essential Word of God. This we know
by Christ, which we could not know by nature : as Heb. i. 2, ' He hath
spoken to us by hia Son, by whom alao he made the worlda.' But, indeed,
that is not the meaning of Heb. xi. 3, for the word is there g^/iar/ not Xoyui;
the latter is a title of Christ, not the former ; but it is clear from it, that, by
the knowledge of Christ, we have a certain account of the manner of God's
operations. The hght of Christ is, as the hght of the morning, stable.* It
discovers things to us with as much certainty as the morning light doth the
nature of the objects we doubted of in the darkness of the night. As the
sense of vision ia the most acute and exact sense, and extends further, and
with more assurance, than that of hearing and smelling ; ao the knowledge
of faith is the most infallible way of knowledge, it being built upon the reve-'
lation of the Son of God, who is the word of God, and the vrisdom of God.
It is therefore called ' the evidence of things not seen,' Heb. xi. 1, ' the sub
stance of things hoped for.' It is not an imagination or a fancy, but a
demonstration, more firm than any natural demonstration can be. It is a
subsistence in the mind, as sure, and as it were as real, as the subaiatence of
the unseen things believed without us : an evidence as if the things not seen
had not a being but by faith. To an unbeliever, God seems not to have that
power, wisdom, hohness, which are really in his nature : the perfections of
* As the word )133 signifies, as well as prepared, Hos. vi. 3.

John XVII. 3.] the knowledge of god in cheist. 129
God have no existence in the heart of such aman, so that he is without God,
without the knowledge of God ; an atheist in the world. Faith in Christ
rendera God as visible, as he was by the same grace to Moses : Heb. xi. 27,
' By faith he saw him who is invisible.' As the knowledge and faith of the
ancient believera, under the figurea of Christ, rendered God and the things
of the New Testament visible to them, according to the measure of the reve
lation, so doth the knowledge of believers, under the New Testament, repre
sent God and his perfections in a more certain manner visible to them,
because the way of revelation is firmer : that from God by Moses ; this from
God by his Son. It is truth, because declared by ' the only begotten Son of
God,' John i. 17, 18. And, upon the account of the greater sensibility of
this knowledge under the gospel, it is the promise to' the Jews, that ' then
they shall know the Lord,' Jer. xxxi. 4. As though the knowledge of him
in nature, and the knowledge of him under the law, had been a kind of igno
rance in comparison of this, as it is indeed in regard of the clearness and
certainty of this by Christ.
3. In nature, God is discovered for contemplation ; in Christ, God ia dis
covered to be embraced as well as admired. Nature never did, nor ever can,
elevate one heart to a conformity to the holiness of God, because it could
not make known hia transcendent hatred of sin, and his rich condescending
grace, as the discovery of Christ doth. If it cannot ken the mysteries of God,
it can never conduct men to a holy compliance with God according to his
nature. There is not a syllable of the naturalness of God's justice, and the
necessity of a satiafaction of infinite value, in the whole book of nature. It
discovers the existence of a God, but not the way of closing with God.
Nature discovers a God of unconceivable excellency, but brings no saving
message from him. It sets out God as a being to be adored, Christ sets out
God as a being to be enjoyed. That preaenta notions of God to our minds,
this imprints motions to God in our wiUs. Nature presents God in some of
hia creating glory, Christ presents God in his redeeming grace, with his arms
open, hia voice encouraging and directing his creatures to a way of fruition.
Nature directs us to the admiration of God, because there is some resem
blance of God in every creature ; for whatsoever God hath created, he hath
created according to his own idea, and with a print of his own goodness upon
it. He at the first creation pronounced aU things good, Gen. i. 31. But
all created goodness is a participation of the divine goodness, and by conse
quence some kind of conformity to the divinity, and the more excellent any
creature is, the stronger and fuller stamp it hath of the goodness and excel
lency of God ; the consideration of which would rationally guide the mind
to an acknowledgment of an infinite perfection in the author of them, but is
unable to conduct men to a due compliance with God. Not that they have
any greater insufficiency in themselves to perform the end for which they
were created, than they had when they were first made ; but because of men's
inability to improve their natural instructions, since the crack of their
rational faculties by the fall. The case is the same with them as with the
law ; the law hath the same virtue and power of direction and making men
happy, as it had in the state of innocence, i.e. in itself; but man by his
lameness, contracted by the fall, was unable to walk the pace of the law, and
enjoy the blessings of it. The law was ' weak through the flesh,' Rom.
viii. 3, not in itself. So the creatures are not unable of themselves to answer
the end of their creation; but man, by reason of his darkness, is unable to
make an improvement of what the creatures do dictate. Yet I cannot see
that the whole book of nature presents us with that knowledge of God, which
vol. rv. I

130 chabnock's woeks. [John XVii. 3.
is necessary for us in the present state wherein we are lapsed ; for they were
created to serve man as innocent, not as an offender ; in whioh relation he
stands now to God as a judge, and cannot know by all hia natural learning,
without revelation, what the nature of God is in this case, and what ia neces
sary for him to do, worthy of God, for his restoration. Such a discovery of
God and the way of comphance with him in such a manner as becomes God,
in thia relation, ia only known by the revelation Jesus Christ hath made.
Yet there is so much laiowledge to be had of God by the creation, as to ren
der men inexcuaable before the dirine tribunal. Though they never heard the
sound of the gospel, they wUl be justly punished at last, not for the neglect
of that which they never heard, but for their contradiction to the voice of
their own consciences, the universal sound of nature, the lessons they might
have learned from the whole creation, especially the heavens, which ' declare
the glory of God ; ' for the thwarting the firat principles and notions implanted
in their hearts, and damping thoae secret motions and touches they had by
a manifestation ofhis common goodness to 'seek after God,' Acts xvii. 26, 27.
The creation of the world, and the mercies men are indulged with, are that
they might seek the Lord. For there is not a drop of rain or a fruitful
season, but is a witness of a God to be sought after. Acts xiv. 16, 17. AU
thia wiU render men inexcusable at the laat day. All men have such rehcs
of natural light, more than are due to a fallen nature, as will condemn them
in their own consciences, though there is not enough to render them so in
telligent of God, as is necessary for their recovery from their lapsed state.
Christ only opens the heavens to let out the beams of God upon mankind,
and opens the heart and understanding to receive them, and reflect them
back upon God in those several duties required at man's hands in his present
broken estate.
The second thing is,
II. That the clear knowledge of God is attained only by Christ. The full
revelation of God was promised to be given out by the Messiah, the grand
prophet God promised, upon the Israelites' desire that God might not speak
immediately to them : Deut. xviii. 16-18, ' The Lord thy God will raise up
unto thee a prophet from the midst of thee, &c. ; to him shall you hearken;'
intimating thereby, that a higher discovery was to be made by him of the mind
of God. Why else ahould they be bound to hearken to him more than any
other prophet ? He was to be 'a light to the Gentiles, to open the blind
eyes,' laa. xiii. 6, 7. God would call them in righteousness, according to
the promise he had made to Abraham, and afterwards to the Israehtes, of a
great prophet, to take off the veU and darkness in regard of God, and remove
their erroneous conceptions of God, whence he is called ' the light of the
world ;' and ver. 8 seems to intimate, that the majeaty of God and his name,
and the incommunicableneaa of his attributes, were to be the subject of this
discovery: ' I am the Lord, that is my name ; my glory will I not give to
another ;' and John xvii., Christ asserts, that he had manifested the name of
his Father, and would further declare it to the sons of men. So that the
spring of all spiritual knowledge is in Chriat: he is ' made wisdom' to us,
1 Cor. i. 30 ; from him we draw all sorts of spiritual understanding and
revelation ; by him we have the Ulumination of our minds, as well aa the
justification of our persons, the sanctification of our natures, and redemption
from our enemies. He is the mirror that represents to us the perfections of
God, being the brightness of his glory. Every beam whereby God is mani
fested is shot through him ; as every pardon, whereby the grace of God is
discovered and the soul refreshed, is dispensed through him. The Jews ex-

John XVII. 3.] the knowledge of god in cheist. 131
pected the discovery of the face of God by the Messiah, and to that purpose
interpreted, Dan. ii. 22, 'He reveals deep and secret thinga, and the light
dwella with him.' That light ia the Messiah dweUing with God, and some
of them call him by the name of light there mentioned, NITll, though the
words seem only to declare that God is the author of aU knowledge, and sees
by a clear light whatsoever is done among the sons of men. It is certain,
that whatsoever tends to the glory of God, his sovereignty, wisdom, right
eousness, grace, is fully revealed by Christ. He hath declared who is the
creator, governor, judge of all; that he is the chief good, the last end, and
revealed all the means whereby we may come to a conjunction with him, and
fruition of him, and exchange our darkness and misery for hght and blessed
ness; and this chiefly by his death, for by that the perfections of God, hid
in the inflnite depths of his own essence, were in their rays transmitted to
us. He could not be known, either by creatures or bare Scripture, in such a
manner as he is known in the cross of Christ, wherein his immense good-
ness, profound wisdom, severe justicCj'exact truth, infinite condescension, are
manifested in such a manner, that it is as, or more, imposaible to conceive
how God can make an higher discovery of himself, as it was for men and
angels to conceive before, how he should make so rich a discovery of himself
as this is. The cross of Christ was the dissolution of the ignorance of men.
The darkness which had lain upon the land of Egypt (a type of the ignorance
of man by nature, as the Israelites' deliverance typified the redemption by
Christ) was taken off in the morning on the passover day, a type of the death
of Christ.
But take in these propositions, what is to be said about this.
1. Christ was only capacitated for this discovery of God.
(1.) In regard of his intimacy with the Father. Though Moses was a non
such for converse with God, and spake with him face to face, yet he had not
that intimacy as Christ had, who lay 'in the Father's bosom,' John i. 18,
in the depths of his counsels, the intimate knowledge of his nature, in the
delights of his favour. The secret of the Father is called the bosom of the
Father, wherein he not only was but is ; he is in the bosom of the Father in
heaven, while he is exposed to infirmities below. ' No man hath aacended
into heaven, but he that came down from heaven, even the Son of man, which
is in heaven,' John iii. 13, i.e. no man hath understood the secret mysteries
of God but Christ. He only knows those counsels, eternal transactions, and
condescensions of God, because he only was interested in them. He hath not
things by revelation, as the prophets and apostles, nor from the law and Scrip
ture, as other teachers. None of them had seen any but the shadows, and
tasted some ravishments in the visions when they were revealed ; none of
them had been in heaven and seen thoSe things in the fountain, in the counsel
of God. Isaiah, Ezekiel, Daniel, acquainted men with many secrets of God,
but they had not seen in heaven the things which they declared to others.
Nor was the full scope and design of those revelations understood by the pro
phets themselves : 1 Peter i. 11, ' They searched what the Spirit of Christ
did signify.' They were more prophetical instruments than prophetical agents ;
the Spirit rather spoke through them than to them. They saw thinga in
images, heard them in obscure representations, and so delivered them as ob
scurely as they understood them ; and those that were most familiar with
God, aa Mosea, had their revelationa on earth, not in heaven. But Christ
saw all things in the secret of his Father in their proper form, without dreams
and visions ; he had sucked in the truth from the fountain, and drew that
which he taught from the depths of wisdom in the bosom of his Father, which
could not be in the power of any man ; and therefore, John iii. 31, 82, ' He

132 chabnock's wobks. [John XVII. 3.
that comes from above is above all, and what he hath seen and heard that he
testifieth.' Others testify what they have heard ; Chriat testifies what he hath
seen as well as heard. He did not only hear and report, but he saw the
things himself ; and in regard of hia divine nature ia above aU teachers, as
well as above all creatm-es. Was any else ever sealed with the brightness
of God's glory? Was any else the dew from the womb of the morning? Did
any else come out of the depths of the fountain and Father of lights _? None
was ever called the angel of God'a presence or face but Jesus Chriat, Isa.
Ixiii. 9.
(2.) In regard of his being the medium of the first discovery of God in
the creation. ' All things were made by the Word of God, and without him
was not anything made that was made,' John i. 3, 4 ; and being ' the life of
men,' he was only capable to be ' the light of men.' Christ was the voice of
God, whereby he exerted his power to bring things from nothing into being.
' The Lord said. Let there be light,' Gen. i. 3 ; and oftentimes, ' God said,'
vers. 6, 9, 11, 14, 20, &c, which was not an external sound or voice, but the
essential Word of God, whereby he communicated his goodness to the world
in creation. A mere voice or outward sound of words could not be an instru
ment of itself to frame the world to such a beauty. And that the mystery of
the second person lay in that often repetition of God said, in Gen. i., is ob
vious from John i. 1, which seems to be a comment upon and explanation of
it : 'In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the
Word waa God,' so that the story of the creation is deciphered to us by God's
speaking, to signify unto us that eternal Xoyog whereby the Scripture assures
ns ' God created the world,' Heb. i. 2, who was ' with him when he laid the
foundations of the earth, stretched out the heavens, and digged a place for the
sea,' Prov. viii. 22, &c. He is the wisdom and power of God in creation as
well as redemption. Now, as in the creation the Son communicated to all
creatures some resemblance, of God, and the end of the creation being to de
clare God to the rational creature, it was moat proper for the Son of God
to make those further declarations of him which were necessary, who at first
made the manifestation of God in the frame of the world. As the beautiful
image of reason in the mind, breaking out with the discovery of itself in
speech and words, ia fittest to express the inward sense, thoughts, concep
tions, nature, and posture of the mind, so the essential Word of God clothes
himself with flesh, comes out from God to manifest to us the nature and
thoughts of God. He which is the word of God ia fittest to manifest the
nature of God. The word in the mind of a man is insensible to others,
but published with the voice is made sensible, and makes the peraon know
whoae word it is.
2. It was fit a higher knowledge of God should be manifested by Christ
than by other prophets. It had not been for the honour of this prophet, who
was greater than Solomon, greater than Moses, to have no more to discover
of God than what was clearly known before in the church of the Jews ; he
had then been no prophet of note, a prophet without a discovery, a title
without an office. As he is a king in name who hath nothing to govern, so
he is but the echo of a prophet that repeats only what was declared before.
The intimacy of our Lord Jesus with the Father had not appeared, if he had
not something to manifest which was hid from the messengers that went
before. That he might have an exceUency above other prophets, and appear
in the world -nith more eminent prerogatives, there was to be a greater effu
sion of light.* He had not been a San of righteousness if he had shined no
brighter than an ordinary star. Since his coming v/as to be glorious, wherein
* Camern, p. 374 ; Col. i, 2.

John XVII. 3.] the knowledge of god in chbist. 133
could the glory of it be, if the greatness of the knowledge of God were not
one excellent prerogative belonging to his incarnation, and in such a measure
that the light that dawned before in the world, either from creatures, law, or
prophets, should be as nothing compared with this sun ? And though what
soever was known of God by men was known by the mediation and direction
of Christ, to whom, after the fall, God had committed all judgment (whence
the ' Spirit of Christ' is said to ' speak in the holy prophets,' 1 Peter i. 11,
and from him Isaiah received his instructions when he shewed himself to be
sitting upon hia throne, laaiah vi. 1, compared with John xii. 41), yet some
things were reserved hid for the gracing the office of this great prophet, as
the doctrine of the Trinity, and real distinction of the three persons in the
Godhead, the union of the divine and human nature, which were as clearly
revealed by Christ under the New Testament aa they had been obscurely
under the Old. Ante adventum Christi sciebatur Deus, Pater ignorabatur.*
3. The discovery of God was the great end of Christ's appearance upon
the earth, hia office. He was to declare things ' hid from the foundation of
the world,' Mat. xiii. 35 ; to unfold the mysteries and secret counsels of God,
and remove the shades and veils between him and the understandings of men,
and reveal things which God never revealed before. In him who was God's
light we were to see light, Ps. xxxvi. 9. In the Messiah, as the Jews expound
it, or by the grace of God in him, we were to know God with clearness. The
world waa a dark chaoa till Christ the Sun appeared in it, as the earth was
till light was formed. Christ was not only to make a propitiation for us, but
a manifestation of God to us ; thia was the design of his Father in sending
him, John xvii. 6. As the sun hath not light only for himself, but for thef
world, so had Christ the knowledge of God in his human nature, not for
himself, but to spread abroad in the world. He came out from ' the bosom
of the Father to declare him,' John i. 18 ; i^riyiisSai, to bring to light the
hidden things of God, and comment upon the abstruse excellencies of the
Deity. Thia was the common opinion of the Jews, that adventu MessiiB res
absconditas et profundas apertas fore omnibus, aa appears by the Samaritan
woman, John iv. 25, ' When the Messias is come, he wUl tell us all things.'
' Before him there was no God formed,' Isa. xliii. 10, no right notion of God
formed in the minds of men, no conceptions of his power, wisdom, pardoning
grace, and saving mercy. The knowledge of Christ is urged in Scripture,
not aa the ultimate term of our knowledge, but as the medium of our know
ledge of God ; for the term mediator, and the office of prophet, evidence thia.
A mediator ia to discover the inclinations and resolutions of the party with
whom we are at variance, in order to the piecing up an agreement ; a
prophet discovera something of the mind and will of God to us. We are
to know Christ, as he is the only person appointed to direct us to the
knowledge of God ; therefore, though Moses and Elias were with him upon
the mount of transfiguration, i. e. though the law and the prophets pointed
to Christ and declared something of God, yet we are ordered by the yoice
of God to hear him only, as the great instructor of the world : Mat. x-rii. 5,
' This is my beloved Son, in whom I well pleased : hear ye him.' It is
his incommunicable title as mediator, to be our only master : Mat. xxiii. 10,
' One is your master, which is Chriat.' He is only the wiadom of God,
as discovering the secrets of heaven to the believer without those clouds
of Levitical rites.
4. The angels have the clearest knowledge of God by Christ, much more
man. The voice of Christ extended to heaven as well as earth, and mani
fested the greatness of God to angels as well aa men. As he was the medium
* Hieron, in Ps. ciii. 1.

134 chabnock's wobks. [John XVII. 3.
of their creation, so he was the medium of the manifestation of God to them,
that from the same hand from which they had their being they might have
their happiness and perfection of their nature. The whole time they had
seen the face of God in heaven, they knew little of him aa he is known in
Christ, nor could conceive him so admirable as the revelation of him by
Christ represents him. If they had seen in lumine gloria, all that which
may be known of God in lumine gratia, what need they bow down them
selves (a posture intimating pains, curiosity, and earnestness of inquiry) to
wards the divine propitiatory, to dive, if they can, to the very bottom ofit?
1 Peter i. 12. It was this way that God would give them a knowledge of
the depths of his wisdom, and his other perfections : Eph. iii. 10, ' To the
intent that now, unto the principalities and powers in heavenly places, might
be known by the church the manifold wisdom of God.' It was one end of
God in the manifestation of the riches of his grace to the Gentiles, to enrich
the angelical nature with a greater light, that thereby they might be fur
nished with more ravishing matter of his praise. Not that the angels are
present at sermons, to understand thinga they knew not before ; but that by
the effects of God in the world, gathering men into Chriat, and framing a
church out of lost mankind, they contemplate the manifold wisdom of God.
God might have communicated this to them by immediate revelation, but he
remits them to gather it from his effects, and to view it in the glass of Christ
and hia church. This was the purpose of God, to increase the knowledge
and matter of the angels' praise, when he should pour out his treasures in
Christ upon the world ; not by the church's teaching them, but objectively,
by a sight of thoae things acted in the church. If they then learn so much
of the excellency of God by the caUing of the Gentiles, how much more must
they learn by the contemplation of the Son of God in his incarnation and
passion ? And to this purpose consider 1 Tim. iii. 16, ' And, without con
troversy, great is the mystery of godliness : God was manifest in the flesh,
justified in the Spirit, seen of angels,' &c., seen of, or appeared to the angels.*
It cannot be understood of a simple viaion ; so was Abraham, Moses, Ehas,
seen of the angels. Every believer is seen of them, since they are minister
ing spirits to the heirs of salvation ; all the world is seen of them. What
grandeur is there in the mystery of godliness in this regard, that Christ was
seen of angels, if it be meant of a simple vision ? Nor is it meant of the
sight that angels had of him at his resurrection and ascension ; for so he
waa seen by the apostlea and other disciples, and by the women that came
to the sepulchre. And was thia a mystery, for angels to see that which was
obvious to the view of men ? Not seen of angela, that they might be wit
nesses of his resurrection ; to whom ahould they be so ? To hia disciples ?
Christ in his own person witnessed his reaurrection to them. To the world?
Angels were not made apostles by Christ for auch a purpose. The apostles
founded the witneaa they gave of the resurrection of Christ to the world, not
upon the revelation of angela, but upon their own sight and knowledge of
him. He was aeen of angela, as he was justified by the Spirit ; declared to
be the Son of God, Redeemer of the world, as he was preached to the Gen
tiles ; aa mediator and reconciler, as he was received up into glory, approved
of by God, settled aa an advocate for mankind. Not seen of angels to receive
from him any healing virtue, as the brazen serpent waa aeen of the Israelites
to extract the venom of the fiery ones, because they had none of that poison
in them ; but aeen of angels, as a mediator representing to them a greater
knowledge of God in the mystery of redemption than the beauty and order
of the world, their own glory in heaven, the variety of past providences, the
* Amyraut, Sermon sur cet texte.

John XVII. 3.] the knowledge of god in cheist. 135
former communications of God to the Jewish church, could possibly teach
them. The angela could not behold the essence of God, though they stood
before him in heaven. No finite creature in the most elevated condition can
see that which is infinite. The glorious essence of God is too iUustrious for
any creature to behold without being overwhelmed by the brightness of it,
and is so immense that it infinitely surpasseth the angelical understanding.
Hence they are in the vision portrayed with wings to cover their faces as
well as their feet, Isa. vi. 2, as not able to sustain the glorious lustre of his
countenance, as we cover our eyes with our hands when we are invaded with
too dazzling a light. They must therefore have some other medium of the
knowledge of him than by a direct vision ; this they have by Christ. They
know something of him by the creation of the world, by Scriptures ; they saw
that, after the revolt of mankind, God expressed a care and tenderness towards
the world ; and thereby they know him to be a God of patience, as well as
before they had known him to be a God of justice in the punishment of the
apostate spirits. They saw that God employed them iu many messages to the
patriarchs and Israehtes, and about the affairs of the world. They saw him
bear with the idolatry of the Gentiles, and spare those arrows they had de
served to be shot against them. They might suspect there was aome way of
reconciliation intended. They knew the prophecies of a Redeemer, the
promise of the seed of the woman, as well as Adam did by the knowledge of
Scripture, yet the manner and methods of it were reserved as a mystery in
the secret counsels of God. They were not ignorant in general of what God
would do, but the predictions of it being obscure, their knowledge of it must
be of the same nature. They knew the mystery of Christ's incarnation when
it came to be accomplished, and knew then that the design of it was peace
on earth, and the fountain of it good vrill to men. But all this knowledge
waa nothing to that which they had experimentally and clearly, when they
saw the things themselves perfected. When they saw the Son of God re
maining in his divine nature in heaven, and yet, by an admirable union to
the human nature, manifested in the infirmities of our flesh ; when they
saw him in the divine nature sitting upon a throne of justice, yet exposed to
the sufferings of the cross, injured by men, invaded by devUs, deserted by
his Father, heaven and earth in confusion at the groans and death of the
Son of God ; when they aaw him justified in the Spirit, raised from death,
ascending up to heaven with that body wherein he had suffered : they learned
more of God and hia nature, more of the depths of his wisdom, treasures of
his grace, and power of his wrath, than they had done by all God's actiona
in the world, from the foundation of it, in all those four thousand years
wherein they had remained in being.
5. The manner how we have by Christ the knowledge of God will also
evidence it. Not to speak that the naked declaration of Christ is a mani
festation of God, we have it.
(1.) By way of purchase. The declarations of the name of God are
founded upon the expiation of sin, made by the merit of the death of Christ.
All the knowledge of God we have by reason ia not from nature, but is a part of
Christ's purchase. He was the Lamb slain from the foundation of the world,
and is thereupon the light that enlightens every man that comea into
the world. Sin made the veil between God and ua, and Christ's sacrifice
removed it. God ahone out upon man, till a cloud of iniquity interposed ;
the Sun of righteousness dissolved the cloud, and made the nature of God
visible to us. The propitiation made upon the cross is the cause of the
knowledge of God under the new covenant : Heb. viii. 11, 12, ' All shall
know me, from the least to the greatest. For I wiU he merciful to their un-

136 chabnock's woeks. [John XVII. 3,
righteousness, and their sins and their iniquity I will remember no more.' '
God smelt ao sweet a savour in the blood of hia Son that he was appeased, , ,
opened his treaaures, sent out his Spirit to acquaint men with his nature,
counsels, and thoughts; and though the Spirit descended before, in some
sprinklings and dews, yet not in a full shower, tiU Chriat had died, and
carried his perfuming blood to heaven, presented it to God ; whereupon the
veil was drawn, the heavens opened, the Spirit poured out upon men, and
that hght given to the souls of his people which was necessary for their in
struction. It was after his death and ascension that he gave gifts to men,
whereby some became apostles, some evangelists, that men might come to a
knowledge of Christ, and by him to a knowledge of God.
(2.) By illumination. Our reason being impaired by sin, and the acuteness
of it dulled by the disease of Adam, the understanding must be renewed,
and reason must be repaired, to know the mysteries of heaven. For as there
must be an eye to discern things visible, so there must be a mind to discern
things spiritual, for ' the natural man receives not the things of God,' 1 Cor.
ii. 14. Though they be propounded (for the word not receiving implies an
offer),* yet auch is the constitution of corrupt nature in every man, that he
comprehends not the thinga of the Spirit of God ; and so great is the dispro
portion between the excellency of the things propounded and the disposition
of the carnal mind, that he judgeth of those things differently from their true
nature ; for the mind is carnal and the things are spiritual, and therefore
there must be a spiritual faculty to enable for the discerning of them.
Christ therefore tells the Phariaeea, John v. 87, 88, that they had 'neither
heard his voice, nor seen his shape, and had not his word abiding in them ;'
i. e. they had no knowledge of God, because they believed not. Their por
ing upon the law and the Scriptures was to as little purpose, till the darkness
of their minds was removed, as a blind man's bending his face to a book till
his eyes be restored. This ia the work of Christ : he presents God to the
mind, and fits the mind to take a prospect of God. He offers the object
and preparea the faculty, he flasheth the light and dischargeth the mind of
the films which hinder the reception of it : 1 John v. 20, ' We know that the
Son of God is come, and hath given us an understanding that we may know
him that is true.' He hath given us an understanding,! is not meant of the
natural faculty, whioh ia the gift of God in nature and creation, and which
grace presupposeth, but of an enlightened and purified mind, which is
operative upon the will and heart, and imprints so firmly the glory of God
upon the mind, that the wUl is carried out to love and fear him ; which com
pliance of the wUl with an iUuminated underatanding ia the formal act of our
regeneration. This ia given only by Christ, for ' who teacheth like him ?'
Job xxxvi. 22 ; who doth not only present but imprint the object, and of
darkneas makes us ' hght in the Lord.' Hence Christ is compared to a roe
or a wild goat, J which is a creature not only of an acute sight itself, but
hath that humour in the bowels that expels dulness from the eyea and
sharpens the sight. So Christ doth not only see the Father, but makes us
see him, when he hath opened our understandings.
III. The third thing is, the necessity of this medium for the knowledge of
God. This hath been evident already. For,
1. The insufficiency of other mediums shews us the necessity of some
other, and God hath revealed no other but this of Christ, which seems to be
a standing and eternal one, whereby God wUl transmit his beams upon
* Amyraut. paraphrase in loc. t Mestrezat in loc.
J Cant, ii, 9 A.fxif (Septuagint), Voss, de Idolat. lib, iii, cap. 58.

John XVII. 3.] the knowledge of god in cheist. 137
glorified souls ; for so it wiU be in that state of the church in this worid,
which is but one remove from that of heaven : Rev. xxi. 23, ' The glory of
God did hghten it, and the Lamb is the light thereof.'
2. The knowledge of the angels being by this medium evidenceth the
neceasity of it. For what is necessary to those unspotted understandings,
is much more necessary for us, who have weaker intellectual eyes.
S. The immense glory of God, and our natural weakness as creatures,
evidence the necessity of it. The glory of God would overwhelm the under
standing of a creature, there is too great a disproportion between God and
us, his infinite glory would dazzle and stupify us. The weakness of our
sight hinders from a full prospect of the stars, much more from a sight of
the body of the sun, which is more offensive than delightful to our eyes, both
by its brightness and its heat, if we venture to lift them up without an
instrument fitted for that purpose. If we cannot then gaze upon the sun
with our bodily eyes without being oppressed by its lustre, how can we look
upon God with the eyea of our minds, without being overwhelmed by that
dazzling light wherewith he clothes himself as with a garment, since God is
more tranacendently excellent above the capacity of our understandings, than
the sun can be too bright for the eyes of our bodies ? The sun, as glorious
as it is, may be seen and viewed, not only by its effects, but in a glass or a
vessel of water or a thin cloud ; but we can only see and know God in Christ
his image, and the beam and ' brightness of his glory,' Heb. i. 3. The glory
of God is refracted by Christ, and tempered to our weakness, whereby we
may believingly behold his love without complaints of scantiness, and see his
justice without fear of being consumed by it, and instead of being oppressed
by his light, may be ' changed into the same image from glory to glory,'
2 Cor. iii. 18. Christ is the veil through which we may look upon God, as
through a veil we may behold the sun. He that hath seen Christ hath aeen
the Father : John xii. 46, ' He that sees me seeth him that sent me ;' and
he that knows Christ knoweth the Father, because of the likeness of one to the
other, John xiv. 9. He that spiritually knows the Son knows the Father.
Not he that seeth|Chriat corporeally, for then the unbelieving pharisees might
be said to aee the Father ; nor he that aeeth Christ intellectually, for then
mere Christian notionalists may be said to see the Father ; but he that sees
Christ spiritually with a knowledge of faith, knowa the Father, for the majesty
and bounty of God shine in Christ as an exact image.*
IV. The fourth thing is, what knowledge of God is diacovered to us by
Chriat. We do not only know in Christ what we know by creation, but more
than can possibly be known of God by the works of his hands. All his
works in creation are but obscure flashes of his nature in comparison of this.
God hath opened himself abundantly in the sufferings and exaltation of
Christ, and done enough to raise himself from those common thoughts and
apprehensions men have of him. He hath spread abroad the ensigns of his
majesty, to clear the minds of men, raise their admirations, and elevate their
thoughts and esteem of him. The church, therefore, in the time of the
gospel, is called ' the throne of God,' Jer. iii. 17, and a ' glorious high
throne,' Jer. xvii. 12 (the legal state was called the ' throne of his glory,'
Jer. xiv. 21), because therein, by Christ, he doth, as kings upon the throne,
shew himaelf in hia royalty and magnificence, in the largeneaa of his bounty,
severities of his justice, lustres of his wisdom, and the honour of his law, in
Christ the head of the church, and this manifestation of God was chiefly in
* Non ut ipse sit pater qui Alius ; sed quod a patris similitudine in nullo prorsus
discrepat filius. — August, iii loc.

188 chabnock's woeks. [John XVII. 8.^1
the death of Christ : John xiii. 81, 'Now is the Son of man glorified, and
God ia glorified in him.' Now shall there be a manifestation of my good
will to men, and obedience to God, and a manifestation therein of God's love
to mankind and justice against sin.
In Christ, there is,
j First, A collection of God's perfections.
Secondly, The harmony of all.
1. AU the attributes of God are glorified in Christ. This was the
petition of Christ, John xii. 28, ' Father, glorify thy name. Then came a
voice from heaven, saying, I have both glorified it, and will glorify it again,'
i. e. thy attributes and the perfectiona of thy nature, make them all illustrious
in the work I have undertaken ; which petition God readily assents to, so
much was his heart and dehght set to make the brightnesa of his own nature
appear in thia way ; which glorification is not any addition to the essential
glory of God, but the manifesting it and making it known in the riches of it
to the sons of men. Christ added no glory to God's nature by his death
and resurrection, but opened the curtains, and manifested that which had
lain hid from eternity in the infinite depths of hia own essence. In this
regard he is called by the name of the ' glory of God' rising upon the world,
Isa. Ix. 1. For Christ is a certificate wherein the world may read how ex
ceUent, wise, bountiful, just, faithful, holy, God ia. These are all visible in
him in the noblest manner, so that we cannot deliberately view and con
sider Christ, but we are presently informed of the glory of the Deity. Since
Christ waa so loving, tender, holy, religious, we must conclude the Father is
of the same nature ; he would not send one unlike himself, one that was not
the character of his person, upon such an errand as the discovery of his own
nature to men and angels. God had in several ages of the world pitched
upon particular seasons, to manifest one or other particular property of his
nature : his justice, in drowning the old world and firing Sodom ; his truth
and power, in freeing the Israelitea from the Egyptian chains ; his truth, in
performing a promiae which had lain ao long dormant ; his power, in quelling
his enemies by the meanest of his creaturea ; his wisdom, in delivering them
from the Babylonish captivity, by the ordering secondary means for the
attainment of their end. In the creatures, one or other attribute seems to
be more illustrious in one than another : in aome appears more'of goodness,
in another more of wisdom, in another more of power, though his glory
shines in all ; as not a star in heaven but sparkles, and discovers not only
itaelf, but something of the heaven wherein it is placed, yet some with more
lustre than others, according to the portion of light afforded them. But in
Christ all the perfections of God are centred together, as if all the stars
were made one body, and transmitted their light in one beam upon the world ;
or as various streams gliding from several parts and circling large compasses
of ground fall unanimously into the sea, and rest in the bosom of it. In
him sparkle the justice of God in the puishment of sin ; mercy, in laying
foundations of pardon ; bounty, in his love to his creaturea ; faithfulness, in
the accomplishment of hia promises, and reaUaing the figurea of the law ;
wisdom, in framing and managing the gospel design ; holiness, against the
poUutiona of the world in the condemnation of sin ; and power, in effecting
what he pleased in his own counsel. Hence it ia that God, so often speaking
of hia design of redemption, adds often, ' that I may be glorified,' Isa.
xlix. 8, and Ix. 21, &c, as though he had none, or but a retaU glory by
creation, but the riches and full sum of it waa to be gathered in and laid ont
in the work of redemption by Christ. For of some of his attributes we could , ,
have no account by the creation, and of others not so apparently and de-

John XVII. 8.] the knowledge op god in cheist. 141
lightfuUy as in the transactions of Christ. For as the sun excels al not
stars in discoveries, dispersing his rays in all climates of the earth, so c-as
Christ, the Son of the Father's boaom, and the Sun of righteousness, excecv
all creatures in the revelation of the exceUenciea of God. Chriat is the stage
wherein aU the attributes of God act their parts : in creation, he waa a God of
goodneas and power ; in providence, a God of wiadom ; in the law, a God of
juatice ; in Christ, a God of all, and a God of grace, a Father of mercy.
2. As in Christ all the attributes of God are manifest to man, so they are
manifest in an exact harmony. In Jesus Christ those attributes that seemed
to look with an ill aspect on one another, are mixed together with unex
pressible sweetness, and knit in an eternal amity. Patience rejoiceth at its
indefatigable waiting, juatice triumphantly flourisheth the bloody sword
bathed in the heart of the Redeemer, and mercy as triumphantly kisseth it,
justice glorying and mercy singing at the triumphs of juatice, truth holding
both threatenings and promises in conjunction in her bosom ; all caressing
one another, and applauding the designs and accomplishments of manifold
wisdom and infinite power, which removed the aeeming contrarietiea, and
tied a knot between time and eternity. Christ is ' the first-born of every
creature,' Col. i. 15, or of all creation, '^rdsrig xrlssoig. As the first-born is the
strength of the parent, so is Christ the atrength of God. Tbe glories of God
scattered in the creation are gathered into him, all things in heaven and
earth ; the glories of God in the confirmed fehcity of angels, and restored
happiness of man. As he gathered angels and men into one family, ' all
things in heaven and earth,' Eph. i. 10, so he gathered all the attributes
of God into one sum, to conspire together for the welfare of believers. His
justice made our iniquities meet upon him, that they might not remain upon
us ; wrath passed by us and seized upon him ; wisdom contrived for his
own glory and our good. His truth made good his promises upon our
persons, and his threatenings upon our aurety ; he took the curse off from
us to fulfil it on Christ, Gal. iii. 13, that he might be righteous as well as
gracious ' to forgive us our sins ;' 1 John i. 9, the treaaures of his goodness
and grace are opened in him, that we might receive ' grace for grace,' John
i. 16 ; more grace from God in redemption than that we forfeited by trans
gression, more habitual grace for our establishment than Adam had in
paradise for his standing. He ia ' made wisdom, righteousness, sanctifica
tion, and redemption,' the power, wisdom, justice, holineaa of God to ua ;
goodness, grace, love, righteousness, whatsoever distinction they have in
themselves, meet all in him in their glory and sweetneaa, combine together,
and sing one and the same note for the happiness of man. All the treasures of
them are laid open in Christ, to be laid out in all the fruits flowing from
them for the eternal welfare of believers. How delightful a knowledge of God
is thia which Chriat transmits to his people ! How much higher and more
ravishing ia this prospect of God than that in the creation ! All variety
with harmony is pleasant ; the choicest music is made up of discords skUfuUy
fitted to agree with one another, and compose a charming air. Thia is that
Christ, in whom God hath made all his attributes, which seemed to be in
debate against man, [and irreconcilable to one another, to be in league
together for the good of every believing soul, and rendered all their ways
'ways of pleasantness, and all their paths peace.' Let our souls praise
him, let us delight to view him; this is that prophet, let us rejoice in him,
But in particular the patience, wisdom, purity, justice, mercy, power, and
truth of God, with the reasons and depths of them, were manifested in and
by Christ, as well as the nature and excellency of God.
1. The_patience of God. We see the patience of God, as the first attribute,

chabnock's woeks. [John XVII. 3.
^°^g to our view after the transgression of man, and the interposition of
^iKst. When Christ stepped out of the councU of God, forbearance with a
jSlIen world stepped out to meet him. This is the reason why he did not
dash the world in pieces upon the sin of the first man, and raise another that
should keep his law. Nothing of this glorious perfection had then been
visible. This is the reason why, after forbearance with the first man, and
after multiplied provocations by his posterity, he did not destroy the whole
race of mankind, and turn a defaced world into flames, and make it smoke by the
fire of his justice, as well as he had reared and preserved it by the arm ofhis
power. He had not then manifested thelongsuffering, the unwearied duration of
thia attribute, nor answered the end of hia patience, which was a discovery
of himself in his Son. By this we come to know why we were not made a '
prey to the just wrath of God and the fury of devils ; why the divine revenge
was held back so many ages ; why he ' winked at the times of ignorance'
and corruption, Acts xvii. SO, 81 : even because he had appointed a man to
judge the world, whom he would first send to save the world ; why he suffered
all nations to walk in their own ways, yet left them not without witness in the
dispensations of hia providence, viz., that in time he might be known ia his
Son to be ' the living God which made heaven and earth,' Acts xiv. 15-17.
He exercised his patience upon this account, and would not take the for
feiture, in expectation of the fulness of time wherein his Son should be mani
fested to make up the breach, and the glorious design of his patience
manifested in him. For the great ground of it was the discovery of his name,
his loving-kindness in Jesus Christ : Isa. xlviii. 9, ' For my name's sake
will I defer mine anger, and for my praise will I refrain for thee that I cut
thee not off.' And he bore with an infinite patience the affront of Jews and
Gentiles, till the time came that his Son should be ' set out to be a propi
tiation fbr the remission of sins that were past, through the forbearance of
God,' Rom. iii. 25. He discovered his patience in not pouring down upon
every great sin destroying judgments ; not for want of justice in himself or
lowness of disposition, but for the demonstration of his justice and loving-
kindness together in the sacrifice of his Son, wherein he intended to repre
sent himself in a glorious manner to the world. His kindness was the end
of his forbearance. He supported himself under the indignitiea of men, and
deferred the time of the oblation of this sacrifice, that this attribute might be
known, and that he might have a more glorious foundation for the display
of hia pardoning mercy, which he intended ahould follow after, and might
bring forth his grace in its glory to take away the guilt of men's sins, upon
the return of men to him, after the bearing with so many oppositions : 2 Peter
iii. 9, He is ' longsuffering to us, not willing that we should perish.' It is
highly discovered also, since the coming of Chriat, that notwithatanding those
repeated indignities offered to his Son by contempt and unbelief, and to him
self in his Son, yet he keeps the world standing till he hath gathered in the
objects ofhis eternal grace, and completed his family in his Son, whereby he
hath rendered hia long-suffering more clear and admirable than if he had
sustained the rejection of millions of more propheta than ever yet were put
to death oi persecuted by the unbeliering world.
2. His love, and goodness, and pardoning mercy. John xiv. 6, 7, ' I am.
the way, the truth, and the life ; no man comes to the Father but by me.
If you had known me, you should have known my Father also ; and from
henceforth you know him and have seen him.' As I am the way of access
to the Father, so I am the medium of the manifestation of the Father : if
you know me, my love and my heart toward you, you cannot but know my
Father's heart and lovetoo. Though man fell from his finite goodness, and

John XVII. 3.] the knowledge of god in cheist. 141
duty to God, yet it is manifeat in Christ that the infinite Creator could not
fall from his infinite tenderness. If the manifestation of his goodness was
his end in bringing forth the creaturea, it was much more hia end in bringing
forth his Son.
(1.) Thia the creation did not discover. Man might know that God was
bountiful in filling his heart with food and gladness by the creatures, but
did not understand anything of pardoning mercy in God, if sin should enter
upon the world. Had the creation had any inscription of forgiving grace upon
it, why do we not find some supplications for it from the mouth of Adam after
the fall ? Do we not find his heart as naked of any thoughts of this nature,
as he was of his original righteousness ? He was seized with an horror of
conscience after his sin, but not a groan for pardon ; for how could it enter
into the heart of Adam but by revelation ? The law given him at his creation
apake not a syllable of it ; the voice of that was nothing but death, death :
Gen. ii. 17, 'Thou shalt surely die.' Nothing else could be expected by him
upon his eating the forbidden fruit, nor could he have the least sentiment of
remission till the pronouncing the promise of Christ in the aeed of the woman.
The manifestation of Christ in the beginning of the book waa the firat notice
of any such perfection in the nature of God. That same moment of time
when Chriat was given, wrapt up in a promise, did pardoning grace sparkle
out, and not any time before.
In the law which God gave Adam for the rule of obedience, there waa no
thing but strict justice ; and upon God's first inquiry after Adam, there was
no proclamation of pardon by God, nor expectation of it by Adam, but an
examination of matter of fact : ' Hast thou eaten of the tree whereof I com
manded thee that thou shouldst not eat ?' Gen. iii. 11, 12 ; nor any offer of
Adam falling upon his knees and imploring mercy; but standing upon his
justification, wiping off the dirt from himself to discharge it wholly upon his
wife. The treasures of this were ao closely locked up in God, that Adam,
just stepped out of a happy condition (who, though he had lost his righteous
ness, had not lost his knowledge and memory, as appears by his answer to
God, of what had been done before his fall, and in the time of his fall yet),
could not in the least imagine any mercy ; and therefore the wittiest and most
refined natural knowledge in the heathen, less than Adam had, could not
have any sentiments of it barely from nature, without aome traditional
revelation at the least. This attribute could not possibly have exerted itself
without Christ. Power, wisdom, goodness, did shine in the creation, hohness
in the law of nature, justice in the punishment of fallen angela, and expulsion
of man out of paradise ; but this of forgiving mercy, if you respect the first
economy of things, could not be evidenced without Christ ; for, not to apeak
of the naturalneas of God's justice, whereby he could not, in regard of his
nature, pardon sin without a satisfaction, which ia very probable ; but only
that the word of threatening being past for the death of a sinner, a satis
faction was necessary for the truth of God, honour of the law, and recovery
of the creature, which could not have been performed by a mere creature,
therefore it was necessary some person above a creature should undertake it,
or else no such thing as pardoning grace, which is one of the greatest glories
of the Deity, could ever have been known either by angela or men, but had re
mained undiscovered in unfathomable depths, unknown even to the angels
in heaven, who know nothing of God but by the effects, because hia essence
is inaccessible to the understanding of any creature. As in Christ alone, and
in his blood, we have the purchase of ' redemption, even the forgiveness of
sin,' Col. i. 14, so in and by him alone we had the first discovery of it in
the promise, and a fuU declaration of it afterward. When he was set forth

142 chabnock's woeks. [John XVII. 3.
as a propitiation, it was not only to purchase our happiness, but to let into
our knowledge the righteous and gracious nature of God thereby : Rom. iii.
25, ' To declare his righteousness for the remission of sins ; to declare, I say,
at this time his righteousness, that he might be just, and a justifier ;' which
declaration was not made by nature and the creation.
(2.) This, then, was only discovered in and by Christ, both in the glory
of it to God, and the sweetness of it to us. *It was in Christ discovered to
be God's nature, and our life. God ia love, and the manifeatation of it to
us was in God's ' sending his only begotten Son into the world, that we
might live through him,' 1 John iv. 8, 9, that the dead world might hve
through him. Hereby he did not only declare himself placable, not only de
sirous to manifest a scanty goodness to the creature, but to shew that his
nature was enriched with the choicest love and grace, and his desire that it
should flow out in the highest manner through a mediator to the poUuted
and rebellious world, and be screwed up to the highest peg. In him God
opened his bowels, which lay secretly yearning, and ' brought life and im
mortahty ' for the creature ' to hght through the gospel,' 1 Tim. i. 10.
Both mercy and love were manifeated. Love ia a perfection of a higher
strain than mercy ; merey may be prevalent where love ia absent. Mercy
hath for its object a thing miserable ; love hath for its object a thing amiable ;
pardoning grace hath for its object a thing criminal. The .mercy of God is
manifested in the death of Christ for ua when we wallowed in misery ; the
pardoning grace of God is declared upon us as we are loaded with guilt ;
love is manifested in being well-pleaaed with ua in the beat beloved, after we
are made comely and amiable by him. Christ is the medium of the mani
festation of this. This was his main design, that hia grace might be dis
covered with an emphatical phrase : Eph. i. 6, ' To the praise of the glory
of hia grace,' i. e. by an Hebraism, h f- glorious grace, and be known in its
glory to n'en and angels in the height, breadth, length, and depth of it, that
he might communicate his Spirit, his heaven, himself to them ; to be in
them, and they in him ; to love them with auch a love as he loves his Son,
i. e. with such a love as he loves himself ; and all his other attributes were
employed in the design of glorifying thia. Wisdom contrives, truth designs
the sacrifice, juatice strikes, to render mercy and love triumphant. God
constituted this his principal glory, and, in g. manner, esteemed not all his
other virtuea, but as they were ordered to manifest this. Though he had
manifested several perfections in the creation, yet this was utterly unknown
to the world tUl he exposed his Son to death for them. The law manifested
him to be jnst, the gospel manifeated him to be juat, and a justifier. In the
law, he manifests the sovereignty of hia justice in punishment ; in the gospel,
he inflicts severe punishments upon his Son, the surety, and mercifully ab
solves the believing offender ; he is in Christ unveiled, and shines in the
condescensions of his love.
Discovered, First, In the freeness of it. His goodneas shined in the creation, but with
a weaker light. Goodness was communicated to nothing in bringing it into
being ; which nothing, as it had not merited that goodness, so it had not de
served the contrary. It had as little of demerit aa it had of merit. He
made his goodness break out then upon nothing, but, in Christ, upon things
worse than nothing. He manifested his goodness in giring life to man, but
without the expense of the blood of hia Son, and the loss of his life, by whom
he conferred the benefit of hfe upon sinners. What goodneaa he manifested
to man after hia creation, in giring him the other creaturea for hia serrice, -i
had not so beautiful a complexion aa his goodness in Christ. Then he

John X'Vii. a.j the knowledge op god in cheist. 143
gave creatures to him of the same mould with man himself, but in Christ he
gives man's creator to man ; his own Wiadom, whereby he created all things.
When he gave creatures to man at firat, he gave them to an holy, just,
righteous man, pure as he came out of the mint of God's power and holi
ness ; but he gives his Son to depraved man, who had affronted him, and
cast those rich endowments of his nature behind his back. He finds out a
way to glorify his mercy, when he might only have glorified his justice ;
takes rebels into his arms, who had merited the thunders of his anger ; and,
by an incomparable and unimagined kindness, gives his Son to save hia
enemiea, and adopts them for his children; and that by a free act of his
own, not being persuaded by any other : John iii. 16, ' He gave his only
begotten Son.' Also, in taking occasion from so great an evil as sin, to
manifest such an excess of love, as if the steams of dung and vapours from
mire and dirt should be an occaaion of the sun's emitting hia beams with
greater clearness and freedom. The heathens regarded God as severe ;
though they saw testimonies of his patience, they imagined the kindness he
shewed to them wrung from him by their sacrifices and cries, and purchased
by their services ; but they saw not the springs of kindness freely bubbling
up in his own breast. But in Christ we behold his compassions moving of
themselves, and working together till the whole design of love was brought
to perfection.
Secondly, In the tenderness of it. The gospel presents God in Christ
under more tender titles to man than either creation or law. In the one, it
was ' the Lord God ;' in the other, ' the mighty Lord,' ' the Lord of
hosts,' ' the terrible God ;' names and marks of grandeur, sovereignty, and
juatice. In the gospel, he assumes the title of Father, a name of kindness
and compaasion ; and is called in the New Testament more by that title of
Father than that of a Lord, as if hia sovereignty had been swaUowed up in
tenderness. This title of Father is ascribed to him in the Old Testament
more rarely ; once in regard of the deliverance of the Israehtes from Egypt,
as typical of the redemption by Christ : Deut. xxxii. 6, ' Is not he thy
Father that hath bought thee ? hath he not made thee and established
thee ?' and promised to be the familiar name whereby they should call
upon God in the times of the gospel : Jer. iii. 19, ' Thou shalt call me, my
Father, and shalt not turn away from me ;' as, indeed, the name Abba,
Father, is peculiar to the gospel, and the name wherewith we have access to
the throne of grace ; in giving, also, a new law founded upon better pro
mises, repealing the threatenings in regard of any force upon a believer, and
enjoining milder conditions than in the first covenant.
Thirdly, In the fulness of it, declared in the person of his Son. Rather
than he would lose the whole race of mankind, he would spare nothing, no,
not his best beloved, with whom though he were ever well pleased, yet he
muat suffer, that in him he might be well pleased with us. He advanced his
mercy over all the difficulties which lay in his way, and to magnify it, would
not spare his Son, that he might spare the sinner, but condemn him to
death for the redemption of a aervant. The immense goodness which ap
peara in heaven and earth, sun and moon, and motions of them, and in
every other creature, is nothing to the making him a creature by whom he
made the worlds. To make him, who was the brightness of his glory, be
come as vile as earth ; him who was God to be a man ; the Lord of life
to be the subject of death, whereby the souls of men sunk into the depths
of misery are made capable of deliverance and enjoyment of an happy
immortality, the possession of an heavenly paradise, a communion in glory
with himself, is a love infinitely above that goodness which appeared in the

144 ohaenock's woeks. [John XVII. 8.
creation ; and so magnificent, that if angels and men had millions of years
to busy their thoughts, they knew not how to imagine higher ; for it cannot
enter into the heart of men or angels to conceive the grandeurs of affec
tion and mercy which God hath not only prepared, but represented to our
view in Christ. He hath hereby evidenced that he was so far from envying
the happiness of man, as the devil had made Adam at first believe, that
he would rather advance it at the expense and cost of the blood of his
Son, and would give life more abundantly in Christ, John x. 10, in a
greater plenitude and longer duration, than Adam had by creation and his
own strength, or the patriarchs under the law. Here love spends itself in
the conquest of death and heU, which had dissolved the happiness of man ;
gives life a freedom from unrighteousness, the death of our innocent nature •
and from the severities and torments of justice, which is the death of our
persons. And whereas in creation he gave creatures to man, which are the
works of his hands, he givea now his Son to man, who is partaker of his
essence, and sends him to be put in the place of the sacrifices, whose throats
were cut under the law, and were unable to make an atonement for sin; and
not only to suffer for us, but to suffer as a curse and execrable thing in our
stead, Gal. iii. 13. If God had sent an angel, one of the excellent creatures
of heaven, to be clothed with our nature, and die in our stead, it had been
admirable goodness not to spare for us one of those sublime and excellent
creatures.* God had manifested a goodness, but had not been glorified by it in
the fruits of it, which we could never have enjoyed, because no creature could
pay a sufficient ransom for the sin of man. The ransom was to be infinite, but
angels were limited and finite creatures ; and if they had undertaken, they
must have suffered too infinitely, and never have emerged out of their misery.
Yet, supposing an angel could have redeemed us, this love, which is the
glory of his nature, had not appeared in ita riches by such a grant, because
the angels were formed of nothing, and were the works of his hands, but
were not of the essence of God. But herein his love appears in the choicest
dress, in that he sent one begotten of his substance, one with him, true God
with the Father, to whom the Father had communicated his nature. We
call not the works of an artificer his children, because they have not his
nature, though they are the products of his art and industry. Herein he
shows the lustre of his mercy, and that he is love indeed in his nature, as
weU as in his fruits, beyond the imagination of men and angels, and aU that
nature could instruct them in. His shooting his arrows into his Son rather
than lose the rebel, and engraving upon him the marks of his anger, is the
highest point his compaasion to us could mount to, and the higheat proof of
the treasures of love and pity in his heart for us.
(3.) This knowledge of God's love is most comfortable to the creature.
God is sweetened in Christ to our underatanding. He lays by his fury to
unveU his mercy, and sticks the sting of his justice in Christ, to receive us
into the bosom of his love. It is a strong consolation, that if God kept to
his own design, formed in hia breast from eternity, and discovered to the
world in Christ, to advance the riches of his grace, no penitent and beheving
sinner can despair, but rather have an argument that God will pardon him,
because it is suitable to the design he had from eternity, and the manifesta
tion of it in time. For why should he prepare all things for man's recovery
before man's fall, foreaeen by him, and decreed to be permitted ? Why
should he provide a medicine before the disease, a solder before the crack
and fix upon a certain way to pardon the rebels, before they had beings
wherewith to rebel, if he had no intention to apply it when they should have
* Mestrezat sur 1 John iv. 8, 9.

John XVII. S.j the knowledge op god in chbist. 145
the grace to believe it ? And is not this pardoning grace rather honoured
by the pardon of great sins and many sins, than by the pardon of few sins
and small sins ? Therefore, as he suffered sin to enter into the world, that
he might bring upon the stage his pardoning mercy, to the view and comfort
of the creature, which else had lain in the abyss of the divine essence with
out any opportunity of discovery, so he suffers men to go on in ain a long
time, that hia grace may enter upon their souls with the greater magnificence
and glory : ' The law entered, that sin might abound ; but where sin abounded,
grace did much more abound,' Rom. v. 20. Not, or not only, that law the
Jews had, but the first law to man in innocence ; not as fhe finis intentionis,
but the event in the fall of man and prescience of God. Men naturally
think God will not pardon their crimes, cannot have a kindness for such
notorious rebels, becauae their scanty natures are not capable of such a
quality towards grievous offenders againat themselves. But this declaration
of love in Christ takes away all scruples from men, brings forth his love
triumphing over all the objections of penitent souls, that heaven itself cannot
find a stronger medium to assure them of an immense plenitude of love in
the breast of God. The goodness of God ia therefore proposed aa an object
of trust (as it may be understood) in the day of the gospel, Hos. iii. 5, which
is a larger manifestation of his goodness than in the law, which was an object
of fear. They shall fear or trust in the Lord, or run with haste unto the
Lord and to his goodness, viz. Christ, in whom they taste the bounty and
goodness of God, and this in the latter days, when the shadowa of the law
shall fly away and have their period. And, indeed, when a poor deluded
sinner seea thoae treaaures of mercy in Christ, that ravishing love doth as
much surprise as delight him, so that, with an amazing comfort, he can cast
himself into the arms of that goodneas which are opened so vride in the Son
of hia love. So that here only was love in its willingness, grace in ita free
ness, mercy in its sweetness, goodness in its fulness of benefits, conspiring
together to set themaelves forth in their beat attire.
(3.) The vriadom of God ia admirably manifested herein. The sending
of Christ being so stupendous, the wisdom of God must be admirable in the
ends deaigned by it, which ahoota forth with clearer beams in his Son than
in the creation, in which regard Christ is called the wisdom of God : 1 Cor.
i. 24, ' Christ crucified, the wiadom of God,' i. e, the highest discovery of
his wisdom ia in the crucifixion of Christ, in the death of the Son of God
upon the cross. Wisdom shined in the creation, it glitters every day in
providence ; but the depths and riches of it are in Chriat. In those there
are some doles, aome leaser sums, but the treasures of it are hid in him, as
in the great exchequer. Here are the deep counsels of God, which the
apostle cannot speak of without a rarishing admiration : Rom. xi. 33, ' Oh
the depths of the riches both of the wisdom and knowledge of God !' 'A
manifold wiadom,' Eph. iii. 10, in regard of the variety of effects in the
glorifying his name, and dignifying his creature, in repairing the breach, and
establishing the repair. Wherefore the apostle, speaking of this great
mystery, breaks out into a doxology of the wisdom of God : Rom. xvi. 25-27,
' To God only wise, be glory through Jesus Christ for ever. Amen.' When
the creation was despoUed by sin, not a jot of goodness left in it to give God
any content, it was a greater wisdom to repair it without breaking it to pieces
than to have created a new one. The wisdom in a new creation had been
but of the aame level, but that in restoring waa of a higher elevation and a
clearer gloss. To bring his glory out of the ashes wherein it seemed to be
buried ; to bring man out of darkness wherein he was, as to his own strength,
VOL. IV. K

146 chabnock's woeks. [John XVII. 3.
irrecoverably involved ; to put heaven and earth in tune again, which sin
had made at discord with one another, was a high piece of skill. It ia an
admirable wisdom among men to unite two princes at variance, vrithout in
vading either of their rights, but entirely preserving them ; to link them in
a stronger peace than that they were in before they fell out ; to enlarge their
empire, not only to a mutual satisfaction, but the increase of both their gran
deur and glories. The case is the same : God repairs the breach between
himself and man, and preserves his right ; he loaeth nothing of his own
honour, but enlargeth it ; man is restored to favour with a temporary dimi
nution of his bodily happiness, but with an eternal increase of the felicities
both of his soul and body ; all seeming contradictions are removed, and
meana fully proportioned to the ends intended are appointed. In this regard
the apostle calls it ' all wisdom and prudence,' Eph. i. 8 ; wisdom drawing
the platform, and prudence disposing the means consonant to the end. The
work is done to the content of both, the glory of both, the rest of God, and
the happiness of the creature ; and the skill was more wonderful in repairing
the devastation in such an infalhble way, past the reach of the tempter that
defaced the first creation. Certainly that which shall be most admired at
last will be the harmony and consent of things, by the skill of infinite wisdom,
in conspiring together for the bringing about those ends God aimed at.
Wisdom takes large strides at every step.
[1.] In uniting the greatest extremes. In the creation God brought
nothing to become something. In this he joina together beings at a greater
distance. First, The divine and human naturea are united in one person. The
higheat intellectual nature, with the lowest rational nature, infinite and finite,
glory and misery, time and eternity.* Christ calls himself the Son of man,
to shew that he was really man in qualities, — John iii. 13, ' And no man
hath ascended up to heaven, but he that came down from heaven, even the
Son of man which is in heaven,' — yet saith he is in heaven, to manifest that he
is God ; man bom of the virgin, yet the Son of God eternally begotten, the
Word made flesh. God in heaven manifested in flesh upon the earth, each
preserving their entire properties ; the Son of man by this union is become
the Son of God, yet retains his pure and naked form as man ; the Word by
this union is made flesh, yet without losing hia infinity, eternity, and original
being ; as a man hath two parta, an immortal and inrisible soul, and a
mortal visible body. As a man, he passeth through infirmities ; as God, he
is above them.f The two natures are distinct, yet united in one subsistence,
and make but one person, aa the soul and body make one man. Yet not in
such a manner as that the divine nature is the form of the human, for then
Christ were not real man ; he waa ' in the form of God,' yet ' in the form
of a servant,' Philip, ii. 6, 7. Though there was no change in the dirinity,
yet the lustre of it was veiled by the infirmities of the flesh ; as when a thick
cloud interposeth between the body of the sun and our eyes, it obscures the
beama from our eyes, but defaceth not the body of the sun, or ravisheth its
inherent beauty. And thia union was made at the first conception ; | if it
had not been so, the rirgin had not conceived God, but a pure man, con
trary to Gal. iv. 4, ' God sent his Son, made of a woman.' If the humanity
was not at that instant united to the Xoyog, it did then subsist in its own
created person, and the conception was then terminated to a created person,
and in no sort to God ; and then it cannot be said that God was conceived
* Daille, sermon sur Jean iii. 13, p. 211.
t Daille, sermon sur Phil. ii. 7, 8, p, 411, &c.
I Suarez in tertiam Aquin. vol. xiii, diss, 16, sect. 1.

John XVII. 3.] the knowledge op god in chbist. 147
of the virgin. If the divinity did assume the humanity of that person after
the time when Christ died, and the humanity had not before been united to
the divine nature, his blood then shed could not have been said to be the
blood of God, though the dirinity should have assumed that humanity after
the resurrection. An unexpressible wiadom in the uniting, in an uncon
ceivable manner, two such vast distances, the divine and human nature in
one person, that there might be a sufficiency to perform the task undertaken,
and capacity to endure the suffering required to make up the breach ; to
unite one greater than a man to the human nature, that he might satisfy for
man, and have that in himself which might exceed all the debt man owed to
God ! He provided a divine person to satisfy a God offended, a mediator,
one with God that was wronged, and one with man that had sinned ; par
taking of the nature of both, that he might pay a price sufficient for the one,
and acceptable to the other. In the creation, one creature was united to
another, and all made up a world. In this, finite ia united to infinite, to
make up a complete and able mediator.
Secondly, The juatice and mercy of God are united in a joint applause.
He becomes merciful without being unjust, and just without impairing the
honour of his compassion. Justice hath the higheat right, and mercy its
utmost intention; the cries of his justice, and the yearnings of his bowels,
are united, without depriving either of their rights. No complaints can be
found in the mouth of the one, nor any discontent in the looks of the other,
but mutual smiles and mutual applauses. Just and justifier are joined in
one justice and justification, Rom. iii. 26. The world is preserved, which
in justice ought to be destroyed, without any reproach to the righteousness
of God, as the governor of it ; an eternal marriage is made between mercy
and justice ; both shake hands, and not only acquiesce but rejoice, for the
sin is punished by justice in the aurety, and pardoned by mercy in the
sinner ; both pleased and both gratified in seeing the honour of the law pre
served, and the guilt of the sinner removed.
Thirdly, In uniting God and man in eternal fellowship. By thia act he
bringa atubble to dwell with flamea, and weakneas to behold and enjoy glory
without being overwhelmed by the weight and splendour of it, to draw near
to the supreme majesty through the veil of the flesh of Christ. He causeth
pardon and punishment to meet, that God appeased, and man acquitted, may
come together. The punishment is inflicted upon the aurety, that the offender
might ahare in the glorious fruits ofhis mediation. God and man are brought
to amity, angels and men are made one family, and more grace given to fit
us for God than Adam lost. This was the point his wisdom aimed at, to
make ' the riches of grace abound towarda ua,' Ephea. i. 7, 8. And to add
to the wonder of his wiadom, God saves the sinner in the same way whereby
he condemned the sin, and| advanceth the offender to communion with him,
the same way whereby he shewed his detestation of the crime. Sin ia made
the mark of the divine displeasure in the person of Christ, swallowed up and
devoured by the flames of justice, that, the wall of separation being removed,
he might meet his creature with arms widened by the dearest love.
[2.] In effecting this restoration without the perpetual prejudice ofthe
mediator, and with hia great honour and advantage. Had our sins been
transferred upon an angel, he must have lain for ever plunged in that misery,
for since his nature was not infinite to render his satisfaction infinite, an in
finite duration of his sufferings waa necessary to make that satisfaction vahd,
which his nature being finite was too weak to do. But the Son of God
suffers a short time, to have an eternal glory for himself in his human nature
as well as for his brethren. A satisfaction for sin is procured without a total

148 chabnock's woeks. [John XVII. 3.
destructibn of the person satisfying ; for auch an one was designed by the in
finite wisdom of God, whom it was ' impossible for the bands of death to
hold,' Acts ii. 24. His death, the punishment of sin, is but of a short dura
tion in regard of the paina, yet eternal in regard of efficacy for those ends
for which it was intended ; God's glory is restored, man's happiness secured,
without a perpetual impairing the mediator, but with an eternal exaltation
of him. [?).] In frustrating the subtlety of Satan. The devU thought he had
brought a total destruction upon mankind, when he persuaded our first parents
to eat of the forbidden fruit. But God orders it to bring about a greater
glory to himself, and a firmer stability to his people, in introducing an ever
lasting covenant founded in a mediator, which could not be broken, and
establishing their happiness upon surer terms than it was settled on in para
dise, and afterwarda outwits the devil in ordering him to be instrumental to
that which he designed to hinder ; for whUe he ia fiUing the heart of Judas
to betray Christ, and egging the heart of the Jews to crucify him, God, by
hia wisdom, over-rules him to a subserviency to his own glorious end, for by
that very way he thought to stifle the good of mankind, he occasionally pro
motes their perpetual redemption. God turned the subtlety of the devil to
his own praise, bruised the devil's head by letting him bruise the mediator's
heel, and made his malice conduce to the restoration of mankind from that
ruin he had before by a prosperous aubtlety effected. God, by a mysterious
wisdom, more signal than all that in the creation, gained the victory over
the devil, who had defaced his work, and gave man also a victory over the
tempter, who had depraved his soul.
[4.] In the propagating this means of the discovery of himself The wis
dom as well as the power of God ia discovered in using the most unlikely
means to bring about his great ends, as the skill of a man is more erident in
the moving great bodies by small engines and wires, than if he engaged in
it a strength proportionable to the vastness of the body he would move.
God hath spread abroad this knowledge by such means as the world counts
foolishness, and by such persons as are no better than fools in their esteem,
1 Cor. i. 26, 27. He lodged his treasures of wisdom first in vessels of
earth, bended the world to himself by the sermons of fishermen, enlightened
the world by men unskilful in the affairs of it ; chooseth not to this purpose
the cedars of Lebanon, but the shrubs of the valley ; not the learned phari
sees of Jerusalem, but the poor men of Galilee, whose education was not
capable to ennoble their minds, and fit them for such great actions as they
were employed in. But ' out of the mouths of such babes and sucklings he
ordains praise ' to his own wisdom, and makes the world know that ' the
foolishness of God is wiser than men,' 1 Cor. i. 25. Now, what is the frame
of heaven and earth to this ? Just as his wisdom is in making a clod of
earth to that which appears in the fabric of a man, or his yet more glorious
wisdom in the frame of an angel. In the creation it is like a sunbeam
through the chink of a wall in comparison of this, which, hke the sun, faceth
ns in a brighter glory. There is counsel aa well as will in the minute pas
sages of providence, but amore glorious workmanship of wiadom in the dis
covery of Christ.
(4.) The justice of God is more evidenced than by all other judgments in
thia world, or that which is to come. God would be acknowledged in his
justice after the fall, which was not known, and could not be known, in an in
nocent state any other way than in the threatening ; God would therefore i
have bloody sacrifices which might signify man's demerit, and therefore, pro
bably, God was displeased with Cain for offering only the fruits of the earth, ,

John XVII. 3.] the knowledge op god in cheist. 149
whereby he only acknowledged God'a dominion and bounty, but not God's
justice and his own offence, which required a bloody sacrifice ; he did not
acknowledge the rights of justice and the necessity of a mediator to bear his
sin. Whence Abel, who offered a more significant sacrifice, is said, Heb.
xi. 4, to ' offer a more excellent sacrifice,' v'ktkva, Svslav. And his justice
was never so evident as in Chriat crucified ; he choae his Son to lay upon
him the guilt of the world, subjected him in the state of a criminal, depressed
him to the condition of a servant, sunk him into the misery of rebels, caused
him to swallow the disgraces of men, and drink down the vials of hia anger,
rather than the sin of the world should boast of impunity, and men presume
to think him disarmed of his justice. What if the whole world was drowned
by a wrathful deluge, Sodom and Gomorrah consumed to ashea by a shower
of fire? What if every son of Adam were to lie roaring in endless torments?
What if not an angel in heaven had escaped the sin and punishment of
devUs ? What if this world were multiplied into milliona, what if every man
upon earth, and every angel in heaven, were multiplied into thousands of
miUions of men and angela ? What if every apire of graas, grain of corn,
atom of sand, were made a rational creature, and for sin thrown for ever into
devouring flames ? Is not here inexpressible juatice ? But what is this jus
tice upon creatures which were made, to that justice upon his Son, by whom
he made the creatures ? What is this to the Son of God traihng a weak
body for thirty-three years in the world, suffering the indignities of men and
devils, bearing the weight of an infinite wrath ? What are aU other judg
ments to his bloody sweat in the garden, or the groans of this divine person
upon the cross, of more worth than innumerable worlds of creatures ? Who
ever knew before the power of God's wrath? Pa. xc. 11. For as there is
no proportion of creatures to God, ao there is no proportion of the death of
the Son of God for a time, to the death of all men and angels together.
Consider the circumstances to render the juatice of God more visible.
[1.] He was innocent in bia own person. He was beloved by hia Father,
had never displeased him ; the sins he suffered for were none of hia ow by
commission, he made them his own by a voluntary submission, and God
made them hia own by a penal infliction. God would have sin punished in
the peraon of our surety, though he was his only begotten and perfectly in
nocent Son.
[2.j He was willing to pay the debt. He offered himself up with a design
to glorify his Father, to restore the creation to its former loveliness, to renew
the delight that God had in his works when he pronounced them good, a
consideration which one would think might aweeten the aeverest justice ; yet
nothing abated him, he must groan and bleed to death.
[3.] Yet he endured sorrows unexpressible. The powers of darkness had
their hour against him, all the curses of the law were thundered out against
him, while he was clothed in the garb of a sinner, as if when he had been
leading to the cross, God had particularly spoken that word to him, ' Cursed
is he that hangs upon a tree,' Gal. iii. 13. He was condemned and tormented
by hia servants, and those whose salvation he sought and designed ; he was
subject to that which no man, no, not the wickedest man, had ever endured
in this life : the heavens were darkened upon him, earth forsaking him, none
seemed to have pity upon him ; ' terrors took hold upon him, and pursued
hia aoul aa the wind ; his soul was poured out in him, his bones were pierced,
and his sinews took no rest,' Job xxx. 15-17. He had an angel to comfort
him, but with no commission to remove the cup from him that his Father
held out for him to drink. What a demonstration of the justice of God is
here : that he in whom all nations of the earth were to be blessed, whom the

150 chabnock's wobks. [John XVII. 8.
angels in heaven bless, the saints on earth bless, yea, and ia the blessed of
his Father, yet is made a curse by him !
[4.] Deserted by hia Father. His prayers were not answered for deliver
ance, not the least ear lent to his cries in his weightiest distresses. He was
deserted as to the comforts of a Father, to be given up to the strokes of his
wrath, as if he had discarded all bowels of compassion towarda him. God
dealt not with him as a Father, but as a God of justice; whence Christ
upon the cross calls not upon God by the name of Father, which was his
wonted custom, and as he had used that title in the garden, but by the name
of God : ' My God, my God.' God became as it were cruel to him, and
' with atrong hands opposed himself against him,' Job xxx. 21. Nay, God
regarded him not, as if he were for a time ashamed to acknowledge him for
his Son. And when they taunted him upon the cross, ' He trusted in God,
let him deliver him, seeing he trusted in him,' though they reflected upon
the name and glory of God, he would not at present take notice of the suffer
ings of his own name in the reproaches of the Jews, nor remit upon that
score anything of his indignation against the sins of men, when it was the
fittest time to vindicate his Son's innocence, becauae for this he was con
demned, his making himself the Son of God. But he was so intent upon
revenging sin imputed to his Son, that he regarded not the present actual in
dignity offered to himself, so that our Saviour himself seems to be astonished
at his Father's silence in such a case, aince hia words, ' My God, my God,
why hast thou forsaken me ? ' are uttered a little after that reproach of the
Jews in the story. Mat. -xxvi. 43, 46. This was the highest act of justice
that the arm of God could put forth, to make the soul of his dearly beloved
an offering for sin, whereby he manifested that without blood there could he
no atonement, Heb. x. 7. And since no other blood had a sufficiency in it
to quench the flames of his justice, God would single out the beat blood in
the whole creation wherewith to satisfy it ; a blood though created, yet the
blood of the Creator. Never could earth or hell read such a lecture of divine
justice as in this case. For if God should damn thouaanda of worlds, his
justice would be glorified, but in a company of little creatures; it would be
but a devouring a few drops of a bucket.* But in Christ it is glorified in
the man that is his fellow, Zech. xiii. 7. It is a stronger testimony of a
prince's justice to condemn his son, his only son, for a crime, than to con
demn a shiftless and friendless creature that hath not wherewithal to live.
This doth manifest God's nature to be as just as it ia gracious, that he will
be as severely intent upon the puniahing obatinate offenders, as he will be
graciously intent upon the pardoning penitent sinners. It is equally in
credible to the presumptuous sinner to believe God severely just, as to an
humble soul to beheve God magnificently gracious. It ia not without cause
therefore that the apostle doth urge hia discourse of the juatice of God on
Chriat, and thereupon the justification of behevers, with a repetition : Rom.
iii. 25, ' To declare, to declare, I say, hia righteousness.' For in Christ we
see God doth declare as well the rigours of his justice as the grandeurs of his
love ; for that sin ahould not be pardoned without punishment in his Son,
is the height of justice ; that he should expose his Son as a sacrifice for
rebels, it is riches of grace. It is clear that justice in God is his essence,
not, as in ua, a quality; and that he is to sinners a consuming fire. The
knowledge of God, as thus represented in Christ, should stop the course of
a daring sinner. God had not contrived the death of hia Son but for the
declaring his justice as well as magnifying his grace. The knowledge of God
in his justice, on Christ is comfortable to a believer; and the more, since
* Gurnal, part ii. p- 658, somewhat changed.

John XVH. 3.] the knowledge of god in chbist. 151
that perfection of God which is most terrible ia rendered a foundation of joy,
for God is gracious in being righteous: Ps. cxvi. 5, ' Gracious ia the Lord,
and righteous; yea, our God is merciful.' Ifhe had not been righteous in
his Son, we cannot conceive how with honour he could have been merciful
to us. The severity of his justice on Christ glorifies the greatness of his
grace to the believer. By how much the punishment on Christ was the
sharper, by so much his mercy to the behever is the fuller. This vindictive
justice is joined with his pardoning mercy, Exod. xxxiv. ; becauae hia not
clearing the guilty iUustrates his pardoning the guilty upon the account of
the Surety. It is a foundation of a plea for every believer. The justice of
God. hath drunk up the blood of Christ as a fuU satisfaction; it is therefore
glorified in the highest manner, whereas in the damnation of men the debt
had been always paying and never paid ; and so justice had been always
satisfying and never satisfied, and so had been always glorifying and never
fully glorified. But here the debt is paid, and justice hath no more to
demand ; whereas in the other it would have been always receiving and
always demanding more, because the payment could never have amounted to
a full sum. In the punishment of creaturea, juatice would have had its due
by parcels, but in Christ it hath ita full demand; and thia may be pleaded
with God by a believer. This is the knowledge of God we have by Christ,
which is aa terrible to any impenitent as it is comfortable to a penitent
believer. (5.) The holiness of God is manifested by Christ. His justice is founded
in his holiness: 'The holy God is sanctified in righteousness,' Isa. v. 16.
His holiness is illustrated by hia juatice; he is exalted in judgment and sanc
tified in righteousness. Had not Christ died upon the cross, we had not had
a discovery of the ingratitude and baseness there was in the first sin against
God and in all that followed it ; nor could we have had so full a prospect of the
holiness and purity of God'a nature aa in the dreadful punishment of Christ
for sin, because sin never appeared in its blackest and bloodiest colours, and
nothing was ever able to shew ua the true tincture of sin comparably to the
blood of the Son of God. This perfection did sparkle in the commands of
the law, which he gave angels and men for the rule of their obedience. The
constancy of this hohness appeared in the renewing the law in tables of stone
to the Jews, adding thereunto the ceremonial law, made up of sacrifices of
beasts for the expiation of sin, as typical of a greater sacrifice, whereby he
would declare that he would never be pleased with iniquity. But this mani
festation was vrith a fainter light than in a crucified Christ. If ever sin
appeared odious, it was in the death of his Son. Here we see nothing but
frowns and displeaaurea against the breach of his righteous law, his destes-
tation of sin to be as great as his indignation, his hatred of it to be as infinite
as his wrath against it, both joining hand in hand together to declare the
contrariety between the beauty of the one and deformity of the other, strik
ing it to the heart, and condemning it for ever to that death and diaaolution
the greatneaa of the evil had merited, and pubhshing an irreconcUable enmity
to the filthiness and loathsomeness of it, shewing that he would rather have
his Son die than sin live. He never declared the heinousness of sin in itself,
and its hatefulness to himself, so much by all the vials of judgments poured
out upon the world, by all the flames and torments of hell, as by the humi
hation, groans, and sufferings of hia only Son. That was the hatred of sin
in the persons of his creatures, this his hatred of it in the person of the man
his fellow, bearing his indignation for ains never committed by him, wherein
he was both 'white and ruddy,' Cant. v. 10, an innocent and a sufferer; pure
in innocence and ruddy vrith blood. It was the intention of God to manifest

152 chabnock's wobks. [John XVIL 3.
his holiness and his justice in this affair. When he was accused — ^Mal.
ii. 17, ' Every one that doth evil is good in his sight ' — that he delighted in
evil men, and had atripped himself of his holiness and justice, and seemed
to countenance the wicked in hia providential diapenaations, the answer the
prophet by the Spirit of God givea to thia charge is, Mai. iii. 1, that the
Lord ahould come into his temple (a place approved to Christ in the Gospel),
whereby I shall make a full discovery that I neither delight in evil nor will
suffer it to go unpunished. And by righteousness which God declares in the
death of Christ, Rom. iii. 26, some understand the holineaa of God, which
ia evidenced hy his being just and a justifier. He ia first just, that he may,
with the honour of his holineaa and justice, justify the sinner beheving in
Christ, whence the great praises of God in the Revelations, aa well as in
Isaiah vi., a gospel rision, are for this perfection of holiness, Rev. iv. 8,
XV. 4. And herein the holiness of God may be considered with dehght,
which did before affright the sinner, and make him deplore the impossibility
of his own or any other's standing before so pure a majesty, 1 Sam. vi. 20.
It is not only discovered in Christ, but honoured ; and justice, the fruit of
it, being satisfied, both smile upon men capacitated by Christ to stand com
fortably before both of them. It is declared also in setting us so exact a
pattern as the holy of holies visibly for our imitation in all ways of humility,
self-denial, obedience, and love to God. The sum is this: Though God had
manifeated the'purity of his nature in his threatening annexed to the law,
and in the punishment of man after he had sinned, and in the law by the
sacrifices of beasts, yet these manifested God's hatred of sin very little in
comparison of the death of his Son. God being more willing to punish sin in
his Son than to leave it unpunished, shews an extreme hatred of iniquity.*
(6.) The veracity and truth of God is manifested in Christ. Christ ' gave
himself a ransom for all, to be testified in due time,' 1 Tim. ii. 6, rJ p,a,§-
ru^iov, for a testimony (it is a noun, not a verb) : a testimony not only
of his grace, and the abundant goodness of God in redemption, that he
would have all men to be saved, ver. 4, excluding none who have the condi
tions of faith and repentance ; but also a testimony of the truth of his first
promise, constituting him the only mediator as the seed of the woman. His
passion waa a testimony of the veracity of God in that promiae whereby it
waa accomplished. ' Grace and truth came by Jesus Christ,' John i. l7 ;
grace in regard of our pardon, truth in the regard of the promise. This
attribute was highly diacovered, in making good the promise of the seed of
the woman, after so many revolutions of time, weary expectations of his
coming, contrary appearances, a stay of four thousand years between the
promise and the performance ; whereby the faith of the ancient believer was
almost nonplussed, had not God supported it by a succession of prophetical
predictions, as assurances that he would make good his word ; all which
were to the utmost point fulfiUed in the death and resurrection of Christ.
His veracity, in the promises of assistance made to Christ in this great under
taking, which were the objects of our Saviour's confidence : laa. 1. 7, 9, ' The
Lord God will help me;' which were accomplished in bearing up the human
nature under such a sea and load of sufferings, making his arm bare rather than
hia truth should sink in the promises made either to his Son or his creatures.
Veracity in his threatenings ; he had declared in paradise his certain
resolution to punish the riolations of his law, which he could not recede
from, -without making a breach upon the hohneaa of the Deity. This threat
ening, which Satan had made man believe that God would falaify, he kept
up without any spot upon his trath, any breach of his word, and yet disap-
* Mestrezat in Heh. i, 3, pp. 98, 99.

John XVII. 8.] the knowledge of god in cheist. 158
pointed the devil of the great end he aimed at in his he. He makea in
Christ the threatenings of the law and the promises of the gospel kiss each
other ; both live comfortably together, and the honour of his truth is pre
served in both, which have contrary aspects, aa far distant as heaven and
earth, east and west in the furthest points, so that it was an impossibility in
the judgment of men, that God could be true to himself, and be merciful to
men, if he were immutably true to his threatening. God starts not one step
from his word, breaks not one tittle of hia righteous commination ; hia
threatenings are as certain aa they are dreadful, and rather than one iota of
them ahall pass away, or be accounted an empty word, or a copy of his
countenance, he will give up his Son for the breach of that law to which hia
sharp threatening waa annexed. Herein the immutability of God is declared
to be as great in his will aa in his nature. It is impossible for him to he, though
for the saving his Son from death ; which gives us such a representation of
God in the infallibility of his promises, as affords us a strong consolation,
Heb. vi. 17, 18. The soul that knows Christ cannot but without scruple
rest upon his word, and think nothing more becoming him than to credit
God, who hath been punctual in keeping his word, though the relation of a
Son, the miseries to be endured by this Son of his love, and also the yearn
ings of his bowels, atood in the way to move him to a breach of hia word,
had it been possible ; and since God hath not the same reason to fall back
from this word of promiae (which ia a demonatration of his goodness natural
to him), aa he seema to have had to fall back firom that wherein his justice,
his strange work was to be manifeated, the soul ia carried out to a reliance
on him beyond any rational possibility of a doubt. If ever he would have
denied himaelf, it would have been in the case of his Son, whose prayer for
the passing away of the cup could not make him alter one tittle of what had
passed from his lips. When his own glory in the good of his creature was
concerned, he could not deny himself, 1 Tim. ii. 13 ; no, nor in the con
cerns of his Son. He hath hereby declared, that if he be wanting to hia
faithfulness, he would 'be wanting to his nature ; and to break his word,
would,be to deny his deity ; which is such a discovery of God, as dreadful
to an impenitent, as delightful to a believer; for he hath manifested his
truth to be as much his nature, as hia holineaa, grace, and justice.
(7.) The power of God is manifested in Christ. Hence Chriat is called
' the power of God,' as well as ' the wisdom of God,' 1 Cor. i. 24. Not only
in the fruits of the gospel upon the hearts of men, but in his office, wherein
was manifested the power of God in redeeming the world. It was in him
God tore up the foundations of the devil's empire, disarmed all the curses of
the law, overthrew the false conceits of the world, knocked off the fetters of
their captivity, demolished the power of death, snatched souls from the flames
of hell, unbarred the gates of heaven, prepared everlasting mansions, ' laid
his beams in the waters,' the foundations of an happy eternity in the misery,
afflictions, death, blood of hia only Son. He restored man to glory by
weakness, to wisdom by foolishness ; he made the law lose its sting in the
sides of him whom it struck, took away our captivity by misery, flung death
to the ground by death, quenched hell by ita own flames, opened heaven by
a cross, cemented an everlasting habitation by blood, and condemned sin
by a sacrifice for it. By a crucified man, and a weak flesh encompassed
with infirmity, the God of heaven subdues the god of the world, destroys
the empire of the proud spirits, and subdues principalities and powers under
hia feet, who besides their usurped authority had a vast ambition to preaerve
it, and a strength and subtlety unconquerable by the power of man ; and
hereby shews, that no evU was so great but his almighty arm could put in

154 ohaenock's woeks. [John XVII. 3.
execution, what his immense wisdom had provided aa a remedy againat it.
By hia atrength he gives a being to his own word and promise, when neither
angels nor man could conceive the methods of the execution, even after the
promise of bruising Satan by the aeed of the woman was declared. It is
seen in raising Christ from the dead, after he had sustained the weight of
the sin of the world upon him, and bringing him forth with success and
glory, after that great encounter with the powers of hell ; which power is
called ' the glory of the Father :' Rom. vi. 4, ' As Christ was raised up from
the dead, by the glory of the Father,' dm bo^ni ; by the glory of the Father,
as noting the efficient cause, or to the glory of the Father, as noting the
final cause, being for the glory of God's power. In powerfully raising a
church to him from the seed of his blood, in spite of all spiritual and secular
enemies, defending it and supporting it under the most terrible waves of the
world, that he might be acknowledged, adored, and praised in this world,
and that which is to come. The power of God is not ao manifest in laying
the foundation of the earth, stretching out the heavena, turning the wheel of
providence, aa in this, which ia the topstone of all his providences in the world,
to which they tend, and wherein they centre. ' Twice we have heard that
power belongs to God,' Ps. lxii. 11,12. ' Also unto thee, 0 Lord, belongs
mercy.' Once we have heard of it in creation ; more gloriously in the work
of redemption, wherein hia power and hia grace were linked together, as weU
aa in creation his power and his goodness. And this is a comfortable ma
nifestation of God, his power is as great as hia mercy, and they join hands
together. Hia power is known in Christ to be able to save ua without giring
his enemies any ground to reproach him ; and his mercy is made known,
whereby he is willing to save ua.
Use. If the true and saving knowledge of God is only in and by Jesus
Christ, it will afford us matter for our,
I. Information, and it informs us,
1. Of the insufficiency of reason without revelation. Though there be
some relics of the law of nature, like Seth'a piUars, atanding in the heart,
the mind of man paved with aome broken piecea of the tablea of the law,
yet among all those fragments there is not one that hath the inscription of
Christ the mediator upon it. Nature never preached the doctrine of a
Saviour, and the necessity of faith ; and therefore by all the endowments of
nature the soul cannot be informed of the true nature of God. Mere reason
in innocency waa never a key fitted to all the wards of divine mysteries.
The beauty of God is not discerned in the same way aa we discern the beauty
of nature. Reason, though it be ' the candle of the Lord,' Prov. xx. 27, yet
it is but a candle, and can no more discover the nature of God as he is to
be known in Christ, than a candle can help ua to aee the aun when it is
masked by a thick cloud. We cannot comprehend what ia revealed of God
in the creature, much less can we arrive to that by our own reason, which
no creature under heaven, nor in heaven, of the highest endowments, can
make known to us without a revelation from God. Rfeson presents us but
with some dark shadows or notions of God only.
(1.) Reason is blind in the things of God. Can we render a satisfactory
reason of anything under our feet, and thoroughly nncipher the characters of
nature ? How can we then unlock the cabinet of God ? If we understand
not what is below ua, how can we understand what is above us ? If we
could picture the soul of man in his lapsed state, it must be painted without
eyes, covered with a thick mist, more crooked in his will and affections than
anything can be misshapen and monstrous under the heavens. A clear-eyed

John XVII. 3.] the knowledge of god in chbist. 155
reason ean only be in an uncorrapted soul. Never speak of right reason in
the things of God without a supernatural illumination, and the guidance of
revelation, till you can shew a soul free from all manner of corruption, as
white as snow, and as innocent as a standing angel. Since the fall there
is as httle of pure reaaon in our minda, as there is of an exact holiness in
our wUl, and the Spirit is as necessary to enlighten the one as to incline the
other, the one being as full of prejudices and mistaken principles as the
other of corrupt and perverse habits. Hence man is repreaented in Scrip
ture, Eph. iv. 17-19, with a mind as vain as hia will is crooked, an under
standing as much darkened towards God aa his will^is alienated from the
life of God, as great a blindness of heart as there is madness of affection,
and therefore the apostle gives it no better a title than darkness, Eph. v. 8,
comprehending thereby the race of all mankind naturally. And what can
better express the deplorable nature of the mind and reason, which so many
men are proud of, than darkness, the horror of the world, the cloud to the
beauty of it, the distracter of the fancy, and the spring of fears ? It is by
darkness we are blinded from seeing the comeliness of things in the world ;
it ia in darkness we have the most affrighting fancies ; and such a dismal
thing is man fallen, without any power to open his own eyes, without any
more ability to become light in the Lord than darkness hath to change itself
into the light of the sun. Man ia said to have no more understanding in
regard of the spiritual things of God than a beast, Ps. xlix. 20. Not a man
as considered in Adam, and upon that root, that understands God, Rom.
iii. 17. He is blind as to the object which he was created to know and
contemplate. The world, by all ' the wisdom of God' discovered in the
creation, ' knew not God,' 1 Cor. i. 21. By all thoae thinga wherein the
wiadom of God appeared in creation and providence, in regard of the order,
harmony, beauty, and effects of them, the world, with all their reaaona and
speculations, were ignorant of God. All worldly vrisdom cannot remove that
darkness which is upon the underatanding as to heavenly things ; for the
corruption like smoke rising up still from the furnace of that hell in the
heart, darkens the heavena from our sight, and it is as impossible that we
should know God while our corruption remains in its full force, aa that an
eye, bemiated by an uninterrupted aucceasion of thick vapours from other
parta of the body, can clearly behold any object. Peter, whose eyes were
something opened, thought he had great reason to dissuade Christ from suf
fering, but his Master sharply rebukes him, and tells him he did not ' savour
the things of God,' Mat. xvi. 28, he understood not the nature and design
of God. The blindness of reason is seen, by considering that most of the
reason we have in the world is the fruit of education. What a miserable
thing would a man be, if he were bred up among beasts in a desert ! What
a stupid statue of a man would he be, rather than a man ! There is no
knowledge of God, man since the fall can lay claim to by his own reason,
without some common illumination. We know nothing of God by the
creatures, but as God spreads an inward light upon the mind. In nature
there is a manifeatation in us, as well as a manifestation to us, Rom. i. 19,
yet it is a common Ulumination.
(2.) Reason is uncertain. It is a wandering vagabond, coins lies, and
reports falsities as truths. Is it not more often deceived in things of a
divine concern which are above our natural capacity, than the aense is in
sensible objects, which often mistakes things because of their distance ? Is
not the whole scene of nature troubled with janglings and controversies ?
What knowledge is there in the world that is not perplexed with a thousand
doubts ? Is not that interest, education, and often passion, which we call

156 chabnock's woeks. [John XVII. 3.
reason ? Are not our minds often seduced by our humours, and drawn
aside by a faction of pasaiona ? How can that mind which is swayed by the
bestial part of man frame right notions of God ? Do the beasts that perish
underatand him ? And man is no better since the fall. Is the knowledge
of God bred and nourished by fiesh and blood ? Some of the heathens were
ao senaible of this uncertainty, that they counted it their only knowledge,
that they knew nothing as they ought to know ; and some of them believed
that God from heaven could only be the revealer of truth. So much are
men's thoughts entangled in divine things.
(3.) Reason in a natural man is an enemy to the knowledge of God in
Christ. It receives not the light that shines upon it, John i. 5. It offers a
strong resistance, it reflects it back, as a atone waU doth the beams of the
sun, without suffering the light to pierce into any part of it. It is from
hence the gospel hath not the same advantage upon men, as things of a
moral concern, which are written in the law and have a counterpart in the
remainders of the law of nature in the heart of a man. But the gospel finds
nothing of kin to it in the soul, but rather principles that oppose it ; the
mysteries of Christ, wherein the grace, juatice, wiadom of God are diacovered,
seem foolishness to a natural mind. It seems to them a foUy to imagine,
that God should put his Son to death for the demonatration of hia justice,
that man should be justified by his blood ; and upon this account it is that
the apostle saith, 1 Cor. ii. 14, that ' a natural man receives not the things
of the Spirit of God, for they are foohshness unto him.' He doth not say
a carnal man, but an animal, a soully man ; he doth not speak of one led by
the affections of the flesh, but those wise men that are led by flashy reason,
and by the common estimated wisdom and principlea of the world, and order
their lives according to the rational dictatea of the world ; such an one
' receives not the things of the Spirit of God,' he doth not say receives not
the things of God, for he knows something of God ; but not the things of
the Spirit of God, i, e. he knows not God evangehcally, embraceth not,
apprehends not, affects not, the knowledge of God in Christ in the gospel
spirit. The reason is, because ' they are foohshness to him.' If the apostle
meant a man wallowing in sensual pleasures, and conducted by his bestial
appetite, he might rather say, Such an one receives them not because they
savour of wisdom, because they are against the pleasures of the flesh, than
because he accounts them foolish ; but he is one given to the study of
wisdom, and disaffecta them, because he thinks them contrary to that which
he thinka wisdom, to that which hath prepossessed hia mind. No sensual
man in the world can in his own judgment and conscience disapprove of things
morally good, and known so by the common light of nature aa foolish ; but
such an one rejects and hates the knowledge of God in the gospel ; for as
a rich man hates nothing more than poverty, a sensual man nothing more
than a seriousness and sobriety of life, so a wise man hates nothing more
than that which he thinks to be folly. With what contempt did the
Athenians reject the doctrine Paul preached to them, under no civiller a title
than that of babbling ! Acta xrii. 18. Carnal reason is the most furious
beast in the world. A natural wise man is too lofty to know God in divine
methods, who is best discerned in a way of humility and self-denial. And
at the best, the notions of God, by the representations of reason without
Christ, lose much of their majesty, beauty, and commanding power over the
hearts of men, they are weak and faint, for it is a represention by a declining
and disproportioned light.
From what has been said in this case, it follows,
(1.) That there is a necessity of revelation and iUumination. There i

John XVII. 3.] the knowledge op god in cheist. 157
must be first an external revelation of the object ; and secondly, an internal
Ulumination of the faculty. There is a word of revelation, which is the
gospel revealed to the understandings of men ; there is a Spirit of revelation
requisite besides, which the apostle begs for the Ephesians, who had the
object already revealed to them, that their understandings might be further
enlightened, Eph. i. 17 ; so that the further understanding of God and his
mysteries in the goapel, after the first Ulumination, is not a work of the bare
reason and understanding of man, without further operations of the Spirit
in and upon them.
Suppose that the light of reason were come to that point, to know "that
our chief good consisted in communion with God,* yet no man could know
that God was of such a gracious and condescending nature, and were willing
to communicate himself in the choicest manner, since man was a sinner and
had incurred his wrath and malediction, without some dirine revelation
which must discover God to be of such an encouraging nature.
(2.) We ought to submit our reason to revelation. God doth not give us
reason to quarrel with, but to discern and entertain divine revelation. He
hath given us reason to examine revelations, whether they bear a divine
stamp upon them. He hath not therefore imposed things upon men without
undeniable characters of their divine authority. Whataoever hath been
revealed which reason could not of itaelf reach, haa been attended with
miracles which could not be wrought by any created power, and bore the
marks of omnipotency upon them. We have not reason to comprehend all
the parta of divine revelation, shall we therefore deny it to be from God ?
Adam, and the angels, too, in heaven, may with as much reason tum atheists
because they cannot comprehend God. Some truths revealed may, if not
be formaUy demonstrated by reaaon, yet receive aome clearness and evidence
from it after they are revealed. But as Adam had, and the angels have,
clear reason to prove to themselves, and experience too, that there is a God,
though they cannot fathom the infinite depths of hia nature ; so there is
clear reason to manifest the Scripture which gives us a declaration of Christ
to be the revelation of God, though we cannot grasp all the parts of that
divine revelation, and make every thesis therein clear to a natural reason.
There are such arguments for it that contradicting ingenious reason cannot
but be startled at. We ought therefore to submit our reaaoninga to God's
declaration. The rational creature was made to serve God. His reason,
then, ought to be held in the rank of a servant ; the light of reason ought
to veil to the author of reason, and the light in the mind ought to veil to
him who enlightened it when man came into the world. Reaaon ought to
follow faith, not precede it. The stars borrow their light from the sun, not
the sun from the stars. Reason, indeed, may come in with an auxiliary
force after a revelation ia made, for the maintaining the truth of it, and
clearing it up to the minds of others, and may be a servant to revelation
now under Christ, as well as it should have been to any revelation in the
state of innocence. We ought therefore to submit our reason to God, not
think to mate him in knowledge any more than we can in majesty and
infiniteness, nor set up a spark to vie with the sun. Pride put out Adam's
eye at first ; and the pride of reaaon cherished will continue us aa blind as
beetlea in the things of a heavenly concern.
2. Information. The excellency of the gospel and Chriatian religion.
The Christian religion is a perspective wherewith to look to heaven, it
preaenta us with that knowledge of God which neither all the angels in
heaven, nor creaturea upon earth, were ever able without Christ to convey
* Mestrezat.

153 chabnock's woeks. [John XVII. 3.
to us. Christ's being the image of God is a reason why the gospel ia so
glorioua, 2 Cor. iv. 4, 1 Tim. i. 11. It ia called 'the glorioua goapel of
the blessed God,' wherein the glory of God's perfection shines forth, because
in that Christ ia made known to ua, and in him the beauty of God is dis
played to our view. The knowledge of God in nature was in darkness, in the
law it was in shadowa, in the gospel it is in light. In nature it was a light
aa at midnight, under the law as in the dawning, in the gospel as at sun- rising;
for by reason the knowledge was by candle-light, in the law by torch-light,
in the gospel by a sunbeam. The doctrine of the Trinity, obscurely delivered
in the Old Testament, is more cleared up since the coming of the Messiah, which
could never have been found out by reason, nor yet can be demonstrated by
reason, though it be capable to furnish us with some illustrations of it.
The heathens disputed about God, and the Christians know him. It answers
the ends of all rehgion. Religion respects God ; it must have the know
ledge of God therefore for a foundation. If it hath not the right knowledge
of God, it is superstition. All true religion conduceth to the creature's duty
and happiness ; our duty and happiness is to know and love God. This
religion only givea us a knowledge of God honourable to him, and presents
us with inducements to love him comfortable to ourselves ; and whatsoever
makea God known to man in his own glory, and for man's comfort, is cer
tainly in reason the most excellent religion. Whatsoever renders God
venerable and amiable to the minds of men is true ; for it cannot be sup
posed that infinite goodnees should create the world, and communicate
itself with a design to be hated and contemned by his creatures, but to be
feared and loved. Whatsoever therefore doth present God in the richest
atreama of goodneas to the creature, with honour to himaelf, hath truth for
the foundation of it.
(1.) This religion represents God with honour. It renders God as just
as merciful, and as merciful as just. It sets forth the riches of the one
without darkening the glory of the other. It presents God in the depths of
hia wisdom, heights of his love, equity of his justice, stabihty of his truth,
beauty of hia holiness, wonders of his patience, and glory of his power,
without offering violence to any principle of reason. The gospel is most
divine in the articles to be believed of God, most magnificent in its pro
mises, unquestionably holy and advantageous to the world in its precepts.
It unveils a God to encourage to duty, and twists our duty with God's
honour. What can be more reasonable ? or how can the creature honour
God more than to fear his justice, trust in his goodness, turn to him because
of his mercy, depend upon his truth, and glorify his grace, accept of a
righteousness from him, and be freed from guilt by him ? It puUs the
creature from itself to make it all in and by God. It bringa God to the
atate of a God, and the creature to a creature's poature ; it sets God upon
his throne and the creature at his feet, exalts heaven and depresseth earth.
It shews us that God is all our repose, that our reat and felicity ia to love
him. Tt shews us the unreasonableness and folly of our natural conceits of
God. It discourages everything that hinders us from a conjunction with
him ; instructs us to abhor everything that made our separation from him,
to embrace everything that may further our return to him, and renders man
incapable of any centre, any end by himself, any repose but in him. Where
is God set out more illuatriously, and with greater incitements to love him ?
Since his love to man hath reached the highest point, what is wanting to
heat us, what is wanting to infiame ua ? But do we not disgrace this hon
ourable religion by not elevating our soula to God, having hearts as c( Id as
ice, and like salamanders, that cannot burn in the midst of such a fire ?

John XVII. 3.] the knowledge of god in cheist. ] 59
(2.) It represents God with unspeakable comfort to the creature. The
first notions of God in the goapel flash like lightning with comfort upon the
disconsolate aoul. He discovers himself as a Father of mercy, because the
Father of Christ ; as a God of tenderness and consolation ; as a God that
would enter into the heart vrith all his sweetness if we would but open •
would spread his wings over our souls and dwell in the midst of us, unite ns
in eternal bands to himself He sends to us ' the express image of hia
person,' Heb. i. 3, one of hia own nature to take ours, that we may freely
converae with him in that image, which we could not immediately with God
because of the distance of our nature. A communion between man and a
creature of different nature is hard ; man cannot converse with an angel or
a beast, much less with God. But the Godhead holds out his hand in the
humanity of Chriat, to take us by the hand and lead na into his chambers.
In Chriat, God condescends to shew his face to the creatnire, whereby he
renders his nature amiable, and the believing creature comfortable. There
is such a knowledge of God in it as can comfort a man upon a deathbed,
appease his conscience, direct his eye to a delightful sight of another world,
make him embrace death with joy ; such advantages as the knowledge of
God, in the whole book of nature, all political skill, and the choicest specu
lations, cannot afford a man. These things delight him at present, help
him to pass his life with some content, but are unable to administer the
least cordial dram at a dying hour. In other religions we may know some
thing of God, little of our own misery, nothing of a remedy ; but in the
goapel we know God, ourselves, our misery, and our medicine. We see a
God fit to be trusted by us, one that hath given the greatest evidence of his
care of the world. No stronger testimony can be given than his sending
his Son to declare it ; acting so about his Son, and in his Son. Who can
question the providence of God, and his taking care of human affairs ? Who
can dispute the tenderness of his bowels, when he hath writ his care and
compasaiona in the blood of his only begotten ?
1^ (3.) The knowledge of God in Christ hath in the gospel been mighty suc
cessful. Whatsoever discovery of God was among the heathens before the
manifestation of Christ- did soon veil to that which was discovered by him.
The idols fell down at his feet, Dagon gave way to the ark, and that which
was limited to the Jewish nation extended itself to the utmost bounds of the
earth, and brought people to the acknowledgment of one God in his glory
and sovereignty, as it had been predicted : Zech. xiv. 9, ' And the Lord
shall be king over all the earth ; in that day shall there be one Lord, and his
name one.' The mountain of the Lord's house was hfted up above aU the
idolatrous mountains, and the whole frame of idolatry the devil had erected
and preserved so many ages in the world against the traditions left by Adam
waa demolished ; and so much hath God been discovered in his truth, that
not one of those heathen idols, so much famed in their writers, ia acknow
ledged for a god in any part of the world. In the eastern parta, indeed, they
have some idola where the Christian religion is expired, but the names of
Jupiter, Apollo, &c., are wholly buried among those nations that before adored
them, and scarce any part of the world that we know of doth acknowledge
now a multiphcity of gods. The discovery of Christ hath been the cause of
thia. The Turks, who acknowledge Mahomet for a prophet, yet acknowledge
him not for a god. The true God, that had been cast out of the world by the
subtlety of the devil, and had confined himself in his worship to the small spot
of Judea, is restored by Christ to the knowledge of men, and to a worship due
to him, and the adored idols sunk at the foot of the cross. The knowledge of
God covered the earth in respect of plenty and abundance, as the waters cover

160 chabnock's wobks. [John XVII. 3.
the sea; superstition was demolished, and errors about God dispersed. Hath
not, then, the gospel and the Christian r^igion the greateat trophies ? Can
anything claim an equal honour with it ? Is there any rehgion in the world
whereby God hath been so fuUy discovered, restored to his right, to that right
which the common reason of the world must acknowledge due to God ? It
hath defaced no notions of God which were according to true reaaon, but
cleared them, given us the reasons of those proceedings of God, obscure
before, and added a worthy and satisfactory account of God, which innocent
reason could not reach, and the most corrupted reason hath no firm ground
to quarrel with ; all which cannot be ascribed to any other profession in the
world but the Christian. This ia the glory of the gospel, this ia the fruit of
our Saviour Jesus Christ.
3. Information. How inexcusable ia the ignorance of God in them that
hear ao often ! God waa but faintly discovered ui the creatures, in the
Jewish time was obscured by shadowa, but that which waa a mystery in for
mer ages is clearly revealed, so that there is now no mysteriousness in the
nature of God, so far as to hinder our direction to a happy enjoyment of
him. The things of God are as plain aa the sun, so that whatsoever ignorance
there is of him under the preaching of the gospel is not invincible, but affected.
Every man under the gospel may be greater in point of knowledge than John
the Baptist. Shall any man behold the beama of the sun every day, and not
cast hia eyes up to see that body from whence they shoot ? With what face
can we call ourselves Christians, if we have no desire to know God as revealed
in Christ ? Shall we worship a God we know not ? Are we created by God
and preserved by God, yet are content to be wilfully ignorant of him, to whom
we owe our being and preservation ? Can we pretend any affections to him
whom we desire not to understand ? A worse charge will be brought against, .
and a sharper punishment inflicted on, such, than upon the heathens, who
were ' given up to a reprobate mind,' because they ' liked not to retain God
in their knowledge,' Rom. i. 28, when it waa a knowledge only by the dim
light of creatures. What do they deserve that will not embrace nor retain
the knowledge of God by a clearer light in Christ ? It was the end of the
whole creation to point us to God, Pa. xix. civ. ; it waa the end of the work
of redemption to bring ua to an acquaintance with God. By a wilful ignor
ance of God, we cross both the end of creation and redemption, and shght
God as our first maker, benefactor, and restorer. He that doth not know
God in Christ has no true knowledge of God absolutely, because it is no God
as conceived by him, and packed together of various inventions of his own ;
it is not a God according to Christ's revelationa, but his own imagination
and fancy.
II. Use of exhortation.
1. Let those that have the knowledge of God in Christ bless him for it.
The seventh day was appointed to bless God for the discovery of his good
ness and other perfections in the creation. The first day ia ordained wherein
we should bless God for the discovery of his perfections in redemption. The
' name of Christ' should be aa an ointment poured forth,' Cant. i. 3; we
should delight in the fragrancy, and praise him for the odours and savours
of it. The patriarchs had a knowledge of Christ, and therefore a knowledge
of God afar off, Heb. xi. 13 ; they saw the promises afar off (i. e. the pro
mises of the Messiah), obscure and dark : men have not a distinct sight of
the objects they see at a distance. What reason have we to render the praise
due to the name of God for bringing ua, as it were, to aee him face to face!
Christ bestows a bleasing upon such, which was denied to many prophets
and kinga, referring to the knowledge of the Father by hia revelation of him,

John XVII. 3.] the kvowledge of god in cheist. 161
Luke X. 22-24, as though the old believers saw nothing nor heard anything,
yet they that were pronounced blessed then had not seen Christ dying and
rising, and the coming of the Spirit, whereby the apostles had a clearer
knowledge of the nature of God. We have the full testimony of it in the
gospel. What blessing ahould we reflect back upon God, and how should
our hearts be fiUed with venerations of him! And where there is the know
ledge of God in Christ, it will be perfected in time in all the fruits of it. In
Christ, God is our God in covenant, to communicate himself to us in all
things we are capable of ;* as when the sun communicates itself to us, it is
to enlighten us with that light which it hath. When a knowing man com
municates himself to one ignorant, it is to give him part of his knowledge.
If creaturea communicate their goods according to their condition, God will
also render ua partakers of a dirine condition, which extenda to the banish
ing all ignorance and errors, and to the bestowing on ua a fulness of wisdom
and knowledge, as well as holiness and happiness, as much as the condition
of the creature wUl permit ; therefore glory not in riches and atrength, or
anything elae, but ' glory in thia, that you know the Lord,' Jer. ix. 23, 24.
2. Let such aa want the knowledge of God in Christ endeavour for it. It
is by this we gain a union with God. When we have an understanding to
know the true God, we are then ' in him which is true :' 1 John v. 20, ' And
we know that the Son of God is come, and hath given us an understanding
that we may know him that is true ; and we are in him that is trae, even in
hia Son Jesua Chriat.' God lives in such, and they in him. We are united
to him who is truly discovered in his Son Jesus Christ. Calvin observes
this intimation from the apoatle'a expressing it without a copulative, for the
particle even is not in the Greek. Those that seek to know God without
Christ have not any light that can satisfy them ; they know that there is one
God, but they have no means of union to him, or communion with him,
without the mediator. Without Christ we can neither know God nor know
ouraelves. Without him there is nothing but darkness and ground of de
spair, nothing but confusion to us appears in the nature of God, nothing
but trouble and misery in our own nature. f We are desirous God ahould
know us in our misery, and know our want and indigence we lie under ;
and is it not a folly for us not to know God in hia fulness ? We can make
but slender guesses at God tUl we see him in the face of a mediator.
To this end,
1. Study the gospel. The gospel hath the same titles in part that Christ
hath. It is called the power of God, and the wiadom of God ; as instru-
mentally-it declares Christ to the world, who is essentially the power and
wisdom of God, and mediatorily and by way of exceUency, as he discovers
the perfections of God to the world ; and the gospel is ao by way of aubser-
viency, to inform our understandings, conduct us to God, and excite our
motions. It is in this God makes the church's windows as agates, Isa. liv.
12, 13, or, aa othera, jasper stone, clear as crystal, more fit for windows than
dark agates. And, indeed, the light of the church ia compared to jasper, aa
Rev. xxi. 11. The iaaue of all ia to be taught of the Lord. It ia unworthy
for any man to trifle away his time in the knowledge of human things, with
a neglect of thia. Should not an eye-salve be more desirable to a blind man
for the restoration of his sight, than a purple robe ? What comfort can
learning, riches, greatness, yea, a thorny crown and sceptre, be to one as
blind as a mole in spiritual thinga ? Angels know more than any creatures,
of the depths of God's wisdom in creation ; they see the several engines
¦* Mestrezat, ser, iv. sur, Heb. viii, pp. 407, 408. t Pascal, Pens. p. 151.
VOL. IV. L

162 chabnock's woeks. [John XVII. 3.
whereby the creatures perform their motions, yet they are not said to in
quire into those things, or please themselves with philosophical meditations,
but to be students in the wisdom of God, in the mysteries of the gospel,
which presents them with a scheme of God, more ravishing than that in
creation. The knowledge of God in the gospel is more glorious than the
knowledge of God by nature, aa much aa Scripture revelation ia above natural
reason. There hath been something of God in Christ known in the church,
ever since the first promise of the seed of the woman. Abraham saw Christ's
day afar off, the prophets predicted him, he was wrapt in types, the Israelites
beheld him in their paschal lamb, the stricken broached rock, the nourishing
manna, the divine propitiatory, and the daily sacrifices. But what is all
this to tbe knowledge of him by the gospel, and consequently the knowledge
of God by him since his incarnation, since the shadows fled away, and the
aun hath appeared in ita splendour ?
2. Submit yourselves to the prophetical office of Christ as his disciples.
He is as real a prophet now to instruct the soul, as he ia a priest to inter
cede for it, or a king to rule it. As God is propitious through Christ, so he
is only an instructor through Christ. As the power of God in the conver
sion of the soul, so the wisdom of God in the instruction of the sonl, breaks
out through Christ. He only that can bring us to glory, can guide us by
his eye, Ps. xxxii. 8. He is the Lord that shews us light, Ps. cxviii. 27.
If we would have light, we must use the beams of the sun. If we would be
knowing, we must have recourse to some skilful person in the science we
would learn. Resignation to Christ is the first step to divine knowledge.
Christ will not teach any that proudly strut against his office. It is the
master's delight to teach an inquisitive and humble scholar. It was ' given'
to the disciples, those that had devoted themselves to him, ' to know the
mysteries ofthe kingdom of God,' Mark iv. 11. Receive him, therefore, as
the great prophet of God's appointing, furnished with skill to propose to you
the knowledge of God, and efficacious ability to imprint it upon your minds
by an inward illumination. Have a solemn veneration for the letter of the
gospel ; but lift up your eyes to Chriat aa a prophet, begging of him to open
the eyes and seal instruction, to unlock the soul and enlighten the under
standing ; and say as Zophar to Job, ' Oh that God would teach and shew me
the secrets of wisdom ! ' Job xi. 6. He is God's interpreter ; to discover
God was the end of his coming. His office is to teach ; put him upon the
exercise of it. He hath a charge from the Father to declare hia name, he
will not be unfaithful in it. Plead his charge, he hath promiaed to declare
it ; urge bim with hia truth.
3. Endeavour after suitable affections to whatsoever you know of God in
Christ. Let the holiness of God in Christ be the awe of your souls. Let
us not dandle any sin which God so hates, that he would not remit it without
the price of the blood of his Son. Tremble at that justice which drank such
draughts of precious blood in the punishment of sin, and conaider every sin
in its utmost demerit. Admire and bleaa that wiadom, which made itself so
eminent in the untying so many knots, passing over such mountains of
difficulties that he might shew himself a hater of sin and a lover of his crea
tures, that he might entwine his mercy and justice in perpetual embraces.
Let us have as strong affectiona of love and joy, as the devils, by their know
ledge of God as discovered in Chriat, have of horror and hatred. We see
in that, not only the manifestation, but the satisfaction of his justice ; they
see the manifestation of it, and the dissatisfaction of it for ever with them.
They have such a knowledge of God in Christ, as to awaken their consciences;
we may have such a knowledge of God in Christ, as lo calm our consciences.

John XVII. 3.] the knowledge op god in cheist. 163
Their terrors are as much increased by that discovery, as a believer's comfort.
They behold God in Christ, their implacable and inexorable judge ; we may
behold God in Christ, a tender and condescending Father. They know a
God in our nature, imparting his own nature to us ; and refusing their nature,
to leave them to lie in their fallen state for ever. The terrible attributes
become sweet in Christ to man, and more dreadful to them. Let the
motions of your will, and the afiections of your soul, rise according to the
elevation of your knowledge of God in Christ, more or lesa.
To conclude ; let ua behold hia justice, to humble ourselves under it ; his
pardoning grace, to have recourse to it under pressures of guilt. Let ua
sweeten our affections by the sight of his compassions, and have confidence
to caU upon him as a Father in our necessities. Not any discovery of God
in Christ, but is an encouragement to a forlorn creature, lost in his own
sense. His perfections smile upon man ; nothing of God looks terrible in
Christ to a believer. The sun is risen, shadows are vanished, God walks
upon the battlements of love, justice hath left ita sting in a Saviour's side,
the law ia disarmed, weapons out of his hand, his bosom open, his bowels
yearn, his heart pants, sweetness and love is in all his carriage. And this
ia life eternal, to know God believingly in the glories of his mercy and justice
in Jesus Christ.

A DISCO[JRSE OF CONVICTION OF SIK

And when he is come, he will reprove the world of sin, and of righteous
ness, and of judgment ': of sin, because they believed, not on me. —
John XVI. 8, 9.
OuB Sariour in this chapter shews what was the intention of his discourse
in the former, which waa, first, to forewarn his disciples of, and forearm them
against, the violence they should meet with in the world after hia departure
from them, in the chapter foregoing, ver. 20 ; which violence should be
the hotter against them, because it would be thought an acceptable service
unto God to assault them vrith the sharpest peraecutiona. He therefore
wisheth them to remember what he had said, in the fourth verse of this
chapter : ' But these things I have told you, that when the time shall come,
you may remember that I told you of them.' He knew the jealousies of
men's hearts, how apt upon every occasion they are to make unjust reflec
tions. Therefore, saith he, consider it well, and do not have hard thoughts
of me, when you come to feel these sufferings I now speak of I tell you
before of them, that you may have no cause to blame me, as one that dealt
falsely with you in concealing the sting, while I present you with the honey.
No ; I acquaint you vrith the worst as well as the best part, the bitterest as
well as the sweetest. Then, secondly, he supports his drooping disciples,
who began to faint at the thoughts of his departure, John xv. 26 ; and also
in thia chapter, which he doth by the promise of a Comforter to be sent unto
them. You may observe, first, that God doth not send any affliction upon his
people, without providing them also a cordial ; as a wise physician, who
prescribes a purge to carry away the corrupt humours, and a cordial to sup
port the spirita. Our Saviour tells them of the Comforter that should refresh
them, aa well as acquaints them with that misery that might deject them.
The same was God's procedure with our first parents after the fall : first, he
revivea them with a gracious promise, before he denounceth a grievous stand
ing sentence upon them. And,
Secondly, Observe that God sends afflictions on hia dearest chUdren.
These apostles that were the salt of the Jewish nation, preserring them from
a total putrefaction, those that Chriat had laid in hia boaom, revealed the
secrets of his Father, and the mysteries of redemption to, and prayed for
their preservation, and intended to do it further in a solemn manner (as be

John XVL 8, 9.J conviction of sin. ^ • l;6g-
did in the foUowing chapter), had cuUed them out as witnesses to bear up.
his name in the world, and given them an assurance of being in glory with
him ; yet these must be hated, and kUled, and depressed under the violence
of the wicked world.
The miseries they should endure are two, John xvi. 2 :
First, Excommunication : ' They shall put you out of the synagogues.'
The Jews should not think them worthy to. be in the church.
Secondly, Destruction : ' Whosoever kUleth you will think he doth God
service. They should not be thought worthy to hve in the world.
And the grounds of this violent proceeding are two :
(1.) Superstitious zeal. They shaU think they do God good serrice in so
doing. (2.) Blind ignorance : ver. 8, ' These things wiU they do unto you, be
cause they have not known the Father.' These are the two great grounds of all
persecutions that are in the world, superstitious zeal and blind ignorance.
You may observe,
Firat, How often is religion pretended to juatify cruelty ! God had not
any church in the world but among the Jews at that time, yet the body of
them do set themselves in opposition againat those few disciples that bore up
the name of Christ in the world, and under the pretence of religion they
would send them out of the world. So contrary to the main design of God,
which is to promote charity to man, aa well as love to himself.
Secondly, Nothing is so great an enemy to true Christianity as ignorant
zeal ; nothing ao hurtful as passion, clothed with the purple of a seeming
piety. A zealous Paul wiU be a persecuting Paul, because zealous in the
external part of the Jewish religion. The superstitious Jews did more
oppose the progreas of the gospel than either the profane sort among them,
or the bhnd heathen.
Thirdly, We may observe in the chapter how Christ giveth them the reason
why he acquainted them with these thinga now, and withal, why he did not
teU them of them before : ver. 4, ' These thinga I have told you, that, when
the time ahall come, you may remember that I told you of them. And these
thinga I said not unto you at the beginning, because I was with you.' He
was with them, and by his personal presence did give them a remedy upon
any emergency. He was a screen to keep off the rage of men from them,
by receiving it upon himself.
Fourthly, He searcheth into the causes of their sorrow : ver. 5, 6, ' But
now I go my way to him that sent me, sorrow hath filled your hearts.'
(1.) His departure from them, ver. 6, that had filled their hearta with
sorrow, the thoughts of that. And who could blame them for grieving at the
parting with so good and tender a master, and to part with him when a deluge
of misery by his own prediction was flowing in upon them, and to part vrith'
him upon such terms, and by such a death as to outward appearance would
reflect on them as his foUowera, aa weU as on him their master ? Such ap-.
prehensions of the atorm could not but stagger an ungrown faith, and nip
their budding hopes and joy. Probably their carnal conceptiona of a carnal
kingdom being foUed by our Sariour, was the ground of all. Alas ! have we
left all to follow him, ahd expected great outward advantages, and that we
should be near him, and be his friends ; and are we thus mistaken in his
person and design, and faUen from the top of our hopes into the depth of an
unexpected misery ? Such conceptions they might have, and therefore their
sorrows were the greater.
First, Observe, that spiritual apprehensions are an antidote against un-
behef, and the sorrow consequent upon it. All such sorrow in a Christian

166 chabnock's woeks. [John XVI. 8, 9.
ariseth from ignorant, and false, and mean, and sordid, and unworthy notions
of the design and the truths of God. Had these weak and heavy apostles
had right and spiritual conceptions of their Master's work, they had rejoiced
as much as now they grieved. None can hve to Christ, as dying and rising
for them, who have no other knowledge of him but ' after tbe flesh, 2 Cor.
V. 15, 16. Carnal conceptions of the deepa of God do leave a very gloomy
darkness upon the soul. Therefore he searcheth into the causes of their
sorrow, the first of which was his departure.
Secondly, Their carelessness in inquiring whither he went ; which he tells
them of in a way of reproof : ver. 5, ' Now I go my way to him that sent
me ; and none of you ask me, Whither goest thou ? ' Had they inquired of
him the reason of thinga, their grief had been prevented, and their joy estab
lished. It waa to heaven he was to go, upon their account aa well as his
own, to a Father that loved him, and them also.
1. Observe. Those things which are ground of joy in themselves are, by
our neglect of a due inquiry, and our mistakes, matter of grief to ns. How
apt are good men to draw matter of sorrow from grounds of joy ! The best
man is a very ignorant interpreter of the designs of providence. We cannot
see the beauty of providence, because of the black mask that veils it. For
want of inquiring of Christ the end of his death and ascension, the reason of
his going, and the place whither he went, they tasted not that comfort which
thia might have afforded them, and missed at present the design and intend
ment of it.
2. We may observe, that the way to true comfort ia to inquire into, and
conaider well, the reason of divine mysteries. Had they understood the
reason of hia death, the reason of his ascension, the reason of his going to
his Father, they could not have grieved, but rather have rejoiced. A slight
knowledge will make but a slight grace, and flashy staggering joy : 2 Peter
iii. 18, ' But grow in grace, and in the knowledge of our Lord and Saviour
Jesus Christ.' Know how he is a Lord, and how he is a Saviour, and upon
what accounts and grounds ; and growing in such a kind of knowledge is the
way to grow in grace.
Fifthly, He informs them of the necessity of his departure for their advan
tage. It was necessary for him to take possession of his kingdom, sit down
upon his throne ; necessary for them, that thereby they might enjoy the
choicest fruits of his purchaae : ver 7, ' It is expedient for you that I go
away; for if I go not away, the Comforter will not come unto you.'
1. He illuatrates this necessity by the contrary, ' If I go not away, the
Comforter will not come unto you ; ' therefore, if you would have the Com
forter come, it is necessary that I go.
2. He confirms it by an asseveration, ' I tell you the truth,' I speak truly
to you, ' If I do not go, the Comforter wUl not come.' There is one to
come after my departure to supply my absence, who shall carry on the work
of redemption I have laid, vrith greater success to the conviction of the
world, who shall be in your ministry with you, and shall convince men
of their sins, and of that remedy I have provided.
We may observe,
First, How tender is our Saviour of grieving his weak and distressed
people ! He doth not rate them for their unbelieving sorrow, and forbear
any further dealing with them ; he might have chid them for not believing
him upon his bare word, but he condescends to give them an affirmation,
next to an oath, 'I tell you the truth.' He is always very careful not to
break a bruised reed ; and ia like hia Father, who by his oath hath given ns
strong consolation, and a mighty prop fot our tottering faith.

John XVI. 8, 9.J conviction of sin. 167
Secondly, observe this, the death and ascension of Christ were highly
necessary for the descent of the Spirit.
(1.) This choicest benefit we receive from God could not have come,
unless the juatice of God had been satisfied, and his favour procured by a
sufficient sacrifice. How unreasonable ia it to think God should bestow the
highest of his favours, while his justice waa not contented ! Christ by his
death appeased the anger of his Father, and bare the punishment we had
merited, and opened those treasures of grace which by reaaon of our sina
had been abut up from us. Besides, the death of Christ was so perfect an
obedience, that it gained all the love and affection of his Father as a requital ;
it was so highly grateful to him, and the pleasure he took iu it was so great,
that because of that he would give to Christ and his people whatsoever was
most dear and precious to him. To have thia right of sending the Spirit, it
waa necessary Chriat should die. The rock was to be struck by the rod of
Moses before it did send out water ; and Christ, the spiritual rock, was to be
struck by the curse of the law before the Spirit (which is often in Scripture
compared to water) could flow out. And though the Spirit waa sparingly
communicated before the death of Christ, yet it was communicated, and
that upon the promise which Chriat made of dying for men in the fulness of
time, upon the account of that death which was to be suffered in due time.
(2.) The Spirit could not come unleas Christ had ascended ; for by his
going to the Father, he means his death and ascension. The Spirit could
not come but by the gift and mission of the mediator, on whoae head he
was first to be poured, and flow down from him on all believers. Besides,
Chriat received not thoae rich gifts from the hand of his Father, to com
municate to ua, tUl he had entered into the true sanctuary not made with
handa. He received them for himself before, to fit him for that obedience
he was to perform by the death of the cross ; but he received them to com
municate unto us after his ascension, then he received gifts for men. What
he purchased by his death, he took possession of at his entrance into heaven.
The end of the Spirit's coming could not be carried on without Christ's
death and ascension; for the Spfrit was to manifest the infiniteness of God's
love to man, and declare the means of salvation. Now, the principal reason
upon which this manifestation was to be built, was the death of Christ ; he
must therefore die, and rise again, and ascend, before the grounds of thia
reaaon could be valid ; which appears afterwards in the reasons rendered of
his ' reproving the world of sin, of righteouaneaa, and of judgment.' His
death was necessary to satisfy God'a justice ; his resurrection and ascension
to manifest God'a acceptation and approbation of his death. The sending
the Spirit being a part of his royalty aa mediator, it was not convenient he
should be sent till Christ was crowned, and sat down on his throne in his
kingdom. There are two benefits by Christ : acquisition of redemption,
which was by his death ; and application of that redemption, which is by
his intercession in heaven, and his Spirit on earth So that if he had not
ascended, we had wanted the Spirit to make application, and to render us fit
for it ; we had wanted the preparation for it, and the comfort of it. Then,
Thirdly, we may observe, that the presence of the Spirit is a greater
comfort than simply the presence of Chriat in his flesh. ' It is expedient
for you that I go away ; if I go not away, the Comforter wUl not come.' It
is better for you I ahould go, because then the Comforter will come. Christ
is a comforter ; but the Spirit is more intimately a comforter than Chriat in
his fleshly preaence. Christ in his first coming did possess himaelf of our
fiesh, and converae with his disciples outwardly ; but the Spirit is to poaseas
himaelf of our hearts inwardly : Gal. iv. 4-6, ' When the fulness of time

168 chabnock's wobks. [John XVI. 8, 9.
was come, God sent forth his Son, made of a woman, made under the law,
to redeem them that were under the law, that we might receive the adop
tion of sons ; and because ye are sons, God hath sent forth the Spirit of his
Son into your hearta, crying, Abba, Father.' Chriat dwelt among us in the
flesh ; the Spirit doth not only dwell with a believer, but in him, John
xiv. 17 ; not only dweU with you by outward declaration, but he shall be in
you by inward motion and inspiration. And you aee he giveth him here
the title of Comforter. The name signifies one that speaks eloquently,
persuasively, with much facility, elegancy, and affection, in auch a manner
as mightily works upon others, and pleasingly gratifies them. It signifies
both a comforter and instructor, both which agree well to the Holy Ghost.
For, First, He was to acquaint the world with tbe highest mysteries of God
manifest in the fiesh ; to open the secret of God's love to the world, and
the resolves of eternity ; to draw the curtain from before those truths which
neither the eye of nature, nor the more open eye of the Jews were able to
pierce into because of the veil, ver. 13. He was to ' guide them into aU
truth,' the knowledge and observance of all truth necessary.
Secondly, He was to witness of Christ; and therefore might weU be called
an instractor. As Christ unfolded the treasures of his Father's love, and
purchased divine blessings by his passion, so the Spirit was to bear witness
to the commisaion Christ had to offer up himself, and the validity of that
offering, and the nature of his purchase. It was a thing incredible in itself,
that a God of infinite tenderness should expose hia innocent Son to suffer
ings and death for rebellious creatures. It was necessary the Spirit should
be employed to persuade men inwardly of the reality and truth of this, of
the authority of Christ, his sincerity in dying, and the efficacy of that death,
and the necessity of their interest in it by faith, and to apply all to the
believing soul with comfort, and fill it with peace by virtue of this expiation.
Now what ia this Comforter, advocate, or instructor to do ? He will
reprove, or rather conrince, iXsy^ii ; the word here translated reprove is
sometimes so rendered : 1 Cor. xiv. 24, ' He ia convinced of all.' It is the
same v^ord which is here, and also in Jude 15, ' To convince all that are
ungodly of their ungodly deeds.' It signifies to reprove by way of argu
ment, to manifest by an undeniable deiponstration the truth or falsity of
such an opinion, so as to stop the month of the guilty or erroneous person,
that he cannot find so much as a fig-leaf of an excuse, or a starting-hole
from it. It is to charge a thing so home and so close as to bring the con
acience under the power of truth, and to make it self-condemned, to conrict
us by our own conscience ; so the word is rendered in John riii. 9. So the
Spirit was evidently to demonstrate the guilt of sin, and the beauty of
righteousness, and the certainty of judgment.
To convince the world. The Spirit waa not only given to the apostles, to
set up light in their hearts, but to the world in a large sense, to justify Christ
before them. Not only to those that shall be seriously affected under a sense
of sin, and turn to Christ, but to convince others in the world of sin, who
wUl never step any farther, nor yield to the power and authority of it, nor
acknowledge the truth, nor accept of Christ and hia righteouaness.
What is the Spirit to convince of? Of sin, of righteousnesa, and of judg
ment. A threefold object the Spirit was to be conversant about.
I. He was to convince of ain. The light of nature was not so extinct but
some sins were to be discerned. All the moat barbarous nations, agreeing!
in some common notion of justice and righteousness, they knew that many
things they did were worthy of death by divine judgment ; and they perceived

John XVI. 8, 9.] , conviction op sin. 169
by sharp punishments inflicted on some notorious offenders in a particular
manner, how odious some actions were to God, and how criminal before him.
But, First, The world understood not the extent of sin. They knew some sins,
but not all the kinds of sin to which wrath is due ; they looked upon some
sins as part of their happiness, rather than their misery. What were clearly
against the light of nature, crimson and scarlet sins, they could discern, and
acknowledge themselves for them worthy of death ; but there were some
molehill sins, peccadilloes, against which they had no help, by consideration
of the mercy of God, by laying hold of the righteousness of Christ, and the
neceasity of faith in him. They armed themselves with the merey of God,
without considering the righteousness of Christ. It opens not the mahgnity
of sin, nor understands all the aggravations of it, which are necessary deeply
to affect the aoul.
Secondly, The world did not understand the sin of their nature. The
world would not acknowledge it for unrighteousness, would not apprehend
itself in a state of sin, because of their commendable qualities in the eyes of
others. The world is not sensible of its change from the image of God by
creation into the image of the devil by corruption. It understands not the
extent of original sin, the depravation of their rational faculties, the lameness
and impotency of their free wiU, nor the sinfulneas of the first motions of
their hearts ; nature applauds its own power and self-ability in the midst of
its weakness, and an affection to God under a boiling enmity.
Thirdly, The world did not understand the sin of unbelief. As the light
of nature could not discover a Christ to them, so it could not discover the
sin of unbelief to them ; how could it conrince of their unbelief, when it did
not discover the object to be believed in. But the Spirit shall convince of
a state of sin, of the depths of it in the heart, the atreams of it in the life,
and especially of unbelief, which rendera the diaease incurable, since there is
no other medicine but the blood of Christ, and no other way of partaking of
that medicine but by faith ; it will evidence they are born in sin, can do
nothing but ain, and cannot but by faith be delivered from those bonds of
sin, but must die in them ; that if they believe not in Christ, that came to
redeem fallen mankind, their sins will lie on them, they will perish in them,
and lie under the curse of God. Now that sin in general is here meant —
the Spirit shall convince of sin — as the object of the Spirit's conviction, is
clear, because.
First, He names it in general, as noting the whole mass of sin.
Secondly, Because it is in vain to convince men of the sinfulness of their
unbelief, unless they be conrinced first of the necessity of faith. And what
ground have they to be convinced of the necessity of faith, unless they find
such loads of sin upon them as they are never able to bear, such guUt aa
they are never able to answer for, or remove from themselves ?
Thirdly, Because the Holy Ghost condemns all other sins, as well as un
belief, and therefore convinceth of them ; not only of unbelief, but other sins
that stand in the way of salvation.
Fourthly, The Spirit in the text waa to pronounce the whole world out of
Christ to be in a state of sin and death ; because, when the world would
plead its righteouaneaa, and seem to establish trophies to itself, shield itself
by its own righteousness, the Spirit should condemn that righteousness as
not sufficient, because else it had been in vain for God to send his Son to
work another righteousness. That is the firat thing, the Spirit waa to con
vince of sin.
II. The Spirit was to convince of righteousness.

170 chabnock's woeks. [John XVI. 8, 9.
1. Some refer it to the righteousness of Christ's person ; that is, his going
to the Father was an evidence that he was a just peraon ; heaven would not
elae have entertained him ; it would have been no receptacle for an impostor,
and one that to his last gasp should persist in a known crime. The Spirit
should convince tbe world by undeniable testimonies and demonstra
tions, that he was an innocent person, that he was no malefactor when he
suffered. 2. Others refer it to the righteousness of Christ's office, and his merits
imputed to believers. And, indeed, the coming of the Spirit was a testimony
of his acceptation with the Father, for the Spirit had not come in such a
miraculous manner as was manifest in the apostles, had not Christ in heaven
had an acceptation of his sufferings from his Father.
3. Others understand it thus, He shall convince of the insufficiency of
human righteouaness. By the light of nature men had some particular
notions of justice. By nature, they knew in some measure what was right;
they knew they were not to do wrong, that they were to be advantageous to
the community ; they knew they were to cherish those that had been bene
ficial to them : hence they deified those that were public benefactors, either
by the discovery of arts that were useful to human societies, or the defence
of their country in an invasion, or the delivery of those that were oppressed,
from the common plagues and scourges of mankind. These they boasted of,
their moral virtues, their invented worship, the service of their gods, and
their good intentions. Now, since by the light of nature men could not con
ceive of a higher righteousness than justice between man and man, and an
external devotion towards God, the Spirit was to convince them of the weak-
neaa of thia conceited righteousness, and the want of a better, shewing that
Christ's righteousnesa is the only true righteousness of God, because he is
gone to the Father, and shall not return again to be a sacrifice for sin. For
if righteousnesa should have been by works, Christ had died in vain.
III. The Spirit was to convince of judgment. Some understand it that
the judgment of this world concerning Christ was unjust ; and the Spirit was
to convince that it was so. Others, to convince of the damnation of the
devil, and consequently of all that adhered to him : ' Of judgment, because
the prince of thia world is judged.' Others, of the deliverance of man, which
was evidenced by the condemnation of the devil, subduing him upon the
crosa, taking away that sin whereby he had power over man. Others, of
the judgment of the world concerning oraclea, auperstition, and the worship
of idols, which they thought an acceptable worship. The Spirit should con
vince that this waa a falae judgment, since the devil was cast down from his
chair of oracles, and the month of the father of lies was stopped, and the
prince that usurped the government of the world, and to whom men paid
ready obedience, was cast out and stripped of his power ; also, convince of
judgment, of the consequent of this righteousness and merit of Christ, and
the certainty of God's judgment concerning him ; because the devU is cast
out, which is a sufficient evidence that God hath adjudged the victory to
Christ, since the devil ia dismounted of his power ; and that perfection of
holiness and freedom from sin shall be obtained at last, since the great
captain of sin is slain, and there ia no hopes of hia rising again to secure his
own standing, or destroy a believer's interest; for if the power of the Captain
of their salvation did in hia humUiation break the strength of the devil,
much more in the atate of exaltation wiU he keep him from ever reducing his
people to that misery wherein they were before. And in this part of con
vincing, the Spirit did work aa a comforter. Now, to ' convince the world
of sin, of righteousness, and of judgment,' and to shew the further extent of

John XVI. 8, 9.] conviction op sin. 171
sin, and the necessity of another righteousness, required a mighty power;
since these apprehensions which the world had, had reigned so long in them,
and the new propositions and declarations were in themselvea incredible to
blear-eyed reaaon. Who could imagine that the Son of God should take
flesh, and die upon the cross, and the devU be conquered and ruined by the
death of the Son of God ? Who could have imagined these things ? "Had
the Son of God come in triumph into the world, with legions of angels, and
visibly cast the devU from his throne, and viaibly given forth hia laws, then
the world could not but have beheved on him, and submitted to him : but
to talk of a victory over a living devil by a dying man ; of the necessity of
believing in a crucified person, that suffered death as the vilest malefactor ;
to speak of the righteousness of God, wrought by one that was put to death
as a criminal and a blasphemer, in the judgment of a whole nation, and his
own countrymen too ; these were such seeming contradictions to the weak
reason of the world, without the divine light of the Spirit manifesting the
reason, and divine methods, a.nd the nature of the things which he was to
instruct men in, aa a comforter, as a teacher of the world, that they could
not possibly take place in them by any less power than an almighty one.
One thing more : some think these convictions not to be by an inward
illumination, but by an objective testimony of the Spirit, by miracles and
extraordinary gifts conferred on the apostles, whereby the truth of what
Christ had said and spoke was confirmed and demonstrated. Though this
be true, yet it is not all ' there was an objective conviction by miracles ; but
was not there also a aecret inward conviction by inspiration ? The Spirit
was not only to dwell among men, or with them by outward acts, but in them,
John xiv. 17. The Spirit was to be sent into the heart by an inward opera
tion, as well aa by an outward demonstration of miracles, and the Father
and the Son promised to make their abode with the souls of believers, and
manifest themselvea to them : how, except in this manner ? All the works
of the Spirit are couched in this act of convincing of sin, of righteouaneas,
and of judgment. What ia to be done here, but hating sin and encouraging
our faith in Christ, because of his merit and his ascension to the Father, and
heightening our hopes by the assurance of the conquest of sin and Satan ?
And all these are the acts of the Spirit in every believer, more or less, to tbe
end of the world. The convincing of sin, of righteousness, and of judgment,
do in a manner comprehend all the acts of the Spirit in a believer. There
fore, it is more than an objective conviction. Thus much concerning the words.
I shall pitch upon these two observations :
Obs. 1. That the Spirit of God is the author of conviction of sin. And,
Ohs. 2. That unbelief (that being the reason rendered, ' of sin, hecause
they believe not on me ') is a sin of the greatest malignity against God, and
danger to the sonl. But for tbe
First, The Spirit ia to convince of sin : not only in general, but in parti
cular, of unbelief, consequently of the root whence it grows, the food that
inaintains it, and every sin that stops the entrance of the grace of faith. He
was to shew the demerits of sin, whereby men might apprehend and be ascer
tained of the necessity of believing in the Mediator proposed, when they saw
the depths of filthiness broken up, and the mountains of sin discovered, and
not a mite of solid righteousness visible either in their natures or actions.
The Spirit of God is the author of the conviction of sin. I shall shew,
First, That the Spirit doth convince of sin.
Secondly, It is neceasary the Spirit should throughly convince of sin, if
ever a man be convinced.
Thfrdly, How and by what means the Spirit doth work this conviction.

172 chabnock's woeks. [John XVI. 8, 9.
Fourthly, What sin, or what in ain, he doth moat convince of.
Fifthly, What the difference is between convictions proceeding from the
Spirit more immediately, and those from any other cause.
Sixthly, The use.
I. That the Spirit doth convince of sin. We shall speak to it m some
propositions. First, All conrictiona of sin do, either mediately or immediately, come
from the Spirit of God. As it is commonly said, whenceaoever truth imme
diately cometh, it originally ariaeth from the Holy Spirit ; ao, whatsoever
the instrument be, the principal cause of the application of conviction is from
the Spirit. There is a common and a special work of the Holy Ghost. All
convictions of men, though they may some of them arise from some more
immediate cause by the word, are the Spirit's work efficiently, by the word
instrumentally. Conscience is naturally a dead and stupid thing, man a
brutish creature, being fallen ; and, being flesh, he resists and diaputea against
any convictions of sin ; and therefore, if conscience be not stirred up by the
Spirit, it would never rise up in any self-reflection : Gen. vi. 3, ' My Spirit
shall not always strive with man, for he is flesh.' Aa man, being flesh, is
perverse against the reasonings of the Spirit, so, being flesh, he would never
have the least distaste of any iniquity, unless the Spirit did excite those relics
of natural light which remain in the soul. As those relics do remain in us
by rirtue of the mediation of Christ, so all the awakenings of them to any
sense, or the reformations which have been wrought thereupon in the world,
have been by the Spirit of Christ. All the sense that any of those of the old
world had, was from the inward motion of the Spirit inviting them to repent
ance : ' My Spirit shall not always strive with man ;' implying that it did
strive, and it waa in subserviency to Chriat the Mediator that the Spirit did
strive with that generation of men. Upon which account Christ is said
by the Spirit to go and ' preach to the spirita in prison, which sometimes
were disobedient, when the long-suffering of God waited in the days of Noah,'
1 Pet. iu. 20.
It was that Spirit of holiness and truth whereby Chriat was quickened,
which was no other than the Holy Ghost ; and these disobedient persons to
whom Christ preached thus by his Spirit, are called spirita, in relation to the
state wherein they now are in priaon, before the resurrection, not in relation
to the state wherein they were when the Spirit did strive with them. What
soever sense there was upon any in the old world, was from the striving of
the Spirit of God with them, aa the Spirit of the Mediator, by whose inter
position those relics which were in them were kept up, and that reason which
they had waa conveyed to them, and did remain in them. By this Spirit
Christ is aaid to go and preach unto them. So that all motiona of conscience,
all convictions, whether upon those that reject them, or those that receive
them, are from the Spirit as the Spirit of the Mediator. From this power
did the terrors of Cain and Judas arise, so far as it was the work of illumi
nation, exciting their rational faculties, though the sin and unbelief in those
terrors did not arise from the Spirit. The stick stirs the water by the child's
agitation, the mud is raised, though the stick doth not convey the mud to it,
nor immediately touch it, but by the water. When the discovery of sin in
ita evil ia made by the Spirit, that ia a good work ; but if men abstain from
that sin, the evil of which they see, out of a servile principle, that is eril ;
the discovery and restraint is good, but the principle is eril, being the effect,
not of any love to God, but enmity to him, and love to themselves. All the
convictions of sin do either mediately or immediately come from the Spirit

John XVI. 8, 9.] conviction of sin. I73
of God in any person whatsoever, it is from hia atriving with them that they
do arise.
_ Secondly, This is the office ofthe Spirit. The word comforter, TagaxXriros,
signifies an advocate, and is so translated when it ia used of Christ : 1 John
ii. 1, ' If any man sin, we have an advocate with the Father, Jesus Christ
the righteous.' Now, the office of an advocate is to convince the party he
appears against of his crime, and the injury he hath done to his client ; to
answer his reason, and stop his mouth, and make the matter of fact evident.
The convincing work of the Spirit is an advocacy to the soul ; he appears
and manageth the cause aa an advocate ; he arms himaelf with the curses of
the law against it. He is an advocate for God and his righteousness in the
law ; but in the work of consolation the Spirit is an advocate for the soul,
and the righteousness of the gospel, against the rigours of the law ; so that,
while the Spirit is an advocate against the soul, he muat as necessarily
accuse and argue against it, aa when he is an advocate for the soul, he must
refreah and pacify it, and plead for ita support. In regard of this office he
ia called ' a apirit of bondage' : Rom. viii. 15, ' Ye have not received the
spirit of bondage,' &c. ; which, though aome would underatand only of the
outward Mosaic dispensation, it seems to be an inward work of the Spirit in
the hearts of men. The intent of the apostle may be sometimes to shew the
liberty of believers from the ceremonial law, to which the Jews were in bond
age ; but it doth not appear that it was the intent of the apostle in this
place. Yea, it is to be considered that he wrote to the Christians in Rome,
who were not all Jews, and very likely but a few of them were so, and so
were never und^r the bondage of the Jewish ceremonies, but the burden of
Pagan rites. As he is a ' Spirit of adoption,' exciting the soul to cry Abba,
Father, he works orderly in the heart after faith ; therefore, aa he is a Spirit
of bondage, he stfrs up fears inwardly in the heart before faith. The apostle
speaks in the former part of the chapter of the actings of the Spirit in be
lievers, of the Spirit's dwelling in them ; the necessity of a man's having the
Spirit of Christ for ' mortifying the deeda of the body' through the Spirit,
which reapects men in particular in a atate of faith ; therefore what he means
here is an inward work in the hearts of men, as well as the other operationa
of the Spirit, which he mentions both before and after it ; so that the Spirit
of bondage respects men in particular before a state of conversion ; he is sent
into the heart as a Spirit of bondage. Terrors, therefore, which are inward
in the soul, and are called the Lord's terrors, Ps. Ixxxriii. 15, 16, are here
called the Spirit of bondage ; not as if it bound the soul, but discovera those
bonda which are by nature upon it, laya open the judgments of God against
it, sets conscience at work to gall men for sin, and giveth not only a notional
knowledge, but a sensible feeling of the weight of them. As he is called the
' Spirit of truth' and the ' Spirit of adoption,' because he applies the pro
mises of grace, so he is called the ' Spirit of bondage,' as he gives a sight
of those fetters that are clapped on by sin and Satan, and applies the law aa
a miniatration of death, as that whereby the man is concluded or shut up
under sin, and at present sees no way to escape. Now, the natural conse
quent and effect of this work muat needs be fear. As the contagion of sin
is discerned by the law, and the curses of the law, without the appearance
of the evangelical remedy, there must needs be pangs and ten'ors. The law
shews only the guilt, but not the pardon ; opens the command and threat
ening, but whispers not a syUable of cotnfort vrithout perfect obedience. In
the application of the threatenings, he ia a Spirit of bondage ; in the appli
cation of the promises, he is a Spirit of adoption. As he flashes fire in the
face of a sinner, so he strews comforts in the heart of a believer.

174 chabnock's wobks. [John XVI. 8, 9.
Thirdly, The Spirit is tho infuser of aU grace in the heart, and therefore
is the author of all preparations to grace, or anything that hath any tendency
that way. It ia by the Spirit of grace any are made aenaible of their pierc
ing Chriat, Zech. xii. 10, and brought to mourn over him. The same Spirit
that aprings up their mournful teara, fixeth their believing eye, both upon
their sin, and on the peraon they had abuaed by it : ' The love of God is
shed abroad in our hearts by the Holy Ghost,' Rom. v. 5, as he manifests
the love of God to us, or raiseth up our love to God ; which cannot be with
out loathing sin, and a sense of it in the heart and life, to enable the soul
to hate it. The true sense of God's goodness cannot be without the sense
of our naughtiness. When the Spirit doth both these, it ia a Spirit of adop
tion ; when it works only a sense of sin, it is a Spirit of bondage. As all
righteousness and truth are works of the Spirit, so all works that are ante-
cedaneous to, and necessary for, the attaining and preserving true righteous
ness, are the fruits of the Spirit, among which deep convictions are none of
the least. It is by the Spirit that we see, as weU as crucify, the lusts of
the flesh.
Fourthly, The Spirit of God is promised in the times of the gospel, for
such operations as this of conviction, as ' a Spirit of judgment,' and ' a Spirit
of burning :' ' When the Lord shall wash away the filth of the daughter of
Zion, and purge the blood of Jerusalem from the midst thereof, by the spirit
of judgment, and by the spirit of burning,' Isa. iv. 4. A spirit of judgment
to convince them, a apirit of burning to refine them, and conaume their
greater and lesser iniquities. He cites the soul before a tribunal, before he
baptizea it with fire to refine it ; and that this is to be understood of gospel
times, will appear from the 2d verse, ' In that day shall the branch of the
Lord be beautiful and glorious ' ; and this is part of that exceUent fruit that
shall be in the earth. In regard of this the Spirit is called fire, to scorch in
conviction and self-condemnation by ita heat, as well as to comfort by its
light and warmth : Isa. xl. 7, ' The grass withereth, and the flower fadeth,
because of the Spirit of the Lord that bloweth upon it.' Our carnal con
fidences stand firm until he hews them down ; our righteousness ia amiable
until the Spirit blows upon it, and dissolves its paint ; beautiful, until the
Spirit snatches off' the disguise. This is a gospel promise, that flesh should
appear what it is. It should be made desolate, and convictions be wrought
in men of the ugliness of sin, and the emptinesa of their own righteousness,
and the insufficiency of everything that comes under the title of flesh. This
is a gospel promise of what the Spirit should do when the glory of the Lord
should be revealed. Flesh should appear to be what it ia, a manifeat con
viction be wrought of the ugliness of sin, the emptiness of our own righteous
ness, the insufficiency of everything that cometh^under the title of flesh. The
II. Second thing is to shew, that it is necessary the Spirit should do this
work of convincing. There ia as much need of the Spirit to convince us of
the guilt of sin, while we are in a state of nature, as there is of the Spirit to
comfort us under the apprehensions of guilt, and the charge of an accusing
conscience. There is as much need of the Spirit to do the one aa to do the
other. For,
1. The light of fallen nature is insufficient of itself to cause a thorough
conviction. It is true, there is a natural law in men's hearts, which dis
covers some duties to be done, some gross impieties to be avoided. There
are common notions left in man which may conduct him in a moral course,
without which human society could not be preserved. These are, that there
is a God, that this God ia to be worshipped, that he is righteous, who re-

John XVI. 8, 9.j conviction of sin. 175
wards those that seek him, that there are evil actions worthy of death, that
there is a judgment to be inflicted upon the commission of sin, a self-satis
faction and peace in the avoiding of it, and performing such things as are
good, and comely, and honest, and of good report ; and from such principles
as these, common in man, those laws in all nations against enormities, which
are praiseworthy, and are the bands and ligaments of society and of govern
ment, did arise. Now, these habitual principles in the mind, if read over,
will judge and censure some acts of unrighteousness : some ' works of the
flesh are manifest, such as these, adultery, fornication,' &c.. Gal. v. 19, clear
by natural light to be the works of the flesh. Conscience must more or less
naturally set in order before a man's eyes some sort of unrighteousness, such
unrighteous actions which are contrary to those implanted notions, and
plainly tell them, without any other proof than what is in them, that ' they
that do such thinga are worthy of death,' Rom. i. 32 ; becauae they are
against the universal law imprinted in human nature, and against the acknow
ledged principles placed in us by God. For the knowledge of righteousness
and sin, and also of God'a piercing eye, whereby he aeeth all ain, and of his
impartial justice, which hath store of punishments for the violaters of his
law, is almost as deeply imprinted upon the mind of man by nature as the
notion of a God ; for, indeed, they do naturaUy flow from the notion of a
supreme cause, the governor of the world. Wherefore, in many cases, God
appeals to men's reason, and the principles that are left in them, Isa. v. 8,
Ezek. xviii. 25, and is willing to stand to the unbiassed judgment of their
own minds. But natural light discovera not ain so fully aa it ia necessal^y
for a man to be convinced of it, in order to the entertainment of Christ, and
the grace of God in and by him. For natural light.
First, Discovers not the root of sin. But there is a necessity a man
should be convinced of the root of sin. Men do not by nature understand
the universal pollution of their nature, nor feel the heaviness of the ain of
i Adam. It shews us that something is amiss, and much amiss, but whence
this disorder doth arise nature of itself is wholly ignorant, hath not so much
aa a regular guess, without revelation. The light of nature is too dim to
pierce into the depths of evil ; it acquaints not with the fames of sin, and
that inward strength of evil that gave birth and nourishment to those un
couth actions ; some actual evils it discerns to be so, but not the depraved
principle of them. Some actual evils are loathsome to men by nature, but
not the principle of them ; men are not sensible what possession the evil
spirit of Adam hath of their soula. There must be, therefore, some other
light to pierce through the clouds of nature, and search into the depths of
the belly, and bring to view that habitual inconformity of our nature, to that
rectitude required of ua, and once possessed by ua.
Secondly, It discovers not sin as the greatest evil in the world, neither did
ever nature hate sin as such, because nature is not endowed with any
spiritual affections by its natural deacent. It never had a due sense either
of the authority or holiness of the lawgiver, nor ever considered sin as a
contempt of the sovereignty and purity of the lawgiver and his law, wherein,
indeed, the intrinsic evil of sin doth consist, James ii. 10, 11. Nature did
excite some fears upon the guilt of ain, but no grief for the filth of sin. Men
by nature respect sin aa it stands in relation to the justice and omniscience
of God, as it is the object of his sight and knowledge, and the object of his
revenging justice and wrath, but not as it stands in contrariety to the purity
of God. As it is an afflictive evil they may regard it, but not as it is a pol
luting evil ; as staining their reputation, not as defiling their soula. Nature
giveth us but a little prospect of the beauty of God's hohness, whereby we

176 chabnock's woeks. [John XVI. 8, 9.
must measure tbe heinousness, malignity, and odiousness of ain. As from
the weakness of the relics of natural light there are no strong and powerful
motiona to God, because, though nature discovers something of God, yet not
in all hia perfections, and the amiableness of hia nature ; so the convictions
of sin are weak, because there is not by that hght a discovery of the
abominableness of it to God, and the intrinsic pollution, which is as essen
tial to sin as guilt. Neither, indeed, doth nature discover the consequents
of sin in their dreadfulness, and that wrath which wiU at last meet with it,
and overflow the sinner. The mind, therefore, must be enlightened by some
higher power to understand the holiness of God, thereby to conceive the im
purity of sin.
Thirdly, Nature discovers not the extent of sin in the invisible and secret
veins of it. Many branches of sin are invisible to nature ; it doth not dis
cover sin in its latitude. Nature acquaints not with all the duties to be done,
nor the manner how to do them ; therefore, tells not of all the ains we are
to shun, nor the manner how to avoid them. It uttera not a ayllable of
Christ the mediator, in whose name we are to perform our duties, nor of the
sanctifying Spirit, in whose strength we are to perform them ; nor of faith,
through which principle we are to do them ; nor of the glory of God in all
the ways of it, for which end we are to do them ; nor of the evangelical
promises, from which we are to take encouragement for the doing of them ;
and, consequently, doth not shew the extent of sin, which consists in the
failing in all these. It did, indeed, dictate since the fall that God was to he
worshipped, and that with the best strength of the creature, but not the man
ner and way of that worship, and therefore informs not of sins committed
against the true worship of God. It discovera not the sinfulness of the first
motiona, and of the inward workinga of lust. The Jews, that had the im
provements of nature by the discoveries of the law, knew not the first inward
motiona, when atifled, to be sin. They needed, though not the correction
of the law, yet the interpretation of our Saviour in his sermon on the mount. .
What sins nature did make a discovery of, it did only manifest in some
pieces and parts, not in the whole scope of them. As the light of nature
did not shew the law of God in its wideness, ao neither ain in its foulnesb.
It is necessary, therefore, that there should be aome higher power to dis
cover those ains that are beyond the ken of natural light. By the light
of the sun we see the atoms and motes, that we can never discern by the
light of the stars.
Fourthly, Nature discovers not unbelief, the greatest sin of aU. Nature
doth not convince of unbelief ; what aight of it can nature direct us to ?
The works of creation evidence not the mystery of redemption, so
the light of creation doth not eridence the sins against that mystery. The
light of nature discovera a Creator, but not a Redeemer ; because, though
God made the world in order to that glory he intended to get by
redemption, yet he made not the world as a Redeemer. And though it
was made by that person who was the Redeemer, yet it was not made
in the way of redemption, nor vrith the manifestation of those attributes
of love, wisdom, and righteousness, which were evident in the work of
redemption. A toad, upen the view of its image in a glass, knows not its own deformity,
nor the excellency of a man, or some other creature superior to it, and there
fore knows not how to measure its own deformity ; nor doth a natural man,
with his depraved reaaon, know himaelf by the glass of the word to be of a
viperous brood, without some common work of the Spirit. Men by nature
are not ashamed of sin as sin : Rom. vi. 21, ' What firuit had ye then in

John XVI. 8, 9.] conviction op sin. 177
those things, whereof ye are now ashamed ?' Now ashamed, intimating
that in the state of nature they were not ashamed. They were now
ashamed under the new light whereby they aaw them in their nature, not
before, under their natural darkness, wherewith their eyea were closed.
Nature never discovers its own deformity. That is the firat thing ; the light
of nature is insufficient to discover or convince thoroughly of sin. Nature is
insufficient for this work.
(2.) The law barely of itself doth not convince thoroughly of all sin. It
discovers, indeed, more clearly some sins than the light of nature, in regard
it doth more evidence the sovereign authority and holy nature of God, and
consequently discovera the nature of guilt and the greatness of the filth of
sin, and brings to view upon an examination of the heart those little sprouts
and branches of sin in the first motion which are not visible by star-light ;
yet this discovers not the main condemning sin, it discovers not the work of
redemption by Christ. It commands faith in what God reveals, but not
faith with such a modification, directed to such an object as a dying Re
deemer. The voice of the law is not, ' He that helieveth shall be saved,' but
' Do this and live.' The knowledge of other sins is by the law, but tbe
knowledge of unbelief by the gospel. Yet thia doth not convince us of all
actual sins of itself, not in regard of the inability of it aa a rule, or want of
perfection in ita prohibition of ain, but in regard, not only of the multitude
of our sins and infirmities, but the weakness of our nature. Whence David,
Ps. xix. 12, cries out of secret ains, ' Who can understand the errors of
hia life ? Lord, cleanse me from my secret faults.' He rightly imagined
there were more sins in him than fell under his discovery by that light.
These properties ofthe law can never be exercised but in the hand of God,
aa it is an instrument of his managing and directing. How few souls,
among those multitudes of the Israelites, were rightly and thoroughly con
vinced by the thunderings at mount Sinai, at the first pubhshing of the law !
The word ia a sword, yet the sword of the Spirit, and can no more make
gashes in the conscience without the Spirit to wield it, than a sword can
pierce and cut without a atrong arm to add force to its edge. God himself
appearing to a man by his bare word to his ear, without exerting a power on
his heart, cometh short of attaining to thia end. It was not presently that
Adam came to a downright acknowledgment of his sin, though charged with
it by God in the garden. Nor did Cain come to a kindly conriction and
confession of his sin, after all God's disputes with him about his sin, and
manifestations of his patience in making a hedge of his providence round
about him. So that the law, as it doth not discover all ain, ains which are
immediately against the gospel, so it is unable of itself to convince without
some powerful hand, the power of the Spirit of God, to manage it. 'The
reason of this insufficiency is,
First, The wrong notion of things, and the blindness of mind, in natural
men under the gospel. It ia a notion that will not enter into the hearts of
men naturally, that sin is so odious and abominable to G od. Many thinga
they count very light, and prop up themselves with a hope of mercy, and it
wiU not enter into their heart (it is so deeply inlaid in their naturea), that
there is need of the death of the Son of God to take away the guilt of sin,
and the power of the Spirit to wash away the filth of it. They are not ready
to believe this, unless the arm of the Lord pull up such . notions, and root
othera in them. Hence Isaiah cries out, ' Who hath beheved our report ?
and to whom ia the arm of the Lord revealed ? ' Who hath believed that
ever sin is attended with that guUt that the Messiah must be smitten of God,
VOL. rv. ^

178 chabnock's wobks. [John XVI. 8, 9.
stricken and afflicted, to repair the breaches sin hath made ? We have fa,lse
opinions of sin, of righteousness, and of judgment, and therefore the Spirit
doth confute an opinion (as the word sXiyx^iv signifies) which had been
settled in the soul ; it shews ua sins we never dreamt of, a righteousness we
never imagined, and a new fountain of holiness. Rom. i. 21, ' When they
knew God, they glorified him not aa God, and became vain in their imagin-
ationa, and their foolish heart was darkened.' Man believes he ia as God
created him ; he is ignorant of the corruption of his blood, beheves himself
holy in his unholinesa, righteoua in his unrighteousness. Vice ia hid in the
soul, worse than any outward diaease in the body. Men easUy find their
bodies iU-affected, but understand not the state of their aouls possessed by
sin, because the understanding, which should judge of the disease, is ill-
affected itself The foolish heart of man is darkened, and being darkened
cannot understand the diaease, becauae that ia the power of judging, and
that being corrupted, cannot judge in the thinga it suffers. This makes
soul-diseases naturally incurable, causeth men to refuse the medicines, shim
all meana of recovery, and be angry with them that apply remedies. Men
may converse with the law, understand the letter of it, while they are igno
rant of the intent ; a man may see a glass without a reflection on himself
Paul, a pharisee, was a student in the law, a doctor fit to teach the letter of
the law, yet there was a veil between him and the spirit of it, until the
Spirit held the law close to his conscience, Rom. vii. 9. We may have the
outward letter and outward work too, when yet the brightnesa of it, by reason
of the thick mist on the mind, reacheth not the remote part of the soul.
Bring a man that hath lost sight and smeU into a nasty filthy place, he
knoweth not but that it is a beautiful garden, until his eyes be opened and his
smell restored. Therefore there is a necessity of the Spirit to enlighten
the mind in thia first work as well as in all consequential acts. A necessity
of the Spirit to enlighten our minds, who, in regard of his omniscience, is
able by the light of the word to bring sins to view, out of their skulks and
hiding-places. How great is thia ignorance of themselves in the best ! We
know but in part, and as ' in a glass darkly,' either God or ourselves. And
as we stand in need of an high priest to pity us under our infirmities, so of
the Spirit to discover them to us, that we may have a spiritual discerning of
a spiritual mischief. For aa there is a common natural and a apiritual know
ledge of God, ao there ia a natural and a apiritual knowledge of sin : natural
when men know such a thing to be sin, but spiritual when they understand
the spiritual filth, and pollution, and mischief of sin. There is need of the
Spirit that we may spiritually discern the spiritual mischief, that we may
know spiritual truths in a apiritual manner, that we may know sins also with
a spiritual eye. Since the darknesa of the mind ia the cause of a vain walk
ing, Eph. iv. 17, 18, that can never be in any sort a remedy, which is the
cause of the disease, therefore the wrong notions of men make them un
capable of working this conviction upon themselves by the law.
Secondly, Another reason is, a natural enmity to any such discovery,
which is universal in all men. There is nothing men more naturally abhor
than any thing tending to the rooting out those vicious habits they are
deeply in love withal. Aa men, when they know God, have no mind to
glorify him as God, so men, when they cannot avoid the knowledge of the
threatenings of God, have no mind to believe them and consider them as the
threatenings of God. Convincing arguments always meet with contradiction
from nature. It is for this very reason men hate the light, lest their deeda
should be reproved, their deeds they be convinced of : John iii. 20, ' Every
one that doth evU hates the light, neither cometh to the light, lest hia deeds

John XVI. 8, 9.] conviction of sin. 179
should be reproved ;' which light they would love weU enough were it not
attended with so unpleasing an effect. Our Saviour pronounceth it univer
sally of all mankind, ' Every one that doth evil hates the light ;' and who by
nature can pretend an exemption ? Not a man by nature but abhors more
to have a conviction of sin, than the hest believer abhors those deeds he is
convinced of; and thia makes the conviction utterly impossible by the mere
strength of nature. Hence we are compared to wild asses, that snuff up the
wind, endure hunger and thirst, undergo any inconvenience, rather than be
convinced of a miserable state, and submit to be reduced to a better. Hence
where do you find a man that yields to the first argumenta brought against
his lusts, but struggles and strives against such conviction ? Nay, do they
not cherish their beloved sins under rebukes, draw a curtain between
themselves and the law, and wUl see no faults in what they affect ? What
an irrational folly did possess the pharisees, who, because Christ by raising
Lazarus had got a name and a greater number of diaciples, would have killed
Christ and bim, as though that power that raised Lazarus, after he had been
dead three days, could not have preserved him from them, or, if they had
killed him, could not have raiaed him again, and restored life to him aa often
as they had stripped him of it, or turned them into their graves ! So hard
is it to convince men of sin, yea, and of common and rational truths, against
the overswaying love of their pasaiona and intereata. There is need then of
some superior power to set the light before men, and fix their eyea upon it ;
for naturally men reject all impressions which come upon them from any
declaration of truth, and are no more friends to it than darkness is in league
with light, and cannot from themselves have any due reverence to the word
on tbe account of the authority of it, and the holiness of God the author of
it, but endeavour to extinguish it as soon as ever they see any sparks of it in
their hearts.
Thirdly, The weakness and falseness of natural conscience ia another thing
that proves nature's insufficiency to such a work.
(1.) The weakneaa of it. Conacience, indeed, hath a natural power of
judgment, but not higher than the light in it. A clear light is necessary to
a right judgment ; and when there is a light in it, yet itself being dull and
sleepy, must be roused up to perform ita office. Aa original corruption hath
darkened the mind and enfeebled ihe will, so it hath darkened this faculty
(for there is no room in the house that is privileged from infection), and the
greater the strength of sin, the weaker is the sense ofit ; for the defilement
increaseth the insensibility, Eph. iv. 19, whichis the atate of men by nature,
it being the state of all the Gentiles. The fuller of dead works, the more
hstless must it be in its office ; for the strength of sin puts the conscience
under a restraint, and makes that a prisoner to it, which ahould be a spy and
monitor againat it ; ' who hold the truth in unrighteousness.' There is an
imprisonment of truth, and though conscience doth sometimes reflect the
light of the law upon the soul, yet because of its weakness it is as unable to fire
the soul as a small spark is to inflame a reeking dunghill, or a burning-glass
to flre anything when the sun is masked with thick clouds and fogs. Some
times conscience makes false determinationa and reflections for want of know
ledge ; sometimea no reflectiona by reason oi stupefaction by ain, which is the
effect of every sin, till it be roused by the voice of God. Perhaps Adam's
conscience might be put almost into as deep a sleep by sin as his body had been
by bia Creator when he took Eve out of it ; for though he was sensible after his
fall of his being stripped of his righteousness, yet he doth not seem to be con
vinced of hia sin tUl God had spoke, which awakened his conscience. Just
after by his sin he fell from so great and so happy an estate, the Scripture

180 chabnock's wobks. [John XVI. 8, 9.
giveth no remark of any aflfrigbtment he had till he heard the voice of God.
Prisoners are jolly in the gaol tUl they hear of the coming of the judge,
though they know the crimes they are guilty of In some, conacience is so
sleepy, or rather dead, that it may be said of them, as of those. Acts rix. 2,
who when they were asked ' whether they had received the Holy Ghost,' they
' had not heard of such a thing aa the Holy Ghost :' so these have not heard
of such a thing as conscience.
(2.) The falseness of conscience, and its easiness to be deceived, shews the
unlikelihood of nature's ever convincing. An ' evil conscience,' being opposed
to a ' true heart,' by the apostle, Heb. x. 22, ia a false conscience. The
falseness of conscience lies in not pressing what it knows. Every man by
nature hath the same general and natural notions which a renewed man hath ;
but conscience makes not the soul sensible of what it knows, by urging
things, and bringing them to a particular application, and drawing them out
in rank and file. Though it hath a commission as God's deputy, yet it
neglects its charge, is bribed, and overawed, like an officer in a town, who
neglects the trust reposed in him by the governor. It is apt to be deceived
by outward performances, which doth incapacitate it to convince men
thoroughly ; it is apt to have its mouth stopped by the husk of a duty in
stead of a kernel ; it troubles rather for gross sins than for spiritual ones ;
nay, it doth not ordinarily rebuke for any spiritual sin ; leaves off reproving,
and rather applauds men when they engage in outward performances ; saith,
' Well done, good and faithful servant ;' it is usually contented with the out
ward performance, though there be more of self in it than of aim at God's
glory ; with the work of the law, though there be not the power of the law
written in the heart. If it hath any voice at all, it is not loud, but faint, like
that of Eli to his sons. Do no more so ; and it is apt to speak peace when
there is no ground of peace. This is universally the disease of conscience in
natural men. It conspires with the other faculties, not to be injurious to
the carnal interest in the soul. There must therefore be, on the account of
its falseness and weakness, some higher power to rouse a sleepy conscience,
rectify a depraved conscience. Unless the eye be more piercing, the judg
ment more sound, conviction can have no progress. Until the buUet be shot
by the Spirit, it will fall short of the mark.
Fourthly, A fourth reason which shews the insufficiency of nature to such
an end is the false disguises of sin, and the pretences for it, which make the
universal conviction ofit impossible to nature. Besides those notions of sin
which naturally are in men's own minds, they are swayed much by the
common sentiments of others concerning this or that practice ; and when
any vice is esteemed a virtue, it is above the power of nature to affect the
heart with that which is commonly applauded as a matter of praise. The
sinfulness of actions which are attended with profit and honour is not easily
perceived ; the whole bent of nature stands in defence of them, interest,
profit, and credit ; whatsoever is dear to men, they are mighty champions for
it. Covetous, and ambitious, and proud men, and whosoever are guilty of
those sins that stream from these fountains, do not easily acknowledge their
crimes, becauae they lie hid in the heart, they continually beaiege the mind,
fill up all cornera of the soul, that true reason hath not room to lift up its
hand. Those that are given to sensual pleasures and intemperance appear
more easily to acknowledge their sins in the intervals of luat, because these
are more brutish ; but as for othera their sina are more refined, accounted
necessary and generous ; they have cloaks and covers for them of frugahty,
fortitude, &c. Whence it appears men are more easily brought to a sense
of, and turning from, brutish vices than from internal ones, those which spring

John XVI. 8, 9.] conviction or sin. 181
np from a root more fast settled in the heart, those vices which brmg in
honour, profit, and esteem, such being more dear to men than those of plea
sure, which may be laid aside, and men being at great pains in undertaking
to nourish their ambition. In some things, men have an imagination they
act generously and bravely, even in their vices, which renders them more
inflexible to any reflections of conscience, and shews a necessity of some
higher power to take off the mask of sin, and discover it without ita disguise.
Fifthly, The subtle evasions of carnal reaaon render the universal conviction
of sin impossible to mere nature. What glosaes vrill a winding wit put upon
sin, present evil as good, and good as evil ! Ever since man drew in the
serpent's breath, he hath imitated the tempter in this his masterpiece of
false representations. Excuses for sin are equally derived with the sin of
our nature from our first parents in their first sin. Adam and Eve did not
deny their crimes, but cast the blame from themselves, Adam upon Eve, Eve
upon the serpent. And Adam wraps God himself up in the society of his
crime, charging it on that snare that his wife waa to him. Thua great
sinners imagine themselves innocent, when they can excuse their ain by the
inducement of others, and the conatitution of their bodiea, as if anything
could force the will ; they will have subtle distinctions for the extenuating of
their sin, though their spots appear in all their garments, and may be seen
without searching for. Men will not many times believe themselves sinners,
by reason of the subtle distinctions that a corrupt wit will find out, though
their blackness be as visible as that of a negro, and argue against atrong
rebukea as much as a troubled conscience will against grounds of comfort.
Men naturally stand upon a sense of honour, are loath to condemn themaelvf s
under apparent crimes, and for fear of punishment will rather reflect upon
God, and by distinctions blunt the edge of his word. And there are other
corrupt reasonings, by promises of future repentance, hopes of mercy, (n-
titling presumptuous sms infirmities, and such aa all men by nature are
incident to, whereby they nonplua conscience and delude their souls ; and
though they confess sin in the general, yet they suspend aa to a particular
confession. Till this self-love be discovered and overawed by the Spirit,
little good is to be expected. There is therefore need of the Spirit, it^iy-^^in,
to confute these calumnies and stop men's mouths, and bring down the con
trivers and inventers of them to lick the dust. God only, who is omniscient,
and knows all the wards of the heart, can search the secret parts of it, and
bring sin to light, and the soul to spiritual reason.
Sixthly, The natural levity and inconstancy of the soul, renders it im
possible to nature to convince. It ia from this instability, those wrestings
of Scripture, and evasions to turn away the dint of a rebuking argument,
do arise : 2 Peter iii. 16, ' Which they that are unstable and unlearned, wrest
to their own destruction.' They are naturally like clouds which have no
certain basis, therefore as soon can a natural cloud fix as they. Hence,
men's conrictions are like fits of an ague, which have their intervals, and
at last wear quite away. Man can have no composedness nor consistency
in himself, while he is hurried about by various ends and objects, while in a
state of nature. All the power of nature can no more make an impression
on such fluid persons, than a man can draw a picture upon the water, or
plough the rivers, and make them receive seed and bring forth fruit. In
stability scatters and divides the powers of the soul, that they cannot unite
in any serious reflections. So that you see nature ia utterly insufficient,
and there is a necessity of some higher power than nature to convince the
soul of sin. I shall add a,
(3.) Third argument. As neither nature nor law can do it upon those

182 ohaenock's woeks. [John XVI. 8, 9.
accounts, and therefore there is a necessity of the Spirit for this purpose ;
bo it is necessary that thia thorough conviction which ends in conversion,
should be the work of the Spirit, in regard of the honour of God, that the
whole new state, with all its antecedents, aa weU as consequents, may be of
God ; that the hewing the stone, as weU as setting it in the buUding, the
preparations of the members, as well as uniting them to the head, may owe
itself only to the divine power, that aU cause of glorying in ourselves may
be cut off, according to the intent of the gospel. If a man should convince
himself, and make himself sensible of sin, though afterwards he should be
brought to a through conversion and close with Christ, yet the glory of the
first sense and preparation will be the glory of the flesh ; but all flesh, in
everything which concerns our recovery, must be silent before God. As the
Spirit doth all thinga about the head Christ, so he doth all things about
those he intends his members. As Christ was led by the Spirit to be
tempted by the devil, that he might have a sense of sin, and be acquainted
with the craft and subtilty of that adversary, which had brought all the dis
honour upon God, and sunk all mankind in miaery ; ao the Spirit doth con
vince his membera of ain, suits the word providentially to make impressions,
worketh and preserves these impressions in them, that the whole work, the
ploughing up the fallow ground of the heart, as well as the sowing the seed
in it, may redound to the glory of God in the entire praise of it.
So that, you aee, it ia necessary the Spirit should convince of sin. Nature
cannot do it, cannot convince of the root of sin, and it cannot convince of
the evil of sin, and it cannot convince of the latitude of sin, nor of unbelief
And the law, that cannot convince of unbelief, nor indeed of any sin, without
the Spirit's management of it, it being the sword of the Spirit. The reason
of the insufficiency of nature, which is, the wrong notions of things, the
blindness of mind under the gospel, and a natural enmity universaUy in
every man that doth eril against any auch discovery, the weakness and
falseness of natural conscience, and the false disguises of sin, pretences for
it ; all which render universal convictions impossible ; and ao doth the levity
and unstedfastness of the soul ; beside the necessity of it for the honour of
God. in. The third question is. How doth the Spirit work these conrictions ?
And before I speak to that, take only this caution. Though the Spirit doth
work these convictions in the hearts of men, and it is necessary he should,
yet slavish fears, desperation, and other sinful things consequent upon the
knowledge of ourselves, are not the work of the Spirit, and therefore do not
flow from him by any immediate impression of his upon the soul ; but they
are the consequent of this sight and sense men have of the dreadfulness of
their state, which the Spirit ahews them, by fixing their eye on the glass of
the law, and their thoughts upon their miserable condition. As when a wUd
beast is tied to a post, or shut in a den, the hand that fastens or shuts him
in is not the cause of his snarling, and tossing, and beating himself against
the wall ; this is a consequent of his own wild disposition, as being in such
a state ; or, as the wrath of God, which kindles hell, and locks and scorches
the damned in the perpetual prison, this as punishment and a physical evil
belongs to God, and is his proper act, but not those blasphemies and curses
which rise from the pain of the damned. If men in affiictions, which may
be remedied, do curse God, Isa. viii. 21, much more will it be consequent
upon an endless misery, where there is no hope of redress. It is impossible
that a man under punishment, without the hopes of a pardon, and being
whoUy corrupt, should have good thoughts of a revenging God. Yet though

John XVI. 8, 9.] conviciion of sin. 183
God inflict what is just, he doth not excite what is evil and unjust. So,
though the Spirit makes impressions upon men, discovera the misery of their
state, sets their sina in order before them, by the awakening of conscience;
and by his motion fixeth their minds on the consideration of them ; yet those
sinful fears, accusations of God, charges agamst God, are not the effect of
the Spirit in them, but the bubbling up of their own hearts naturally incident
unto that state they are apprehensive of And now to proceed unto that
Third question. How doth the Spirit work thia conviction ? The great
instrument whereby the work is wrought, ia the law ; he acts in such a
method in conviction as a Spirit of bondage, as he doth in assurance as a
Spirit of adoption. Aa he is a Spirit of adoption, the goapel is the instru
ment whereby he works assurance ; as he is a Spirit of bondage, the law is
the inatrument, which is in a way of syllogism. When he comforts, it ia in
this manner : ' He that beheveth shall be saved ;' but the soul assumeth,
But I believe, therefore I shaU be aaved. So it ia in thia of conviction,
'Every one that helieveth not, ahall perish ;' the soul assumeth. But I be
lieve not, therefore I shall perish. Every one that is unholy shall not see
God ; I am unholy, saith the soul, therefore I shall not see God. The first
proposition is the evidence of Scripture, the second ia the evidence of con
science, the third is the evidence of reason in a rational deduction. It is aa
a solemn court of judicature : the first proposition consists of matter of law,
He that beheveth not shall perish, the assertion of God ; and. He that ia
unholy shall not see God ; this is matter of law, the assertion of God. The
evidence as to matter of fact, ia given in the second proposition. But I be
lieve not, but I am unholy. The sentence is pronounced in the third,
Therefore I shall perish, therefore I ahall never see God. In the firat, the
soul is arraigned ; in the second, tried and cast ; in the third, condemned. The
inatrumenta then which the Spirit useth in convincing, are,
Firat, The law, which ia the rule whereby to judge of the moral good or
evil of actions ; and conviction is nothing else but the formal impression of
sin by the law on the conscience, or the reviving that which waa before im
printed ; the blowing off the dust from the letters of the law written in the
soul. The
Second instrument the Spirit useth ia the conscience, in the conviction of
the fact. This tells the soul of its breaking the law, and contempt of the
lawgiver ; flies in the face with a Thou art the man, and affects him as if
the law had pronounced him by name accursed ; upon which account con
science is called a witness, Rom. ii. 15. And when this cometh and gives
full evidence, the mouth ia stopped, Rom. iii. 19, and the soul is said to
die, Rom. vii. 9, ia no more able to answer the accusations of the law, when
applied by conscience, than a man deprived of life ia able to answer a word
at the bar, but remains as dead in law, under a sense of guilt. To assist
conscience in thia work, is the greatest work the Spirit hath to do, which
otherwise would be silenced by men's lusts, or bribed to give in a false, weak,
or shght witness, ignoramus, or mince the matter. Aa in the syllogism,
whereby we come to assurance, it ia the hardest matter to frame the second
proposition. But I beheve, but I love God ; the hardest matter to find out
the truth of grace ; ao it is the hardeat matter in this way of conviction to
find out sin, to be sensible of the guilt of sin. As many Christians do not
own and find the truth of grace, by reason of their fears, and doubts,
and darkneas, so many a ainner will not own his ain, by reason of his self-
love. Therefore the Spirit doth first work by the law, thia ia the breath of
his lips, wherewith he slays the wicked, Isa. xi. 4, which hath a greater force
in the hand of the Spirit, than the eloquence of the mightiest orator, and

184 chabnock's wobks. [John XVL 8, 9.
makes men fall down under the power of it. As conversion is a knitting
the heart and the gospel together, so conviction is a knitting the heart and
the law. As the Spirit dweUs in sons in a way of comfort, to make them
caU God Abba, Father ; so he is in sinners, in a way of conviction, to make
them regard God as a judge. As by the word men are forewarned from sin,
so by the word men are reproved for sin. This ia the Spirit's instrument,
for God doth not in an ordinary way act immediately, but useth instruments
in all his works ; not that we say that the law is the cause of salvation
(that is only by the gospel), — it is no more the cause of it, than the lancing
of a wound, letting ont the putrefied matter, is the cause of the cure, — but it
discovera the depth of the wound, and that corrupt matter which, residing
there, would hinder the cure, and feater, and end in putrefaction ; or, aa one
aaith, it ia but as a fiaherman beating the river, or troubling the water to
drive the fish into the net. The Lord drives men into the net of the gospel,
whereby they are catched for God. There are three acta of the law, justify
ing, directing, and conrincing ; the justifying act of the law ia out of doors,
and a condemning act stepped into the room, since men are ' concluded under
sin,' Gal. iii. 21-23. Man in his first creation stood in an indifferency to
the promises and comminations of the law, according as his carriage ahould
be, but when sin came, the promise of the law was of no force, because the
condition of obedience was not performed, whereupon man lay under the power
of the curse. The directing power of the law remains, aa a rule to guide us ;
for the work of Christ was to reduce us to obedience. The convincing power
of it is of perpetual use, for the discovery of the depth of sin in the heart :
Pa. xix. 12, ' Who can understand his errors ? Cleanse me from my secret
faults.' Of perpetual use even to believers too, in regard of the contest with
apiritual sins, even for the discovery of spiritual sins. There is a spiritual
use of a spiritual law, to manifeat thoae sins to a believer ; in which respect
it is not a terror to a believer, but a delight, because it discovers the ene
mies of God in the soul, and makes it run to the fountain of Christ's blood
in the gospel for the cleansing of them ; so that the more thia revealing
power of the law is used, the more occasion hath faith to manifest itself in
recourse to the goapel promise. In these two latter respects the law is of
constant and necessary use : the convictive is necessary to affect us with
sin, and the insufficiency of our own righteousness ; and the directive is not
destroyed, but enforced by the gospel. We must know ouraelves, and
know God ; the law giveth us a knowledge of God in his authority and
holiness, and a knowledge of ourselvea in our subordination and vUeness.
And, Firat, The Spfrit discovera sin by the law. It is the end of aU laws to
inform the understanding of what is to be done, and consequently of men's
deviation from them : and so absolutely necessary the law is for this dis
covery, that the apostle owns all his knowledge of sin to come from thence:
Rom. vii. 7, ' I had not known sin but by the law ;' by this ain ia revived :
Rom. vii. 9, ' When the commandment came, ain revived ;' as the mois
ture in wood is excited by the fire, wheezing out at the end, which waa not
diacerned before. The rectitude of the rule discovers the crookedness of
our nature ; the perfection of the law, the degenerateness of the soul ; the
purity of the law, the pollution of the heart ; the spirituality of the law, the
carnality of our minds. The rule being altogether excellent, discovers a
man altogether vile : Gal. in. 19, ' The law was added because of transgres
sion ;' to discover the filth, stench, and venom of a man's heart and
actions, and make him to lie under the condenmation of it, without any accu
sation of the righteousness of God. Hence it is said, that ' The law entered

John XVI. 8, 9.] conviction op sin. 185
that sin might abound,' Rom. v. 20 ; not to make it abound by encouraging
the commission of it, but by impressing the conviction. A man before
thinks himself a scanty and mole-hUl sinner, but after the sight of the law,
deep consideration, and the aense of it, he seeth himself a large and moun
tainous sinner, though he may appear small to the eye of man. And the
Spirit discovers by the law the extent of sin ; by the breadth of the law, the
Spirit helps us to measure the latitude of sin. Naturally we think not sin to
be so great as it is, but ita dimenaiona are seen through the glaaa of the
word, which shews it to be exceeding broad ; as a star which a child thinks
IS but a little spark, is known and discerned by an inatrument to be bigger
than the globe of the earth. The Spirit shewa the extent of the precept,
and thereby measures the wideneas of the sins ; he discovers the purity of
the precept, and thereby the filthiness of sin. And as he discovers sin, ao,
Secondly, Secret and lurking sins he discovers by the law. The Spirit,
by this diasecting knife, opens the entrails of the heart, to manifest the secret
holes and traverses of thia inward serpent ; as when the body is opened,
all the little stringa within are plainly seen to the back-bone, nr^ayriXie-
fiita,, everything in the whole composition of it lies open to public view,
Heb. iv. 12, 13. It dividea soul and spirit ; it discovers what cattle litter
in the affections and fancy. It doth unmask those spiritualised sins which
harbour in the understanding and will ; those luata which appear abroad in
the garb of rirtues, as acts of gallantry and generosity ; though they looked
like stars of the firmament, it shewa them to be but aome unhappy vapoura.
The Spirit by the word opens both heart, and mind, and affections ; the
spiritual and sensitive part of the soul of man brings the conscience, as he
did Ezekiel, from chamber to chamber, to see the vermin which crawl in
every part ; and as in dissection we aee the valvea and small fibres of the
body, so the thoughts and intents of the heart, the secret aims wherein the
spirit of wickedneaa lies, the counaels which gave the first bfrth unto sin, the
close intents that had a fair outside, like a venomous serpent in a golden
box, these the Spirit bringa to light ; it rifles the very cornera, and sheweth
the inwardest and the least thinga, and fetcheth up that mud which lay
under a clear stream, which conacience waa not acquainted with before. And
thia discovery of lurking sins is not from the innate power of the law, — that
hath not a power of omniscience, — but by the Spirit working by that law. It
is God that ' aearcheth the heart,' Jer. xvii. 10 It is God's heart, hke
Elisha, in 2 Kings v. 26, that goes with every man when he doth thia or that.
The Spirit doth work by the law, in the discovery of sin, both as to the ex
tent of it, and as to secret sins. So,
Thirdly, It discovers the wrath of God due to sin by the law. As the
gospel is a glass reflecting the glory and love of God upon the heart, so the
law is a pure glass reflecting the holiness and wrath of God upon the con
science. The gospel representa God upon a throne, vrith a sceptre of grace
and righteouaness ; the law exhibits him upon a tribunal of justice, with a
rod of iron and wrath. As the gospel ia called the ' word of reconciliation,'
so the law is the word of wrath ; it ahews a man lying under God's displea
sure at the brink of the pit, and holds him quaking over the smoke of hell.
Aa the gospel ia the miniatration of life, so the other is the ministration of
death ; it shews wrath entailed upon the least as well aa the greatest ini
quity, brandisheth and darta curses against the sinner. God is discovered
in arms againat the aoul, going forth conquering and to conquer, with death
and heU marching before him : Rom. ii. 8, 9, ' indignation and wrath, tribu
lation and anguiah, on every soul that doth evU.' Sin is shewn in its filthi
ness, and wrath in its dreadfulness ; sin, too, in its guilt. By the law we

186 chabnock's woeks. [John XV.I. 8, 9.
discern our debts, and are assured they must be paid. The law laya hold
of every amner, like that servant in the Gospel, and, with a dreadful voice,
claima the debt, ' Pay me that thou oweat !' That is the first thing the
Spirit works by the law as an instrument.
Secondly, The Spirit doth stir up the natural notions and acquired know
ledge in the mind in this conviction. He lets loose those truths in the heart
which were prisoners in the chains of unrighteousness, to be assistant in this
work, as invaders put arms into the hands of those prisoners which had been
under a force before. This work is the exciting and reflecting the light and
knowledge in the understanding upon the conscience, whereby the creature
feels the heat of the light, which in its direct beams he did not ; nor doth
knowledge swimming in the brain affect ; he blows up the sparks of reason
to a height, and, like the sun, draws forth the sap of those notions implanted
in the heart, making them sprout up according as he first set them. For, as
the sowing this seed was by the hand of the Spirit, so the improvement of
these principles sown is, by the breath of the Spirit, in a way of common
grace. He caused the birth, and he causes the growth too ; that which he
had sown he preserves and excites, ao that when these notions are excited
by the Spirit, men see double to what they did before discern of the secrets
of wisdom and righteousness, and accordingly that there are more transgres
sions according to the law of nature than men usually dream of, which makes
them justify God in the way of his judgments : Job. xi. 5, 6, ' Oh that God
would speak and open his lipa against thee, and that he would shew thee
the secrets of wisdom, that they are double to that which is ! Know, there
fore, that God exaoteth of thee less than thine iniquity deaerveth.' It is an
answer to Job's complaint, that his afflictions were without ground ; which
Zophar answers, that if the secrets of wiadom in the law of nature were
excited, it would discover sin enough to justify God in his proceedings.
The law of Moses was not in being in the time of Job, but in the original
copy, the law of nature, and the common notions of mankind. The Spirit
stirs up these in this conviction, and though the Spirit takes these, and
works by the excitation of natural light, yet he brings in alao another light,
because the chief conviction he aims at is the corruption of the state, not
only that of corrupt acts ; the necessity of a mediator and a sense of spm-
tual sins, which cannot be wrought merely by that light which is naturally
in the mind. It stirs up, therefore, principles already impressed, and intro
duceth principles not yet impressed, and binds both of them on the soul; for
it convinceth by way of argument, and therefbre its convictions must be
founded on somewhat which the soul knew before, or arise from a new light
attended with a greater evidence. Now, the Spirit of God doth not put out
nature by the shining of grace, but improve, perfect, and regulate it, putting
it into a right channel, making it to serve the ends of grace ; so in this act of
conviction, he maketh the natural knowledge subservient, and rouseth up that
knowledge which lay rusty and useless. There is use of this, for God acts
in a rational manner, that reason may be employed in this case ; hence are
his appeals to men (Isa. v. 3) of a depraved reason, ' 0 inhabitants of Jeru
salem and men of Judah, judge, I pray you, betwixt me and my vineyard.'
Had reason no competency at all to judge of the unprofitableness and the bad
return the vineyard had made to God, the appeal had been fruitless ; but the
appeal implies that even natural reason would have cast the verdict on God's
side ; so in conviction the Spirit doth stir up that natural light in the mind,
and that acquired knowledge that it hath to be assistant in this work.
Thirdly, The Spirit doth irradiate and enlighten the mind and practical
judgment. The Spirit bringa a man to belief of the truth in the word by

John XVI. 8, 9.] conviction op sin. 187
clear and undeniable reason, and hy rectifying and elevating the understand
ing. As he makes the characters written upon the heart legible, so he
enlightens the dim mind, and anuffa the candle of the Lord, that they may
be read, Prov. xx. 27, that thereby ' the inward parts of the belly ' may be
searched. In this regard he is called a Spirit of bondage ; not that he brings
us into bondage, but aa he opens the curtain of sin and the blind eye to see
the bondage sin hath brought it into. The truths of God in the word have
an objective light, and the Spirit doth enlighten the mind, not by discovering
new notions and giving new objects of knowledge only, but by creating a
dogmatical faith and an assent unto those principles, and helping us to
receive right and distinct notions of those things which are represented.
And it is such a faith which the Spirit in this work doth create, which is
not only apprehensive but quietative ; it not only apprehends the things
themselves, but the soul rests in them for truth, not that they are grounds
of comfort in themselves, but doth clearly assent to them for truth, and own
them, and fully assent unto them. There is a faith of assent common to men,
but the Spirit quickens thia faith in conviction that it hath a fuller prospect
of these things which he doth discover, which were weakly and imperfectly
assented to before ; and the soul weighs theae particulars which the Spirit
seta before it more aeriously than ever it did. This is a necessary work of
the Spirit, for a stupefied judgment is a bar to any recovery ; but when the
light of the word and the light of the mind meet together, the issue is a full
discovery of the motes in the soul and sink in the heart.
Fourthly, The Spirit excites and actuates the conscience, sets the con
science to smite, as David's heart smote him, upon the Spirit's touch by the
ministry of Nathan. Most men know such and auch actions to be sinful ;
they know unbelief to be a damning ain, God to be a righteous God, Christ
the only Saviour, yet how few know theae things convincingly, with an appli
cation of them to the conscience ! How few have the deacent from the spe
culative to the practical judgment, to be affected with them and with their
own deplorable state ! The Spirit, as it increaseth the hght, it doth sharpen
this faculty of conscience for self- reflection ; direct beams are darted in to
shew the object, and an edge is put upon the faculty to do its office. Light
is shot in upon the understanding by the Spirit in the word, and fire is
struck upon the conscience ; suitable passions are raised in the heart by
that light in the mind. As the Spirit of adoption giveth efficacy to the
gospel, in affecting his soul with righteousness, so, as he is a Spirit of
bondage, he giveth efficacy to the law to affect the conscience with guilt ;
he lets loose the natural activity of conscience, he arms it with a renewed
commisaion, he opena the mouth of thia herald of God, and makes it de
nounce dreadful things ; he enlargeth it to take in the impressions of wrath,
and transmit them to all parta of the man ; he reviveth the guilt, and rouseth
the conscience, the serpent in the bosom ariseth and hisseth, and conscience
in man being avt^akened, lashes him. Thus ain being revived, and conscience
awakened, they lay the soul flat and breathless. ' Sin revived, and I died.'
Guilt is so strongly reflected, that a man doth not simply understand him
self to be in a damnable state, but feels in himself the filthiness and misery
of that atate, and becometh a judge and witneaa againat himself, acknow
ledging the righteousness of God, and the unrighteousness of his nature.
Conscience, thus actuated by the Spirit, pleads sharply from the law against
the soul (aa a king's attorney doth againat a priaoner at the bar), takes off all
excuaea, beata it off from all apologiea made in its defence, and reproacheth
him for it. Job xxvii. 6. It brings not only the substance of sin but the cir
cumstances to mind, and what rebukes itself gave before to hinder the com-

188 chabnock's woeks. [John XVI. 8, 9.
mission, just as it wiU at the last day deliver those trutha that were suppressed
and clouded in unrighteousness, and usher them in aa so many speaking
witneaaes ; the memory ia also revived to assist conscience in this work.
Now, the Spirit only can excite conscience ; though conscience hath a power
to judge, yet it must have a light to judge by, and becauae it is sleepy and
dull, it must be soundly roused ; and therefore there is the aame need that
the Spirit should set conscience right, as any other faculty ; because that is
depraved, as well as the understanding is darkened and the will perverted.
Fifthly, The Spirit brings forgotten sins to mind, and presseth them upon
the conacience. Aa the Samaritan woman concludes Christ to be the Mes
siah, becauae he ' told her all that ever ahe had done,' John iv. 29, so the
renewing upon ns the sense of all that ever we did, ia an evidence of the
Spirit'a work. When old, forgotten ains are brought to light in the mind,
it is an effect of God's Spirit, who is greater than our hearts, and knoweth
all things. Thus the Spirit doth set in order youthful sins in old age, makes
men to 'possess the sina of their youth,' aa in Job; and gathers iniquities
laid in the dust together, upon the beating the drum of conscience, and fiUs
the aoul with the sense and consideration of them, and brings in an old score
of ain with many itema. Item, such a time a contempt of God ; such a time a
speculative wickedness ; such a time a quenching of the Spirit ; profane speech ;
swarms of vain thoughts and vile lusts ; the many aggravations of sin against
mercies, in the very face of God, when a pardon was offered ; rebeUion against
the light of conscience ; stifling holy motiona ; breaking the bonds of love ; the
influence our sins had upon others ; principlea and root of sin ; enmity to God ;
secret rising of heart against the purity of the law. Thus it brings sins
that were forgotten, and sets them home: Pa. cxix. 59, 'I considered my
ways.' He counted his ways and his sins one by one, as the word there
'signifies, as much as he could, and as the Spfrit of God directed. Though
many times the Spfrit laya one sin closest, yet all the rest are brought in,
and severally charged ; as in a pestilent disease all the humours wherevrith
the body wis troubled before run into that infectious diaease ; and the soul
is made to read thoae ains as plainly as if they had been committed but the
day before. A wicked man 'knoweth not whither he goeth,' 1 John ii. 11;
he hath no clear knowledge of the nature of sin and the dreadfulness of wrath.
But the Spirit in this work makes ua not only see sin, but giveth an intuitive
knowledge ofit; draws the veil from the face of sin, waaheth off its varnish,
pulls away its fine dress and attfre, and presents it as the greatest evil, and
in ita most Ethiopian deformity.
Sixthly, The Spirit fixeth the sense of the most terrible attributes of God
upon tbe soul in this work. His justice, eternity, holineaa, are brandished
against him, and mercy seems standing aloof from him. He makes him look
upon justice incensed, holiness disparaged, mercy slighted, power preparing
a Tophet of wrath, and kindling it against it, and eternity perpetuating the
punishment ; and hides all considerations of God that might give hope of rehef
Upon these perfections of God, which breathe terror againat the sins of men,
is conviction founded. Men naturally have a greater sense of God's mercy
than any other attributes, because mercy and patience are more continually
exposed to their view, in the warm sun, influences of heaven, fruitful showers,
and kindly provisions, which multiply the notion of his mercy in the minds
of men. And from those ideas, fortified by these common works of kindness,
and from self-love in men's breasts, doth arise men's confidence and presump
tion in the mercy of God. And therefore the soul is never soundly convinced
of its own natural state till self-love be shaken, and the other attributes of
God seriously pondered and owned. When the soul is in a dead sleep, there

John XVI. 8, 9.] conviction of sin. 189
is no consideration of justice; and when awakened by the law, without the
Bight of the goapel, and a discovery of his mercy in Christ, like Adam and
Eve the soul runs from God'a presence, and every voice of God is terrible ;
and finding himaelf culpable, and seeing nothing but a sea of sin, he fears
the justice of God, that the sovereign Judge of all tbe world will bring him
to a speedy account, and inflict that death that he knows himself worthy of
Now, the consideration of these attributes have in the holiest men always
caused in them reflections on their iniquities. Hence holy men in Scripture,
upon aome apparition of God, or an angel, were full of apprehensions of God's
holineas and their own impurity, which possessed them with expectations of
death, when they looked upon God aa a consuming fire, and themselves as
dry stubble, Ezek. iii. 6, Judges xiii. 22, Isa. yi. 6.
Seventhly, The Spirit of God removes, in this work of conviction, all the
former aupports whioh the soul leaned upon. It blows up aU the little castles
of defence, puffs them away as chaff, makes conscience work through all the
plasters laid on to assuage the grief, laya the soul naked without any cover
ing. The heart of man being stuffed with self-love, framea a multitude of
miserable comforters as weak as Adam's fig-leaves; but when the Spfrit
ariseth in the ministry of the law, he tears all those coverings, nonplusses
all those aubtile evasions, breaks all those props and crutches in pieces, and
casts down the soul before the foot of God's righteous judgment, that it dares
not cast a glance, a loving look, towards that Sodom which God hath fired ;
knocks off the hands from all those things whereby men would compound
with God and their guilty consciences ; all the strong reasonings for the life
of their lusts, and the presumptuous arguings for the salvation of their souls,
fall before the battery of the word, which like an engine plays against the
high-built and pleasant imaginations. He puUa up the foundation of their
own righteousness, strips it of its painted garment, and makes them look upon
their pretended beauties as loathsome deformities. When sin revives by the
commandment, the sinner dies in the former opinion he had of himself; the
sentence of death in himself is attended with death in all his comforts. And
upon this account afflictions are mighty helpful to this work, when the Spirit
sets in with them. When the supports of sin are drawn away, the evil of sin
is more seen, which was not observed by men in the midst of their wealth
and pleasure. When he ' holds them in afflictions,' then ' he shews them
their work and their transgression, wherein they have exceeded; he openeth
their ear also to discipline, and commandeth that they return from iniquity,'
Job xxxvi. 8-10. On thia account God takea afflictions as the proper season
to carry on this convincing work. For the rod puts life into the word, and
makes men look inward to their consciences, and outward to their actions.
When their former supports are pulled down about their ears, and conscience
' is quickened by the Spirit, then is the time for it to shew its commission ;
whereas in the hurry of pleasures it was wholly silent. And while the Spirit
doth arm conscience against a man, he doth suspend the force and fury of
his lusts, which before stopped the mouth of it.
Eighthly, The Spirit makes the soul intent upon the consideration of its
sin, and those evidences which are brought in against it.
(1.) Upon the consideration of its sin. The thoughts of his sin haunt
him hke so many ghosts, and conacience, like Zipporah to Moses, flies in his
face ; not once, but with a repetition, ' A bloody husband hast thou been
unto me.' It gives no respite, every thought ia a particular sting; wherever
he looks, ain stares upon him ; and wherever he is or moves, conscience is
with him, thundering in his ears the curses of the law, and flashing in his
face the fire of hell, and presenting the black scroll to his consideration.

190 chabnock's wobks. [John XVI. 8, 9.
His sin ia ever before him, which Job calla, chap. xiii. 27, a putting his feet
in the stocks. He cannot move but he feels the smart of his wounds at
every motion. The Spirit ' seals instruction ; ' he sets such a brand upon
the conscience, that all the art of men cannot raze it out ; it is held in by
the law, Rom. vii. 6, and ' filled with bitterness,' Job ix. 18. The Spirit
stakes him down, and pointa him to his sins. Lo, these are thy aina, and
these will be thy plaguea without a conversion. He will not let him take
one sweet draught, nor a mouthful of cool air ; he fixeth hia eyes upon sin
with sorrow, as much as his eyes were before upon it with joy. The soul
had heard a thousand times of its lying, swearing, drunkenness, unclean
ness, and other wickednesses ; the necessity of conversion, the misery of
hell, and the pleasures of heaven ; but all were vanishing sounds, tiU the
Spirit sounds the trumpet of the law, and fixeth trutha upon the conscience,
and maketh reason perform its office ; then he ' holds the eyes waking,' Ps.
Ixxvii. 4, and the aoul cannot speak of anything but its trouble. For as
the Spirit brings to remembrance the promises of Christ, and fixeth them aa
a ground of faith, brings to remembrance the precepts of Christ, and aettleth
them upon the soul as a ground of obedience, so, as a Spirit of bondage, he
brings the threatenings of the law, and leaves the stamp of them upon us,
that we cannot look off from them ; inlays the law in the heart as a law of
death, as in conversion and faith it is engraven as a law of life. Thus Christ
dealt with Paul ; Acts ix. 4, tells him of his persecuting, ' Saul, Saul, why
persecutest thou me ? ' When Paul would know who it was who spoke to
him : ver. 5, ' I am Jesus of Nazareth ; ' yet holds his eyes still upon his
sin, ' Jesus of Nazareth, whom thou persecutest.' These considerations
break in like a deluge on the soul, so that none can stop them, and they
attend the person at his bed, and table, and shop, and walk, and they in
corporate themselves with him. And the Spirit
(2.) Doth follow the soul with one word after another, and presseth and
urgeth more and more that which may make a thorough conviction. The
word to natural men is like a flash of lightning, that scareth and vanisheth ;
it is like an arrow shot against a brazen wall, that immediately falls down
again ; it is a glass wherein a man seeth hia face, and quickly forgets his
own physiognomy. But the Spirit in this work holds the glass before the
face, presseth upon the soul the pure interpretation, the sense and meaning
of the law, drives it deep, like a nail that cannot be pulled out, doth many
times providentially guide a man to those places of Scripture that sharpen
the conviction, and rend the soul wider, as a torn garment is by every nail
that catches hold of it ; and never leaves it till he brings it to subscribe, I
am the man whoae name is written here, I am the man who is meant in
thia curse. But then.
Ninthly, The Spfrit springs up fears in the soul at the consideration of this
state. Fears, so far as they are not sinful, are the work of the Spirit, as a
Spirit of bondage ; he concludes it under a state of unbelief, makes it under
stand the intolerableness and duration of its misery in that state, puts the
question to it, whether it can dwell with everlasting burnings ? The Spirit
presents it with a pure law, a righteoua judge, and a deserved wrath. Now
it is natural for any man under the just sentence of the law for a capital
crime, to be full of dread. There is fire and thunder in the particular
apphcation of the law, aa there waa in the first delivery of it on mount Smai ;
and since the transgression of the law, there is nothing but death, horror,
and tbe curses of it, ready to seize upon the soul. It may well set the
holiest men, when they examine themselves by it, on trembling, as Moses
did at the delivery of it, Heb. xu. 21. And indeed it is impossible for the

John XVI. 8, 9.] conviction of sin. I9I
Spirit to act, in an ordinary way, but according to the nature of that word
which is presented to the mind. If a promise be applied, the proper con
sequent of that is comfort ; if a threatening be impressed upon the mind,
the proper consequent of that is terror ; if a precept, the immediate opera
tion of that ia obedience. Therefore the Spirit can be no other but a spirit
of bondage, exciting troubles in the soul, as it works by the law, because
there is no promise of reward in that, but to those that perfectly obey. If
the law met with a pure heart, free from all taint of sin, the Spfrit would
engender comfort by it ; but since there are deep spots in the hearts and
natures of aU men, God by the law only persuades them of the truth of
that ; and it is -impossible that from the law alone anything should arise but
what is slavish. If the Spirit speak no other word but the law, it can pro
duce nothing but terror and condemnation. What terrors must then seize
upon the spirits of men, and what distresses be rooted in their souls, when
they consider themselves cut off from all hopes of mercy by the law, having
broken it, and no promise giving any ground of comfort, but a curse pro
nounced by the violation of it ? And how severe that is you may see : Gal.
iii. 10, ' Curseth is every one that continueth not in every thing to do it.'
Now when a man seeth he hath no title to heaven in regard of the curse, no
disposition to heaven in regard of hia nature, and that the curse of the law
is hia right before the legal bar, and beholds the sparklings of wrath, with
out any cloud to shelter him, can a man see this without self-condemning,
and a crying out, ' I am undone, I am undone ' ? When conscience is thus
awakened, sin thus presented, the law thua manifested, and the soul held
down to the consideration of all, it is as impossible it can be without in
ward convulsions, aa the ground without earthquakes which hath air in its
bowels without any vent. This thunder from Sinai raiseth nothing elae but
blackness, and darkness, and storms in the region of the soul.
Lastly, The Spirit, in a saving conviction, brings the soul after this wound
ing to a self-debasing and humiliation. Man ia the most backward in the
world to the charging guUt upon himself he is more skilful at self excuaea
than self-indictments ; but the Spirit brings the soul to comply with the end
of the ministration of the law, which is, ' that every mouth may be stopped,
and all the world become guilty before God,' Rom. ui. 19. By thia revela
tion of the secrets of the heart, and the urgency of conscience, the over
powering work of the Spirit, the soul makes a positive conclusion against
itself to the glory of God, 1 Cor. xiv. 25. Thus by sharpening his arrows
in the hearts ofhis enemies, Ps. xiv. 5, he makes hia enemies faU under
him, in an acknowledgment of his righteousnesa and power, and the unlike-
nesa of their hearts to the purity of the law ; not extenuating the guilt, but
loading themselves with it to a self-abhorrence ; abhorring themselves in
dust and ashes, counting themselves as dead dogs, to violate so hbly, right
eous, just, and good a law; and turning all their self-righteousness to shame,
heartily wishing those sins which gall them had never been committed. And
after thia, when tbe gospel is presented, the soul enters into debates with
itself, and makes a judicious comparison between the first covenant, and
condemnation by that, and the second covenant, and life by that. Here are
flames of wrath, and there are rivers of joy ; here ia a lake that burna, there
ia a paradise that refresheth ; here is a flying roll, full of curses, which will
seize upon me, there is a rich gospel, full of blessings, that ia offered to me ;
here is death to sinners that will not have God to reign over them, there is
life to believera that submit with the obedience of faith. If I ain while I
live, I must perish when I die ; I must be aaved by grace, or be puniahed
by wrath. And shall I sin away my hopes, to faU into a miserable eternity ?

192 chabnock's wobks. [John XVI. 8, 9.
shall I ain myself to death, when the promise of grace is freely made to me
in order to my salvation ? Thus the soul ia brought to a sense of sin by
the law, and the insufficiency of the creature, and then welcome Chriat, and
gospel, and covenant, and promises of grace ; welcome the yoke of Christ.
And when it cometh to thia, then conviction enda, hath its perfect work,
concluding in a thorough conversion and acceptance of Christ.
IV. The fourth thing ; what sins, or what in sin the Spfrit doth chiefly con
vince of ! The conviction by ^ny other cause is partial, it ia hut half baked,
roaat on one side, and raw on the other ; the Spirit's conviction is universal,
he holds a right rule to the crooked heart ; he measures all the dimensions
of the soul, and of sin in it, considers root and branch, leaves and fruit. As
the Spirit in a good man mortifies all sin, cleanses from all sin, so in this
work he discovers all sin.
First, The Spirit usually singles out some one sin at the first to set home
upon the soul ; sometimes some base unworthy action, some blasphemous
word, some disparaging thought of God, some captain and master sin, which
is first brought out to face the soul, and presented in its hideous shape :
as crucifying the Saviour of the world was charged by Peter upon the Jews,
Acts ii. ; fornication upon the woman of Samaria, by Chriat, John iv. 18.
As the Spirit of adoption, in working assurance, evidenceth to the soul some
one particular grace which is wrought in the soul, whereby he may be able
to judge of his state ; ao, as a Spirit of bondage, he presseth aome particular
sin at first, whereby a man may judge of hia deplorable condition. Some
one sin the Spirit takea hold of, to begin this work of conviction. But
though one sin chiefly sticks in the conscience at first, yet in the Spirit's
work all others do rush in afterwards to have their share. When one bee
_ cometh forth and stings one that hath disturbed the hive, the rest come out
to revenge the quarrel ; or when one mastiff sets upon a passenger, all the
rest will come barking in. The guilt of one sin is let loose upon the con
science ; not that the work enda here (for then the sonl might be lost), but
thia is an introduction. Judas's thought dwelt only upon one sin. Mat.
xxvii. 4, betraying innocent blood, that did affect him ; but he never searched
further into the kennel, never into the depravation of his nature. But the
Spirit begins at one, and leads the aoul from chamber to chamber, from lust
to lust, till it hath viewed the whole den by degrees ; for he doth not shew
all at once, that the soul for whom he hath kind thoughts may not faU
before him.
Secondly, The Spirit usually convinceth the soul first of gi-oss sins. He
begins with these, because they are more legible and obvioua by natural
light, which of itself condemns them, and seta the aoul speechless. As in
the siege of a town, batteries are planted against that part of it which is
weakest. Sins in the conversation fare more visible than those that lie
secret in the heart, other sins are obscured by these outward ones, as stars
are by a bigger light, and a little spot by a greater stain ; these are more
visible to the inward senses, and more easily read by conscience, by prin
ciples of reason which rise up in accusation of them. David's murder and
adultery first affected his conscience by Nathan's ministry, but in the pro
gress he complains of his hypocrisy, Ps. li. 10 ; of those sins which poured
in their streams to the increasing that river, those auxiliaries which had
contributed their assistance to maintain his heart in its hardness for that
sin. As in thankfulness one great mercy appears, but when that is dissected,
the whole train of mercies appear ; so in conviction, one gross sin first ahews
itself, and when this is discerned, the whole litter comes in view. Christ

John XVI. 8, 9.] conviction of sin. 193
rouseth Paul for his persecution firat, but after, if spread further on his
conscience ; for he acknowledgea himaelf not only a persecutor, but a blas
phemer and injurious. The Spirit holds the conscience to the visible letter
of the law before he applies the invisible spirit of it to the heart, and affects
the heart with that which is biggest, because of its nearness, rather than
others, which, though as bad or worse, seem less by reason of their remote
ness. Thirdly, The Spirit from thence proceedeth to the conviction of the bosom
sin. All meh worship some golden calf, set up by education, custom,
natural inclination, or the like ; and while a Delilah lies in the bosom and
engrosseth the affections, the soul cannot be set with its love upon God ; and
if the heart be disaffected to this, the others are more easily hated. When a
general is taken, the army runs. This is the great stream, others but rivulets
which bring supply. The disaffecting the soul to this, facilitates the re
maining work, because this is the strongest chain wherein the devil holds^^
man, the main fort. The Spirit fights against the lighter parties that come
forth, but chiefly against that which hath been the great commander of all
the other forces against God, and the greatest confldence of the devil. As
a wise general directs his force against the stoutest body, wherein the
strength of the enemy conaiata, when that ia worsted, the arms presently
fall out of the hands of the rest. Other sins are as the stragglers of an
army, by the routing of which the victory is not obtained, but by the shatter
ing the main body. The Spirit doth chiefly convince of this bosom sin.
Violence was the soldiers', extortion was the publicans' sin, and the Spirit
directs John Baptist against theae ; hypocrisy was the darling iniquity of
the pharisees, Christ plants his battery most against this ; Paul, in his whole
progress after conversion, abhors most his persecution. As sanctification is
a cleansing a man from hia iniquity, so is a conviction of the Spirit, a dia*
covering to a man his proper iniquity, Ps. xviii. 21.
Fourthly, Thence the Spirit directa the soul to a sight of its corruption
by nature, opena the root of bitterness, makes us smell the sink of sin,
discovers the dunghill whence all these little serpents derived their life and
strength, shews us the rotten core as well aa the worm-eaten skin ; that the
nature of the person lies in wickedness, as a mole in the earth, or a carcase
in putrefaction, 1 John v. 19, all under sin, no good spring in the heart ;
that there is poison in the heart, that taints every work of the hand, ima
gination, fancy, thoughts of the mind, and motions of the will. He brings
a man from the chamber of outward to the closet of inward sins, until he
arriveth to the large room of nature ; bids him see if he can find out one
clean corner in the heart, and so conducts him to the first sin of Adam,
makes him behold the first fountain whence all issued, and all little enough
to make the proud heart stoop to God. He makes him consider he is
deeply concerned in that first sin, though so many revolutions of years have
passed. This makes a man vUe in his own eyes, that he cannot look upon
himaelf, but with confusion and an universal blush. God looks to this sin
of nature as the ground of punishment : Gen. vi. 5, 6, ' The imagination of
the heart was only evU,' and therefore it repented God that he made man
on the earth ; therefore the Spirit doth affect moat with this in conviction.
As Christ came to cure the wound of nature, so the Spirit shews the im
purity of nature in order to that cure; he would not else act upon the
foundation Christ had laid. He is aent to convince men of their need of
Christ, therefore of that which lays men under the greatest necessity of Christ,
which is the violation of the first covenant, and the evil consequents of it.
VOL. IV. N

194 chabnock's woeks. [John XVI. 8, 9.
As the Spirit in mortification atrikea to the root of sin, so in conviction he
digs to it ; as in sanctification he cleanses from the sink of ain, ao in con
viction he shews it. Christ, in his discourse with Nicodemus, lays this
open to him, who thought the doctrine of the necessity of regeneration a
atrange kind of discourse, and must needs think so, untU he understood, John
iii. 6, that 'that which is bom of the flesh is flesh,' that nature waa uni
versally depraved. David begins with a sense of his adultery in his con
riction, but traceth up his sin to the spring, his natural conception, Ps.
li. 5. He followeth the young cubs to the old one's den, where he found
sin's mark upon every member at his first formation. If the Spirit did not
convince of this, he did httle or nothing to the purpose ; for aa long as we
think there is any good ui us, we shall depend upon it, and never go to
Christ. But when we see the ranning issue of nature, as well as the otlt-
flowings of nature, then we shall with open arms fly to him. To be ignorant
of this, and complain of other sins, is a sign of conscience but half awakened.
This ia the proper work of the Spirit, and it cannot be done without this ;
the branches and fruit are visible, ao are the beams and rafters of a house,
but the root and foundation hea under ground. The Spirit ahewa this cor
ruption of nature not by a glimmering but clear light ; not only shews a man
that he is faUen, but makes him see the heavens in their glory, from whence
he fell ; heU in ita misery, to which he fell. He affects him with his nature,
as the seminary of all sin, as a womb to prepare and ripen ain, until a suit
able temptation is offered to give birth to it.
Fifthly, The Spirit convinceth of the evil nature of sin ; and this ia a
necessary work of the Spirit. Aa in stri-ving against it, the renewed soul
quarrels with it as it is sin, ao in a thorough conviction the Spirit doth un
mask it aa it is sin ; he presents it under those considerations upon which
the aoul is to fight against it ; he evidenceth it sensibly to be enmity to
God, to his essence, attributes, his law, turning the back upon God with
the greatest scorn, and lifting up the heel against him, Jer. xxxii. 33,
endeavouring to despoil God of his government (whence sinners are said to
be without God in the world), casting the holy law behind their backs, pre
ferring a dirty creature before the Creator, a base lust before a blessed
Jesus. He doth evidence every ain to be idolatry, an implicit adoration of
Satan : ingratitude, because our mercies are received after our lives were
forfeited ; theft, in robbing God of that reverence that ia due to him, and
the revenuea of his glory ; unbelief, not believing his promises whereby he
allurea, nor his threatenings whereby he scares; unfaithfulness, in breach of
covenant, and abundance more bound up in the womb of sin ; this the
Spirit doth convince a man is in the nature of sin, in every ain. Now, the
Spirit ahewa sin to be an injury to a gracioua God, impurity, disingenuity
against a holy God, disloyalty to our supreme Lord, a breach of a holy
and righteoua law, a atab to the heart of Christ, a shedding the beat blood
that ever was, and auch a heinous thing as is not to be remitted without the
blood of God. As the Spirit's second conviction, of the righteousnesa of
Chriat, is as it is the expiating cause of the sin of man, so his first discovery
of sin is, as it appears to be the occasion of the death of Christ. Without
this conviction of the evil nature of ain, the Spirit is not like to attain its
end ; for there cannot be a conversion till a man be sensible of what sin is
in its own nature, aversion from God, alienation and contrariety to him.
Sixthly, The Spirit doth convince of the filthiness and poUution of sm.
Sin is the contagion of the soul, the universal stain of nature ; nothing but
pollution succeeded in the place of origiaal purity. The Scripture doth set
forth sin to us under all the vilest terms, calls it an Ethiopian blackness,

John XVI. 8, 9.] conviction of sin. 195
spots, mire, dirt, dung, plague, ulcer, sore. As there is a saltness in every
drop of water in the sea, so there is a filthiness in every action of sin. The
Spirit discovers the naughtiness of the heart, and the nastineaa of lusta,
being more loathsome than toads, and infectious than plaguea : Isa. Ivii. 20,
the wicked man's heart is like the sea, ' casting up mire and dfrt.' The
Spirit in this work doth (as it were) spread dung in the face of the sinner,
he ahews what slime and frogs it hath left behind in every part it hath
touched, that he may feel as well as see the loathsomeness of it. When the
Spirit. cometh thus as a judge into the soul, though we seem to be washed
with snow-water, and our hands appear clean, yet we shall be as plunged in a
ditch, that our own clothes wiU abhor us, Job ix. 30, 31. Then a man
sees himself bemired from head to foot, like one over head and ears in a
common sewer. By seeing original sin, we see the defilement of it, how it
hath infected the whole nature ; and that human nature is not like a river to
purify itself, but its mud ia increaaed rather than diminished. If the Spi^t
should stir up all the stench of sin, and unmask all ita ugliness, without
making any further progress, utter despair, fury, confusion, self-hatred,
would be the effect of it. The Spirit in this work muat needs discover this
filthiness, if he attain his end in it. For as the soul in sanctification ia to
purge out ain by the strength of the Spirit, so it is necessary by conviction
it should see the filth of that that is to be purged out, as an incentive to
cleanse it. No soul vrill hate it, no soul will move its hand to its expulsion,
till it be stripped of its painted colours, till it be shewn in its native black-
neaa, till the aerpent be atripped of hia akin, and manifested in the venom
and poison of its nature. Cain saw his sin in the wrathful effects, as it was
not forgiven, but not in the polluting effect, as the blood of his brother had
defiled his conscience. When we see tbe guilt, it terrifieth us ; and the
filth, it shameth us : the one makes ua deaire ease, the other cleansingif
Without this aight we cannot justify God in his righteousnesa, nor admfre
him in his patience, that he did not long aince fiing such nasty vessels on
the dunghill ; without a aight of this we can never hate sin spiritually.
Senaiblenesa of the wrath that ia due to it may make us fear it, but it is
sensibleness of the filthiness of it that must make ua loathe it. Both these
are the designs of the Holy Spirit in conviction, to make God appear admfr-
able, desirable, and ain appear hateful. Then,
Seventhly, The Spirit convinceth of apiritual sins, and this is the great
work. It convinces of the corruption of nature, the nature of sin, and the
filth of sin ; but it presseth moat upon apiritual sins, the firat motiona, aelf-
conceit of our own worth, pride againat God, unbelief, and the like. Con
science hath a natural edge to wound a man for those sins which render a
man inexcusable by the light of nature ; but some sins lie remote out of
sight, as apiritual wickedness in the high places of understanding, vrill, and
affections, yea, and of conscience itself ; a clearer hght and a more piercing
principle is requisite for the discovery of theae. Drunkenness, murder,
luxury, theft, ka., are sina condemned by the general consent of nature ;
the works of the risibly defiled flesh are manifest, but the works of refined
flesh he closer in the inward corner, and are not so easily discovered, though
there is a greater defilement in these than men commonly imagine. Other
sins disgrace us more in the eye of men, and these defile ua more in the eye
of God. The soul, which ought to be a living temple for God, is defiled by
these sins, which is as if the throne of a prince should be besmeared with
dung. That is worse in the eye of God, which conaists in a conformity to
the devil, God's great enemy, than that which conaists in a conformity to
the bratish creature, as sins of the flesh are. They are the strength of sin,

196 chabnock's wobks. [John XVI. 8, 9.
the heart and hfe of the body of death, the main fort, the other ains are but
the outworks. The great end of the Spirit ia to convince of these. The out
works must he first taken, therefore gross ains must be first known ;_ yet
there is no hopes of conquest whUe the main strength remains invisible.
Aa aanctification begins at the sins of the flesh, but grows up to a cleansing
from spiritual sins, ao muat a sense of sin in order to sanctification sail the
same course. Theae being the subjects of the Spirit's sanctification, as that
wherein the enemy's chief atrength lies, are the subject of conriction too ;
and herein consists the spirituality of conviction. Aa the atrength of an eye
appears in discovering the spots in the sun, which he covered with a rich
robe of light, so the strength of conviction in the spirituality of it is dia
cerned in the eye'a discovering the stains in the heart, which are covered
with a beautiful cloak of outward morality. When sciences are learned, the
rudiments and more obvious principles are known before the mysteries are
understood, and men grow up from a common to an abstruse knowledge ;
so the Spirit leads us from a sight and sense of more risible, tUl it dives at
length to the secrets of sin, to the deceivableness of unrighteousness in the
apiritual antichrist working in the soul. Eo spiritual conviction without a
conviction of spiritual sina. A natural man may by natm-al conscience be
convinced of great sins against the light of nature, as a dim eye can read a
great print ; but such are usually most sensible of ains against the second
table, or more open sina against the first ; but the Spirit convinceth of the
more inward imperceptible sins, affects it with those against both tables.
Paul was convinced not only of the sins he acted without, as his persecution,
but of sins dwelling in him, springing up in him, and discovering themselves
by their motions in him. And,
Eighthly, The Spirit convinceth the aoul of its own impotency and weak
ness. He ahews the sinner hia filth and his chains ; how luat brings guilt
and slavery ; how his understanding is deprived of true hght, and his wUl of
true liberty ; whence there is an utter inability to make up the breach
between God and the soul, from whence his best righteousness smeUs rank,
and contracts a taint from that corruption which is derived from Adam unto
the whole human nature. Men naturally glory in their own power, they
think grace no more than walking according to the rules of blinded reason,
they understand not the depth of their wound, nor their weakness by it.
Sins of infirmity they think they have, which are to nature only like the
scratch of a pin, not like the stab of a sword ; they think their vitals are
sound and strong still. But the Spirit conrinceth the soul that her wings are
broke, and her feet crippled, and her hands possessed with a dead palsy ; that
man hath an universal impotency, spiritual feebleness, his weakness as incu
rable as his wickedness, that he can no more strengthen himself than purge
himself, Rom. vii. 15. The Spirit convinceth man that hia best strength is
but a shadow of righteousnesa, that as he waa mutable in righteousness in
innocency, so since the fall he ia immutable to sin, and unable to turn from
it ; that he is a slave to his lusts, held in chains tUl they be knocked off, shut
up in a prison that he cannot break, and under the power of a jailor that he
cannot conquer. Without this he would think to lick himself whole, and
never lie sighing and sobbing at the foot of Christ. Though a man naturally
justify himself, yet when the Spirit deals with him, overturns aU hia props,
and discovers him overgrown with feebleness aa well aa ainfulness, he cries,
like Job, chap. ix. 20, 21, ' If I justify myself, my own mouth shall condemn
me : if I say, I am perfect, it ahall also prove me perverse. Though I were
perfect, yet would I not know my soul ; I would despise my hfe.'
Ninthly, He doth continually convince of the consequences and demerits

John XVI. 8, 9. J conviction op sin. 197
of sin. He doth dissect sin, and shew it in its circumstances, and he doth
convince and set home upon the aoul the demerit of ain ; and (though he
doth also propose the gospel) he sets home that wrath which is deserved by
it. For he speaks a language quite contrary to that of the devil to our first
parents, persuading Adam that no wrath would ensue upon it ; that he should
meet with life in eating the forbidden fruit. The Spirit's method is contrary
to that of the devil ; death ia the wagea of every iniquity. You shall be as
gods, aaith Satan ; you have made yourselves like devils, saith the Spirit ;
are transformed into the devil's nature, fallen into the devil's condemnation.
The Spirit sets home what it deserves at the hands of God ; although he doth
propose the gospel, yet he affects the soul with what sin hath deserved.
V. The fifth thing is, What the difference is between the convictions of the
Spirit by this or that instrument, hy nature, law, and gospel. What differ
ence there is between the Spirit's setting sin before us in a way of conviction,
and Satan's setting sin before us, who doth interest himself sometimea in this
conviction of ain, when it is attended with much terror ; what the difference ia
between the sense of sin barely from natural principles, and a sense of sin
that is wrought by the Spirit ; then what the difference is between a legal
and an evangelical conviction.
1. Though there are some beams of candle-light in nature, which make
a discovery of some unrighteousness, whence arise rebukes of conscience,
yet nature is not able to furnish us with a full conviction, and such a one as
is necessary for our repair. Blind nature cannot see the rubbish, much less
remove it ; depraved nature is not sensible of all its crookedness, much less
can it rectify it : it cannot hew and prepare itaelf for the introduction of the
image of God. The higheat natural improvements of our natural faculties
cannot guide us into the close dens and chambera of sin, and give us a tru^
prospect of the poisonous entrails of it. Nature may spring up some good
operations in the heart, take nature in its latitude, what aman maybe in his
natural state, before his conversion to Christ ; nature as it is propped up by
the mediation of Christ, and as there are some commendable relics left in it,
there are still some inbred principles which bring forth many excellent thinga
according to their proportion ; as there is virtue in the earth since the curse
of it after man's fall, to bring forth many excellent plants and medicinal
herbs. But theae convictions by nature are,
First, Light and uncertain, of a short duration ; they are sudden qualms
and fits upon some observation of outward judgments. As all judgments are
sent to make men sensible there is a God in the earth, and that there are
unrighteous actions that are displeasing to him, upon these judgments there
are some reflectiona in a natural conscience, some aense of God, what is due
to ain, and what deviations are from him ; but they continue no longer than
the cause that raised them ; they are sudden frights and startings, which soon
settle again, as in a sudden fright and start nature is speedily reduced to its
former temper, and the blood that waa put on the sudden into another mo
tion is quickly brought to its former consistence. They are usually like a
land-flood, which causes an inundation, hut sink not into the roots of the
soul : Ps. ix. 21, they are ' put in fear,' and while they are in fear, they
' know themselves to be but men.' It ia a work not so much upon the judg
ment as upon the affections, therefore it ia like a fire falling upon flax, and
other combustible matter, which flames and expires, and you see its death
almost as aoon as it begins to live ; whereas, those conrictiona that arise
from the Spirit settle upon the judgment, and, like a fire in a log of wood,
are kept alive in the soul, eat into the soul, dive into the bottom, produce

^98 chabnock's woeks. [John XVI. 8, 9.
serious and lasting affections. Conscience is staggering and unfixed, there
fore whatsoever ariseth from it, partaketh of the uncertain nature of the
cause. We shall be moveable in our affections, unless first stedfast in our
judgment ; until then, there can be no abounding in the work of the Lord.
The apostle makea one the cause of the other : 1 Cor. xv. 58, ' Be stedfast
and immoveable, always abounding in the work of the Lord.' Firat a sted
fastness in judgment, and then a settlement in the affections, and then an
abounding in practice. No conriction can fasten in a rolling and unballasted
mind, no conriction that ariseth from nature. Besides, fear is an unwelcome
paaaion, aa love is a delightful one ; nature ia held longer in the chains of
love than in the fetters of fear : the one it hugs and embraceth, the other it
knocks off. The whole course of nature strives against flashes of fear, and
will not endure the object of it ; not invite and encourage its stay, but rather
is up in arms against it ; and, upon thia account, thoae convictions that arise
barely from natural principles, from anything of bare nature, are not of long
duration. Any conviction from nature is like the smart of a prick of a pin
in the flesh, which is soon forgot ; a conviction by the Spirit ia like the stab
of a sword in the heart. The arrows of nature are easily plucked out, but
God's arrows stick fast. Job vi. 4. Nature likes not to retain anything of
God in its knowledge, Rom. i. 28 ; but the Spirit imprints things and holds
them upon the aoul, binda his corrosive to it, that it cannot shake it off.
Secondly, Convictions by nature do at best but stand at a stay ; they are
not growing. If the convictions by nature do remain, yet they are not
growing conrictiona, they gather not strength and perfection every day ; if
they do not decay and fall, as a aeeming star, into duat and rottenness, yet
they rise not up into a stronger light, are not in a atate of progreaa, but are
stinted to low meaaurea. If they do seem bigger, it is by an external addi
tion from multiplied causes and renewed observation of judgments, not from
any internal principle of an enlightened mind ; but, in the conviction of the
Spirit, the light yesterday waa as the light of a torch, to-morrow as the moon,
and stUl rising till it be as the sun, which discovers the filthiness and little
motes of the heart, as the sun doth the filthiness as well as the beauty of the
earth ; and this light will increase sevenfold, aa the light of aeven days put
into one : Prov. iv. 18, ' The path of the just ia as the shining hght, that
shineth more and more unto the perfect day.' His path from hia firat step
ping into anything that tends to it, is aa the shining light, which shines more
and more unto the perfect day ; whereas the way of the wicked is as dark
ness : a sudden gleam of light hghting upon him and vanishing, leaves hia
eye under more darkness than before. The Spirit makes a progress from
the first step towards righteousness, tiU the dawning of the day of righteous
ness in the aoul. Aa Christ came not only to give life, but to give it more
abundantly, John x. 10, so the Spirit giveth not smaU flashes of hght in the
mind and conscience, but an abundant and growing light. Usually, convic
tions of nature do atand at a stay ; nature will not row long against the
stream, but at last be carried down by its force. Talents not improved are
quickly lost, and plants, when they begui to wither, never cease till quite
blasted, unless influenced afresh by the beama and showers of heaven.
Thirdly, Natural oonvictiona arise from some external cause, spiritual from
the word imprinted upon the soul. Natural convictions are, from some
natural outward cause, only from the sight of judgments on othera, or some
personal afflictions on themselvea ; but the word is the aword of the Spirit,
Ephes. vi. 17, whereby he cuts open the sonl. By this he did execution
upon thoae whoae hands were red with the blood of Christ, Acts ii. This
is always his instrument to cut, though he useth judgments and afflictions

John XVI. 8, 9.] conviction op sin. 199

•

as whetstones to sharpen the edge, or as a mallet to strike it in the deeper.
David, a most intelligent person, well skilled in natural notions, was not
convinced of hia sin of murder and adultery by any immediate excitation of
hia natural principlea, or thoae apfritual notions in his mind, without the
instrumentality of the word in the mouth of Nathan ; that man of under
standing was not sensible of his sin, till Nathan came with a message from
God, and upon this alarm the Spirit arms his memory, and conscience, and
understanding, to carry on the work, 2 Sam. xii. 7, 8. The filthy soul and
the pure word are brought together when a apiritual conviction is wrought,
and it discovers milliona of loathsome lusts which the dim light of nature
could never discern. That is the first thing ; the difference between the
convictions of nature and the Spirit.
2. There are also differences between legal and evangelical conrictions.
And, First, In regard of the principles whence they proceed.
(1.) A legal conviction ariseth from a consideration of God's justice chiefly,
an evangelical from a sense of God'a goodness. A legally convinced person
cries out, I have exasperated a power that is as the roaring of a lion, a jus
tice that is aa the voice of thunder ; I have provoked one that ia the sovereign
Lord of heaven and earth, whose word can tear up the foundations of the
world with as much ease aa he eatabhshed them. This is the legal convic
tion. But an evangelically conrinced person cries, I have incensed a good
ness that is like the dropping of the dew ; I have offended a God that had
the deportment of a friend, rather than that of a sovereign. I have incurred
the anger of a judge, saith a legalist ; I have abused the tenderness of a
father, saith an evangelically conrinced person. Oh my marble, my iron
heart, against a [patient, wooing God, a God of bowels ! It makea every
review of acts of kindness to be a sting in the conacience ; it makes auch^
person miserable hy mercy, and scorches him with the beams of goodneas ;
turns the honey into a bitter piU, and useth a branch of the balsam tree as
a rod wherewith to lash him. 0 wretch, to run from so sweet a fountain
to rake in puddles ! to rush into a river of brimstone, through a sea of good
ness ! What a cut is it, when ingenuity is awakened, to reject a natural
goodness, much more an infinite goodness ; to reject the goodness of a man,
much more that of a God ; the goodness of a friend never provoked, much
more the goodness of a God that had been ao highly incensed ! There is a
torture of heU ui both, kindled by the breath of the Lord ; iu the one by the
breath of his wrath, in the other by the breath of his goodness. One is in
flamed by justice to a sense of rebeUion, the other by goodness to a aense of
his own rileneas. This is that which was promised should be in gospel
times, that in the latter days men should fear the Lord and his goodneas,
Hos. in. 5. That is a true evangelical conviction, that springs from a thorough
sense of God's goodneas, when the goodness of God excites ingenuity, as weU
as the majesty of God strikes a terror.
(2.) A legal conviction springa from a sense of God's power, an evangehcal
from a sense of God's holineaa. Power is the relief of a friend, and the
terror of an enemy. Faith pitcheth upon the power of God for its establish'^
ment, and unbelief sinks under the sense of God's power with confusion ;
the behever stays himaelf upon the name of God, but the sinner languishetti
under the consideration of the mightiness of that stroke that power can in
flict. An evangehcal convict dissolves under the sense of God's holiness,
the other faUs under the sense of God's power. I have offended majesty
that can punish me, saith one ; I have offended purity that would have
sanctified me, saith the other. As the forgetfulness of God's power and

200 chabnock's WOBKS. [John XVI. 8, 9.
majeaty is the cause of men's sins, we regard not how corrupt our practices
and offerings to God are, when we consider him not as a great king and
dreadful Lord, Mai. i. 14. As the forgetfulnesa of thia ia the cause of sin,
so the remembrance of his greatness is the cause of man'a reflection ; but a
beam of God'a holineas shining upon the underatanding makes a soul more
sensible of its dross than all the flamea of wrath. The angels solemnly ap
plauding of God's holiness, which they cried up in Isaiah's hearing, Isa. vi.
3, 5 ; — one cried to another, ' Holy, holy, holy is the Lord of hosts,' — cast him
down in a sense of his vileness. Then said I, ' Woe is me ! because I am a
man of unclean lips.' The sight of their covering their pure faces with thefr
wings made him abhor, and cry out of the uncleanness of his soul. He
saw the sun in its purity, and himself in hia darkness and filthiness. A
conviction by wrath is like a fire which only scorcheth ; a conviction by
holiness is like that of the sun, which burna by its heat, and discovera atoms
by its light. The one measures his loathsomeness by the judgment of men,
the other his filthiness by the holiness of God. Waa I made for God ? did
not hia holy as well aa his powerful finger frame me ? and am I so base as
to -wallow in corruption ? But,
(3.) Legal conviction ariseth only from a sense of the omniscience of God,
but an evangelical ariseth from a sense of the disaffection of God to sin.
The cause why men ain is the unbelief of God's omniscience, and the cause
why they are troubled is a sense of thia attribute, and not of God'a hatred
of their sins. The first impression from the edge of the word is, ' that all
things are naked and open before him with whom we have to do,' Heb. iv.
18 ; and that sins, even secret aina, are set in the light of hia countenance,
Ps. xc. 8. Men will forbear their actions of folly when they think the eye
of a grave man beholds them, but are bold to commit them when his back is
turned. If a prince be unknown behind the hangings, when aubjects speak
treason, they will be afraid when they discover he hath overheard them ; not
because they spoke it, but becauae he heard it ; they consider it as the object
of hia knowledge, and the mark of his vengeance. A legalist considers God
only as privy to hia iniquity, the other as he is disaffected to it ; he would
never be troubled for his sin, if it never came under God's notice ; the other
sinks under it, because it is the object of God's displeasure. The one
shakes, because he is convinced God observes it ; the other trembles,
because he is sensible God disapproves it.
(4.) A legal conviction is a sense of sin in the death of the soul, an evan
gelical is a sense of ain arising from the death of Christ. One person seeth
sin in the miaery of his soul, and the other in the cross of the Redeemer.
The moral law condemns sin, and the practice of the ceremonial acknow
ledged that condemnation. The offerer saw himself in those sacrifices which
died for him, guilty of death ; hence in the renewing of them there was a
remembrance of sin, Heb. x. 8, and the kiUing of them was a bond or hand
writing, whereby they confessed themselves obnoxious to the curse, and
debtors to puniahment. Col. ii. 14. This was only a sight of sin in the
death of a beast, though it typified the death of Christ. An evangelical con
viction seeth ain in the sigha and groans, cries and agonies, suffering and
blood of the Son of God, an only Son, an innocent Son, unspotted aa to any
inherency of ain in hia peraon, only submitting to the imputation of sin to
him, and infliction of punishment upon him, even to a commotion of aoul
and body. Thia giveth a clearer evidence of the demerit of ain to a full con
viction, than the whole latitude of threateninga, or the roarings the damned
utter, or the destroying miUiona of angels and men. This giveth ground for
a full sense of the inviolable sanction of the law, the reasonable severity of

John XVI. 8, 9.] conviction op sin. 201
justice against us, and the unavoidable demerit of sin, more than thousands
of sacrifices could discover to the Jews. The voice of Christ's blood dis
covers more the mahgnity of sin than all men or angela are able to expresa.
In thia glass doth the Spirit shew it, to convince the soul in an evangelical
manner. One seeth sin in the handwriting of ordinances against him, and
the other sees it more meltingly in the tearing and cancelling this bond and
bill by Christ upon the cross. That is the first thing, they differ in tbe
principles whence this sense doth arise.
Secondly, They differ in regard of the object of the conviction, or matter
they are convinced of.
(1.) A legal convict accounts his torture the greatest eril, an evangelical
hia ain. Both indeed are burdened, the one with his punishment, the other
with his desert of it ; one counts his torment hateful, the other his sin abo
minable. The first ia troubled there is not a beam of mercy, but not
troubled that he hath not a spark of grace. He groans under the presages
of damnation, but not under the want of holiness ; he ia of the devil'a temper.
Why dost thou torment us ? but doth not desire to be restrained from sin,
but to be kept from torment ; cries out aa Lamech, Gen. iv. 23, ' I have
slain a man to my wounding, and a young man to my hurt' ; not to God's
dishonour, no complaint of that. It is trae, he hath no pleaaure in his sin,
in the remembrance of it at the present, not for want of affection to it, but
becauae it is embittered to him with the gall in hia conscience ; the law spita
fire in hia face, and makes hia beloved object too hot for hia holding ; his
allegiance to sin is not cast off, but at present only interrupted in the exercise.
The other, the evangelically convinced man, cries out of his sin as the greatest
burden, My God I have dishonoured, his Spirit I have grieved, his name I
have slighted, and his mercy abused. And therefore the one, when his rack
is laid aside, and the storm in his conscience blown over, falls as roundly to
his former course as before ; or if he abstains from that sin which was a
cause of his smart, he opens his heart for more apfritual, and therefore more
rooted iniquity, which breaka out into worae. Some think Ananias and
Sapphira were in the number of those that had their hearts pricked at Peter's
sermon, but their covetousness in a great measure remained in their affec
tions, and ended in lying against the Holy Ghost. Such lay aside their
apparel aa playera, to put on a disguise that suits the part they are to act,
but strip themselves after, to put on their old garment again. Whereas
the other, that ia evangelically convinced, is more tender and careful to avoid
the smallest slip as well aa the grossest, not only when his conscience tor
ments, but when the heat is allayed ; careful to avoid sin in his duties, as
well as in his more pubhc conversation ; he is afraid of the sting of sin, as
well as of the sting of punishment ; he judgeth sin his greatest evil, and
next to that the want of God's favourable presence : ' How long wilt thou
forget me, 0 Lord ; how long wilt thou hide thy face, for ever ? ' Ps. xiii. 1 .
But then,
(2.) A legal convict is convinced of some sin, but he is also conceited that
he hath some good. An evangelically convinced person is sensible he hath
no good dwelling in his flesh ; his conviction is more universal, the other's
is more limited ; a legal conviction lays a man but half dead, an evangelical
lays him wholly dead ; he hath no esteem of his sin, nor any ofhis righteous
ness. One is sensible of his sin, but not of his utter insufficiency to redeem
his soul from everlasting death ; the other seea fully what poor stuff his own
righteousness is to make a sariour of The Spirit, as it discovers the ugli
ness of ain, so it discovers the rottenness of that righteousness wherewith a
man stilted himself up ; it makes all seem as grass, and fading flowers, and

202 chabnock's woeks. [John XVI. 8, 9.
of no value. The other, hke the prodigal, though he be sensible of his
misery, yet he thinka to preaerve himaelf by husks. A true convict seeth
himself under the curse of the law, without abihty in anything but Christ to
take it off ; he seeth a neceasity to have Christ to dehver him, or he must
be for ever bound ; and Christ to raise him, or he is utterly lost ; whereas
the other thinks he is able to raise himaelf The one thinks to repair him
self out of the ruins of nature, and raise up a buUding of righteousness by
materials of his own hewing ; the other, lUie Job, abhora not only sin, but
himself too. Job xhi. 6, and speaks not a word of that integrity he boasted
of before. The one knows himself a debtor to the law, but thinks himself
able to do something to content the creditor, and patch up his credit by
promises of reformation ; he hes down in sparks of hia own kindling, wra,ps
himself in a garment of his own weaving, thinks himself rich by conceits
framed in his own mint, and fancies that he ia able to ailence the clamours
of the law, and lick the wound of hia conscience whole ; as Saul thought to
redeem his credit with God by the sacrifice of beasts, after he had offended
in the case of Amalek : he makes self a God, and idolisea his otvn power.
This is a secret self-pride, that runs in the channel of the whole nature from
Adam ; and as sin is irritated by the law, so these thoughts start up by it,
and make many that seemed to begin to be spiritually convinced, to end in
the flesh. Aa sin revives by the law, so doth this pride rise up afterwards,
and is the ruin of many. Hence arise those frequent excuses of men before
they will come to a downright confession ; whereas the other, that is evan
gelically conrinced, is dead to his own righteouaness, as well as hia sin ; he
is sensible he hath no activity' in himself, unleas grace inapfre him with a
new principle. He performs duties, but doth not idolise them ; puts forth
his power to the utmost, but doth not rest in it ; he seeth the emptiness of
his righteousness, as well as the foulness of his sin ; and thinks the one as
unable to deliver him from the stroke of justice as the other to deserve it ;
and despairs of help, and relief from the spring of nature. Paul, when a
Jew, was of the same stamp with his brethren, thought to keep up his repu
tation with God by an external observation of the law, but when the law
came in the hand of the Spirit, he died ; saw not only his damnable condi
tion, but the insecurity of his soul upon any legal foundation, and the rotten
ness of all his former services to bring him to heaven. Then all his natural
and moral excellencies were as unvaluable as before they were amiable ; they
were loss in bis sight. And to heighten his vile esteem of them, he adds
dung, a dunghill righteousness, things of no account as to justification ; yet
none more holy than Paul, by a holiness derived from Christ by the Spirit
after conversion, as none was more moral before by the strength of nature.
Thus was he dead to the law, conrinced of the vanity of any confidence in
legal services ; not that he might live to sin, but to God, by a new power
derived from Chriat, Gal. ii. 19, for he was supplied with sap from that
crucified root. Now what was really the attainment of Paul, ia ao of every
true convert, and ia the desire of every evangelically convinced person. This
conceit whioh the legalist hath of some good in himself, ariseth from the con-
aideration of himself, compared with thoae that defile themselves more in
sin. A sense of our own vileness, when truly convinced, ariseth fr-om our
consideration of the perfection of the law of God ; for measuring ouraelves
with the holiness of God, we aee nothing at all that beara proportion to him.
Morality ia but as the moon, which is glorioua if compared with a candle,
but faint if compared with the sun.
Thirdly, There are differences in regard of the carriage of the persons
under each of these works of conviction.

John XVI. 8, 9.] conviction of sin. '' 203
(1.) Legally convinced persons snatch at comfort, though never so false ;
an evangelical convict looks for comfort only from the mouth of God. The
one doth not kindly own the supremacy of God, and therefore makes not
fuU and close addresses to him for heahng, but seeks for shelter from every
hedge, like Saul in hia melancholy to music, and in his distress to the witch
of Endor ; like Pharaoh to his magicians, the charming pleasurea of the
vvorld. He thinks, by thus being in a fool's paradise, by the pleasurea of
sin to choke the sense of conscience ; take a receipt from any unakilful hand
rather than from the physician ; worldly mfrth, carnal advice ; or at best he
runs to sermons, and fasts in hopes of remedy, catches at any passage in a
sermon to ease his soul. Sometimes he endeavours to stupefy his trouble
by sinful diversion ; he moves hell for ease, and cries. Give me comfort, or
I die ! Sometimes he snatches a promise wherein he ia in no manner con
cerned, and claps it on by a misapprehension, and so charms his trouble for
a time ; and in this he is assisted by the devil, who is skUful in this art, and
so he makes a flower of paradise prove poison. Such wrest the Scripture to
thefr own destruction, and to allay the storm is all they look for. Now, an
evangelically convinced person, he longs for comfort from that Spirit which
first impressed the sense of sin. Aa he was struck by the law, so he will
be healed by the goapel only. He longa for joya, not of the world, but of
God's salvation ; hia eye is fixed with Heman's only upon the God of salva
tion, Ps. Ixxxviii. 5. He vrill wait God's leisure, and take nothing but what
the word offers ; examine well whether the word belongs to him. The
Spirit makea him, like Christ, inquire into anything that is alleged, that he
be not deluded by Satan's fair pretences ; he longa for healing by the Sun
of righteousness, that he may come and scatter the darkneas he sits in. All
the good opinion of men concerning him cannot give him a grain of true con
tentment ; he is willing to do anything with the gaoler for the aaving his
soul — ' Sira, what muat I do to be aaved ?' — resolved to undergo the hardest
conditions prescribed by the word of God ; but he knows aU the true spring
of comfort is the blood of Christ, the covenant of grace, the promises aealed
by that blood, and a sound and substantial faith in them, and tiU milk spout
from these breasts into his mouth he will not be contented ; he is for no
other peace but that which is the fruit of God'a lipa ; whereas the other ia
satisfied with a slight answer, warms himself by hia own sparks, drinks of
any pui^dle, so he may but quench hia inflamed bowela, and regards not
faith in Christ. Such coolers make men go on more resolutely in the ways
of death afterwards, aince they can quickly have an allay for conscience when
it begins to stfr. These legally convinced persons snatch at comfort though
never so false.
(2.) A legally convinced person would only be freed from the pain, an
evangelically convinced person from the sin, the true cause of it. Like
swine, they would not have the cudgel, but they would have the mire; would
have a freedom from the lash of the law, but hate to come under the yoke of
Christ. They hate the fron that is come into their side, but not the crime,
as a malefactor doth the gaol or a thief the gibbet. Such a one had rather
have a rotten heart than a painful rack ; he had rather have a putrefied soul
than a deep incision. The one cries for a plaster to ease his conscience,
the other for an axe to be laid to the root of his sin. He would keep his
right hand and eye, provided they would not feater. The other would not
have any corner of his heart inhabited by any ain ; he is desirous it might
lose its empfre and dominion in the heart. He hath a respect to God's tes
timonies, though tremblings at the considerations of God : Ps. cxix. 119,
120, ' My flesh trembles for fear of thee, and I am afraid of thy judgments ;'

204 chabnock's woeks. [John XVI. 8, 9.
the other, like the man possessed in the Gospel, would not have the deril
tormented in him, and utters not a word to have the devil cast out of him,
Luke vui. 28. He that is evangelically convinced looks forward to sin that
may tempt him, and is watchful against the occasions of it ; the other at
best looks only backward to those already committed, and spends this dis
affection he hath only on that for which he is racked ; he ainglea out that to
wreak hia anger upon ; he doth not fall on the troops of sin, not upon sin
in general, but some particular sin which hath been painful to him ; he hath
no disaffection to the pleasure promised in other occasions, though he hath
a distaste of the pain for that which is past. If the legalist be vvrung into
some reformation, it ia with as much regret to part with his darling sin as
David with Absalom, or Adam to be turned out of paradise. Though he
forbears it, he doth not abhor it; ifhe abhors it, it is only the pain, not the
sin ; and the reason ia, because there ia no higher principle in such a person
than fear and self love, and to one or both of these all the reformation he
hath owes its original. He is only afraid of hell, and could he enjoy sin
without terror in hia conscience or wrath in hell, he did not care if the glory
of God were lost for him, whether ever he came at heaven or the presence
of God, whether ever he had an hatred of evil or acted good ; he distastes
the evil only. But one that is evangelically convinced distastes the foulness
of sin, relishes the excellency and beauty of holineaa, because of its suit
ableness to ita Creator. Where there is fear only, there is nothing but
bondage and a legal frame. The voice of one legally convinced is. How
shall I do this wickedness, and open the flood-gates of wrath ? The voice
of an evangelical convict is this. How ahaU I do this wickedness, and sin
against God, and spurn at his bowels ?
Fourthly, There are differences in regard of the effects of these, and
(1.) A legal conviction doth not of itself soften, but rather harden ; an
evangelical is melting and submissive. The making a fleshy heart and dis
posing it to such a frame, ia the incommunicable property of the covenant of
grace, and was never within the verge and compass of the law. The law,
like a cannon, thunders only bullets and cursing, not a word of a promise
but to perfect righteousness ; therefore a legal conviction cannot be attended
with any melting fruit. It is like a hammer, that may break a stone in
pieces, yet every part retains its hardness. After a mere legal conviction,
the heart ia commonly harder, aa water ; if it grow cold after it if heated,
freezea harder than it would have done if it had retained ita native cold,
without the interruption of a contrary quality. All those strivings of the
Spirit with the old world abated nothing of that evil figment, those evU
imaginations, which lodged in the heart continually. And it is observed,
that though the Israelites heard the thunder, saw the lightning, the moun
tain burning with fire, the blackness, darkness, and tempest, aa a prepara
tion for giving the law, which made them tremble, yet before forty days
were over, they had not only forgotten that law, but they sin against that
God whose power they feared, renounce God and his power over them, and
make themselves a golden calf, Exod. xxxii. 1, 4. The scorching of the
law makes the burned place more brawny after the fire ia out. The under
standing may be soundly convinced, yet the heart not melted ; the one is
from the undeniable evidence of truth, the other is from the kindly influence
of the Spirit. But when the Spirit convinceth the heart in a spiritual
method, it shines like the aun in the heavena, which thawa the cold and
frozen earth, and makes a man to be as melting wax before God. Oh how
immense is this love of God, that should offer me a Christ, provide a
Redeemer, set him apart from all eternity for me that am self-condemned,

John XVI. 8, 9.] conviction op sin. 205
while I was a rebel, for me who am a flrebrand of heU ! 0 inestimable
mercy ! 0 melting goodness ! 0 free grace ! Then he calls to his heart,
Down, rocky heart, dovm to the very dust ; lie as low as hell by abasement,
since Chriat hath made himself so low for thee ! This is always attended with
humility ; such a person falls down on his face and worships God, 1 Cor. xiv. 25.
and with submissiveness will bear the indignation of the Lord, Micah vii. 9.
And therefore a renewed man, that is past these pikes, is more humble under
a sense of his own vileness than all the legalists ever were ; for the Spirit
keeps hia foundation firm, which he first laid, whereon to build the super
structure of grace and comfort. Aa this sense of ain, the root, grows
downward, so theae noble fruita grow upward. The aense David had at
hia conviction for the blood of Uriah, made him startle at the num
bering the people, and afraid of the water fetched from the well of Beth
lehem, but he poured it out before the Lord, lest he should seem to
countenance the shedding of any blood. Well, then, the legal conviction
is aa a brick in the kiln, burned and hardened ; the other like gold, in
flamed and melted, separating itaelf from the dross.
(2.) A legal conviction of itself tends only to destruction, evangelical to
health and salvation. The law presents nothing but condemnation and ruin,
and can speak no other language ; its mouth is filled only with curses, with
out the mixture of any one blessing for degenerate man : what can be the
issue of this, but confusion and endless torment ? Not the least drop of com
fort streams from it. It is impossible but that when it chargeth home the
violation of the law, and brandisheth all its curses, self-condemnation and
despair must reign in the conscience ; and conscience, the deputy of God,
when awakened, cannot but (like the Israelites) subscribe an Amen to every
curse. The law, like mount Ebal, is barren of comfort ; blessing growa
only upon the mount of the gospel. Hence, many under sharp terrors of
the law have endeavoured to make away themselves, and leaped into the
flames of hell to avoid the aparks. This of itself, like poison, works to the
dissolution of the temperament of the body ; but evangehcal ia hke physic,
which, though it diaturba the humoura, yet it tends to the preserving and
rectifying the complexion of the body. And by this at last the soul ia
brought to auch a frame that it ia wiUing to lie under affliction and torment,
yea, under the fury of devils, rather than sin against God ; for fear and in
genuity in the soul join hands to the keeping of God'a commandments.
The one discovers the disease, the other the remedy ; the one causes fear,
the other hope ; the one shews the plague, the other discovers the plaster ;
the one is like a dart in the side of a deer, that makes him run further from
him that shot it, the other is as a chain to draw the aoul nearer to God.
(3.) A difference in regard of duration. The legal conviction is like a
convulsion fit of the earth, when it quakes and trembles, and affects all that
feel it with amazement, but holds not long ere it return to its natural con
sistency and stability ; but an evangelical conviction lasts as long as we live,
and is not cast off but with the mantle of the body ; then tbe sense of sin
shall be left, and we wholly taken up with the praises of a Redeemer. With
out thia, grace would not grow and thrive to a due maturity.
3. Thirdly, As there ia a difference between thoae convictions which rise
from nature, and which rise from the law, so there is a difference between
Satan's setting sin in order before us, and the manner of the Spirit's pre
senting it to us (for Satan doth sometimes set sin in order before the soul,
and there is a difference between their methods). In convictions begun by
the Spirit, Satan doth interest himself and if he cannot stifle them, he en
deavours to increase them. Though they are not in themselves acts of com-

206 ohaenock's woeks. [John XVI. 8, 9.
fort, yet they are the act of a comforting Spirit, and in order to comfort ;
but the deril impresseth them only as a terrifying spfrit. God sometimes
employs him as his officer after conversion for a correction of hia people, as
a beadle to disciphne vagrants when they stray from thefr duty ; but there
ia a manifest difference between the impressions of guUt made by him, and
those stamped by the Holy Ghost.
(1.) Satan seta sin in order as an accuser, the Spirit as a comforter.
The tendency of a spiritual conviction is comfort, the intention of Satan is
only to charge us with our fault. Satan, aa an enemy, with violence brings
his charge ; the Spirit, as a friend, with tendemess doth impress conviction
upon the soul. Satan hath no mind to awaken the conscience, but would
rather luU men asleep in a carnal and endless security aa to this world, and
not discover the danger nntU they feel the stroke ; he rather tempts to sin
than accuseth for it, and sets men before the cannon of wrath, and giveth
them no warning untU they feel the buUet at their hearts, and are shattered
in pieces by it. When he hath a fuU possession of the heart, all things are
in quiet, and this great deceiver doth what he can to hinder true conviction;
and this great Pharaoh doth not double the burden until he is like to lose
his prey, and ia afraid the aoul should be snatched out of his hands ; then
he charges, aa before he charmed. He chargeth violently, therefore his
title is, ' The accuser of the brethren,' Rev. xii. 10. He is also dihgent in
it, for he doth accuse them day and night : he is no lesa an accuser, and a
diligent accuser, of men to their own consciences. His accusations do not
precede, but follow, the Spirit's conriction, to spoil the Spirit's work, and
keep off the soul from coming nnder any other government than his own.
Satan doth only accuse like a councillor at the bar, with violence doth im
plead the prisoner that he ia counsel against, rakes up all crimes that can be
found, presents them with the sharpest edge, blunts all his apologies made
in his defence, giveth no direction to procure a pardon ; if the man look
after any, he puts him out of hopes of obtaining. This Satan doth when he
is afraid lest he should lose a man that he finds soundly convinced by the
Spirit, and ready to go off from him, when other means are successless. He
deals with such a soul as with Job : after God had granted him liberty to
affiict him, he dispatched not one mesaenger with good news to him, but
hastened one after another with tidings of his loss and misery. He doth
rather over-accuse than under-accuse ; he is a lying spfrit, and being envious
too, that delights in the misery of others, he cares not what he saith to
strengthen his charge. He would not speak truth to God when he accused
Job, but makes a charge of hypocrisy, and a false prognostication of Job's
cursing God, if he were stripped of hia worldly riches. Job i. 11 and ii. 5.
And he accuseth Job to his friends of more than he was guilty of ; this he
doth to drive to despair. But the Spfrit is a Spirit of truth ; he sets sins in
order aa they are, and ia a Spirit of tendemess, convinceth the soul with a
compassion to it. Satan deals with the aoul as the thieves with the man in
the Gospel, whom they left for half dead, but had no pity on his wounds.
He acts quite contrary to Christ, and the Spirit of Christ in the world.
When the Spirit is only a conrincer, Satan wUl be a comforter, teUs them
sin ahall do them no hurt, there is no cause of fear ; but when the. Spirit's
conviction operates kindly, and ia like to be a preparation to Chriat, when
the Spfrit begina to be a comforter, then Satan will be a convincer ; then
his language is, Nothing will cure. Satan tormented men ; Christ, when
he was on the earth, cured them. The Spirit, being Christ's deputy, acts
as Christ did when he waa here, and with the same affection aa Chriat did.
Not but that the Spirit reproves sharply, as Christ did upon occasion Peter

John XVI. 8, 9.] conviction op sin. 207
and the Pharisees, and yet, upon compliance, was as gentle as before severe.
The Spirit doth accuae for sin, but doth also shew a righteousness to answer
those accusations, if it be embraced.
(2.) Satan presents God only as a Judge to punish. The Spirit in the
progress of conviction represents him not only aa a Judge, who hath the
power of punishment, but as a Sovereign and Father in Christ, who hath the
power of pardon. Satan presents God upon several occasiona, either armed
only with fury, or covered only with -a robe of mercy ; one, when he would
drive to despair, the other when he would settle the heart in preaumption.
To a soul convinced thoroughly of sin, which is upon the threshold of conver
sion, he represents God as the Lord of the world, calling him to account in
the strictness of justice ; not as the reconciler of the world in Christ, not as
standing with a pen dipped in the blood of Christ to cross out his debts upon
his resignation to him. He tells the soul God is a God of terror, without a
mite of mercy, never shews God in all his perfections ; but the Spirit, being
' the Spirit of truth,' John xvi. 13, discovers God in all his exceUenciea.
Satan is the ruler of darknesa : Eph. yi. 12, 'The ruler of the darknesa of
this world.' He diacovers nothing but what may increase the darkness in
man, like that in himself, that God is revengeful and false, not wUling to
make good any word of grace ; not only accuseth the aoul to itself, but ac
cuseth God to the soul, and chargeth God falsely. He repreaenta God as
armed with wrath ; the Spirit represents him as calmed by Christ. Satan
tells the afflicted sinner only of an iron rod in God's hand ; the Spirit tells
the sinner of a gracioua sceptre ; Satan shews justice brandishing terror, and
the Spirit goodneas with melting bowels. Not but that the Spirit shews
the justice of God in the law against sin, but it is to make way for the bet
ter welcome of the mercy of the gospel ; as Joseph carries himaelf like a
judge, sends his brethren to prison, not to keep them languishing there, but
to shew the affection of a brother, with the more comfort to them, and ad
vantage to hia own designs.
(8.) Satan conceals the remedy for sin by the mercy of God ; but the
Spirit discovers it. The devil may aggravate the disease, but not tell us of
the true medicine ; the devil discovers ain aa an executioner, and nothing
but the sin ; the Spirit, as a physician in order to a cure, discovers both the
wound and the plaster, the diaease and the remedy. Satan ahews only fire
to inflame, but he never acquaints the soul with the blood of Christ to quench
that flame ; he is only a fiery serpent to sting, but never directa to the brazen
serpent to cure that ating. Since he knoweth that all the strength and acti
vity to cast off his yoke lieth in the knowledge of, and closing with, Christ,
he useth all arts to keep us from the knowledge of the gospel, and the gracious
condescension and good will of Chriat, that we might not, by becoming Chriat's
subjects, cease to be his slaves ; therefore he uses all the power he hath, as
' the god of the world,' 2 Cor. iv. 4, to bhnd the eyes of men, that they may
not see a spark of the hght of the glorious gospel, which he doth by putting
strange fancies into the hearta of men ; but the conriction of the Spirit ia in
order to the manifestation of the things of Christ. To the convinced soul,
the devU shews only the curses of the law, but the Spfrit ahews the promisea
of the gospel. The devil is an envious spfrit, and aince he is thrown down
from heaiven, veils any light that comes from thence, that men may not look
that way. The Spirit's conriction is in order to the manifestation of the
things of Christ: ' He shaU receive of mine, and shew it unto you.' Not but
that the Spirit, many times, first shews justice with a drawn sword, and
mercy with a veUed face, and doth not diacover the promises for a whUe, and
entertains the soul with this language : Look upon a doleful eternity, an

208 chabnock's wobks. [John XVI. 8, 9.
unavoidable wrath, conaider the easineas of utter ruin, how life and endless
misery hang upon a small thread, and a puff of God can send thee among the
damned ; but thia ia but temporary, and to make the remedy more estimable;
but the devil is always for obscuring the gospel, and flashing the law in the
face of the sinner.
(4.) When Satan cannot conceal the remedy, he endeavours to disparage
it, to keep the soul under terrors and a sight of sin, in opposition to that
remedy. But the Spirit convinceth of the foul evil of sin, and alao magni-
flea the excellency of the remedy provided against it. Satan would make
them believe the blood of Christ is too shallow to cover the mountains of
their iniquities ; the Spirit wounds to raise an esteem of the depths of that
blood. Since the devil cannot conquer Christ, he will endeavour to disparage
Christ, and the merit and value of his blood ; the Spirit was sent to glorify
Christ, which is contrary to the devil's designs, to disparage him : John
xvi. 14, ' He shall glorify me.' As Satan would wholly hide the mercy of
God, so when he cannot, but that it breaks out, he extenuates the grace of
the covenant, fills men full of disputes and carnal reasonings against the
riches of grace, and latitude of the promise. He sets up pride in the heart,
as he did in Adam, against the grace of God ; it was his old trade to make
men jealous of God : the same arts he doth exercise still, with more subtilty,
as being assisted with a large stock of experience since the fall. Distrust of
God was that he tempted Adain to, and Chriat himself, putting the thing to
an If, ' If thou art the Son of God.' Satan presseth upon them their sin,
as unpardonable ; at first, to encourage security, he tella them sinis so small
that justice will not regard it, and afterwards so great that mercy cannot for
give it, that they are past the hmits of grace, that the candle of their lives
will not burn long enough for a true repentance ; but the Spirit never
acquaints the soul with any such news ; for this is against the nature of the
gospel, this is to bely the terms and tenor of it, for he always proposeth the
gospel in its true terms of faith and repentance. He shews ain in its ugly
colours, as an object of justice, whUe it is cherished, and the sinner as an
object of mercy in the gospel, when repenting. The Spirit presseth it as a
duty to believe, Satan presseth it upon their consciences that they ought not
to believe, that swine must not meddle with pearls, nor dogs with jewels, that
to believe is to presume, that they provoke God in closing with mercy, before
they have a fitness for it. Such things are the language of many under troubles,
when Satan puts his finger into them, and by this meana keeps men off in a
sight of sin, from closing with the promise. If a promise appears, Satan
darkens it ; if the soul cometh to close with it, Satan endeavours to beat ofl
their fingers, and tells them they have not, nor are ever like to have, qualifi
cations for the promise ; but the Spirit is sent on the same errand that Christ
came on, to manifest the name of God, the freeness of his mercy, and that
the gospel is as large in blessings to penitents and believers, as the law ia in
curses to impenitenta and infidels, and clears up the things which are freely
given us of God, goapel grace and favour, gospel promises. These are ' the
things freely given ns of God,' 1 Cor. ii. 12. But if the soul, like Joshua,
doth look towarda the angel of the Lord, Satan wUl be at hand to turn away
hia eyea from him, Zech. iii. 1.
(5.) The deril always, in setting sin before the soul, endeavours to drive
it to despair, the Spirit to encourage it to faith ; the one to sink it in despair
of pardon, the other to excite it to a mourning for sin. Satan would drive
it to blasphemy, like those, Rev. xvi. 11, that ' blasphemed the God of heaven
by reason of their pains, and repented not of their deeds.' But the Spirit
instructs with the conviction, teaching us to justify God, and condemn our-

John XVI. 8, 9.] conviction of sin. *• 209,
selves, to quell our murmurings, and justify God's procedure, and make us
submissive to God's righteous judgment. Satan discovers sin, to drive the
soul to a worse sin than that which he hath discovered, and aetthe soul more
at variance with God. Satan is an evil spirit, and is ' a roaring lion, going
about to devour,' 1 Pet. v. 8. The Spirit seeks to support, and discovers sin,
to make men humble before God, and to have good thoughts of God'a ten
derness. The language of the Spirit is, thy case is desperate in itaelf, but
there ia balm in Gilead, there is eye-salve. The language of the devil is,
God hath forsaken thee, as to Saul, who thereupon slew himaelf on his own
aword; as he spurred Judas to sin after self- conriction, so he hurried him
as fast to the halter, thence to hell. Thus he endeavoured to engage Job in
an open hostility ngainst God, and spared no way to gall him, and move him
to ao cursed a rebellion. When such motiona are found by any persona
lying uniler a sense of sin, and wrath due to it, they may conclude them not
to be any touches of the Holy Spirit, who, being a Spirit of holiness, can
never stir up such sinful motions. Satan hath a great advantage to thi-i end,
to drive to despair, from the guilt of our consciences; and an advantage to
accuse ua, frora the darkness and ignorance of our hearts, and unacquainted-
ness with the largeness and extent of the gospel. He ia also skilful in all
the terrible threatenings of God in the word ; he hath read them all over, and
draws what d^rts out of that quiver he pleases to answer that end. He can
open tbe fountain below, the spring of our sin, the window above, the stream
ing of justice, and cause a deluge of despair ; and, being a perfect haier of
God, he endeavours to imprint upon men the same disposition. Whereas,
the Spirit being love, and acts of love principally ascribed to him, aims at
the drawing the soul to such a frame of love, and opens our sin to make ua
despair in ourselves, and the treasures of the gospel, to make us run to God
wiih open arms, shews the greatness of sin, and also the attainablenesa of
mercy, upon our return and repentance. The Spirit being aent as a com
forter, his principal intent is, not to terrify, but that he may lay more lasting
and stronger foundations for comfort ; and, being a wooer and aolicitor for
Christ, when he tella ua of our miaery by our match with sin, it is not like
Satan, to make our union straiter, but to break it off, and bless us with a
better ; and therefore, when he shewa the ugliness and misery of sin, it is to
raise our esteem of Christ, and promote our acceptance of him.
(6.) Satan works violently and suddenly in this case, and most by the
passions and humoura of the body, rather than by reason ; but the Spirit
worka upon the mind, therefore he is an enlightening Spirit. Satan works
upon the reason by the passion, the Spirit upon the passion by the reason ;
he first enlightens the mind, and brings light into the heart, and the rational
faculties, the proper aubjecta of light, and by this means winds up the pas
sions to what pitch and tunehe thinks fit. Satan first works upon the humours
of the body, as melancholy', and the hke. Satan works violently, as upon
passion, as he buffeted Paul ; boxes a man to and fro, so that he hath no
time to do anything but consider his misery : whereas the Spirit proposeth
the object, helps the soul to consider, and by degrees leads to a. further
knowledge of the light of the gospel, from a glimmering to a shining light,
until the knowledge of the Lord break in in its full glory. The Spirit also
is more particular in his conrictions, as acting omnisciently, which Satan
being a creature cannot do ; who cannot discern all sins, but guesses at aome
thoughts and actions, and therefore hia setting sin before men is more con
fused. The Spirit's setting sin before men is more particular and orderly ; but
in the whole, Satan acts as a convincer only, the Spirit as a convincer and
comforter : one aims at terror and despair, the other at comfort and faith.
VOL. IV. 0

210 ^ "' chabnock's woeks. [John XVI. 8, 9.
VI. The application.
Use 1. Of Information. If the Spirit of Christ be the author of conviction
of sin ; if this is the order God proceeds in, then.
First, The gospel doth not destroy reason and rational proceeding. It is
agreeable to common reaaon, that old principles should be exploded, and
appear unworthy, baae, unreasonable, and weak, before new ones be intro
duced and entertained. The working of the Spirit is according to the nature
of man, moves not in contradiction unto, but in an elevation of reaaon ; he ex-
plodeth principles, which were planted in the mind before, and discovers
principles which reason cannot disown, though it did not before apprehend ;
he doth not extinguish reason, the candle of the Lord, but snuff's it, and
adds more light, reduces it to its proper manner of operation, and sets it in
its right state towards God ; brings fresh light into the understanding, and
new motions into the will. He doth not dethrone reason and judgment, but
apply it -to its proper work, repair it, sets it in its true motion ; as mending
a watch is not to destroy it, but rectify that which is out of order, and re
store it to its true end. Religion is not the destruction, but the restoration,
of reason. The arguments the Spirit useth are suited to the reason of men,
otherwise conscience could not be moved, for conacience follows judgment :
it is not an act of judgment, but imagination, that reaaon doth not precede.
Aa the aervice God requires is a rational service, ao the method he uses in
conversion is a rational method.
Secondly, We may from this doctrine see the excellency of the gospel
state. The foundation of it is laid by the Son of God ; the application of it,
and the preparations to that application, are wrought by the Spirit of God.
The whole Trinity concern themselvea in man's recovery : the Father con
trives it, the Son lays the foundation of it in his blood, the Spirit prepareth
the soul for the participation of it. The Father shews the evil of sin, by
making his Son a sacrifice for it ; the Son acknowledgeth the demerit of sin,
by consenting to his own expiatory death ; the Spirit bears witness against
the evil of it, by discovering to ua tbe filthiness of ita nature, ' For when he
ia come,' ' the Comforter whom I will send,' John xv. 26, ' he shall testify
of me,' saith Christ. The Spirit doth it as the fruit of Christ's purchase,
and gift of Christ's royalty ; he breaks the rock, subdues the heart, fills it
with the bitterness of sin, that it may taste of the aweetness of grace ; he
shakes the rod of damnation over men, to make them fly to a golden sceptre
held out to relieve them. The first covenant spake terror only, and spake
no more comfort to men than derils, sealed them up to destruction, without
one spark of light to shew the way of salvation ; but the Spirit in the gospel
giveth us light to see our misery, but in order to our apprehension of the
remedy ; he makes us know our state, that we may know our Saviour ; he
fiUs men with trembling and amazement in a way of grace, for his service ;
not in a way of judgment, as a preparation to their down-lying in eternal
flames. God hath provided an agent to do that, which Christ by reason of
his flesh was not so likely to do. The garb wherein Christ appeared
offended the world ; it was incredible to man that God should send his Son
in so mean a condition. From this the world drew pretences for their unbelief,
but the glorious appearance of the Spirit cuts off all theae pretencea. Man
can have no excuse from the convictions the Spirit makes. This seems to
be part of the expediency of Christ's departure, that the Spirit might con
vince. Thirdly, All conrictions and convincing diacouraea must not be exploded
as legal ; they are the work of the Spirit, as the royal gift of Christ, and the
fi-uit of Christ's ascension ; nay, the first work of the Spirit as a comforter.

John XVI. 8, 9.J conviction op sin. 211
a fruit of the promise of the Spirit as carrying on the design of Christ. The
convictions of the Spfrit are no more legal, than the blood of Christ a legal
blood, the priesthood of Chriat a legal prieathood, the offices of Christ legal
offlces. The works of the Spirit, in what way soever, are evangehcal in their
end, since the foundation on which they are built is a goapel foundation.
Fourthly, We see the mighty power and excellency of the word in the
hand of the Spirit. The Spirit ia the author of conviction, not immediately,
without the propoaing any object, but in and by the word. The Spirit, like
Christ to the woman of Samaria, discovers ' all that she had done,' John
iv. 29. The word in this hand is a hammer to break the hardest rock, a
fire to melt and devour the compactedest metals, a spirit to enter through the
closest bars, a rod to smite the stoutest sinner, a breath to slay the highest
wickedness. It makea men to aaaent to what they loathed, acts them on
fire, though they uae aU their arta to quench it, Rev. xi. 10. It doth torment
thoae that dwell on the earth, while they are in an earthly and carnal frame.
The holinesa of the word is evidenced, in shewing ua the filthiness of our
souls ; the power of the word manifested, in pulling down that which exalts
itself, though it be never so strong a hold ; the divine authority is manifest,
in revealing the secrets of the heart, though lying hid, not only from the
eyes of the world, but alao from the preaent knowledge of the soul itself,
1 Cor. xiv. 24. Like the sun, nothing is hid from the light and force
thereof; it edgeth a man's conscience, sets him a- trembling, becauae it is
the voice of the Lord. When the Spirit fastens it on the soul, it will make
the highest mountain to shake, the heart of an incarnate deril to tremble ;
put such a cup of amazement in the hands of a ainner, that all the pleasurea
of sin shall not put the taste out of his ; it will make a prince come down
from a throne, let fall his sceptre ; make David throw hia crown fi-om his
head, and Ahab change his purple into sackcloth, and the jailer spring in
trembling before his prisoners. Wonder not at this powerful effect, since
the word ia managed by the hand of the Spirit.
Fifthly, If the Spirit be the author of conviction, how weak then are all
meana of themaelvea, till the Spirit set them home upon the conscience !
Could nature thoroughly convince, what need of the Spirit ? Threatenings
will not savingly affright, nor promises powerfully allure, without the power
of the Holy Ghost to imprint them. A man may read them ten thousand
times over, and have no full reflection upon himaelf, as concerned in them,
without the operation of this mighty arm. All the Jewish sacriflces were
too feeble to expiate sin without the death of Christ ; all the powers in the
world are too weak to convince of sin without the arm of the Spirit. How
foolish ia it for man to depend upon his own resolution, to think the sense
of sin necessary, and yet put it off until another day, when this sense is not
in his own power, but at the Spirit'a pleasure, and there is as much need of
the Spirit to touch us with a sense of sin, as of the angel's descent to move
the waters, to the bestowing of health !
Sixthly, If the Spirit be the author of conviction, we may hereby judge of
the motions of the Spfrit, and diatinguish them from motiona from other
causes. The Spirit never moves to sin, or anything that appears sinful.
That Spirit which is to display sin in its black colours, in order to con
riction, can never sohcit to the embraces of it, in order to damnation; that
Spirit which shews sin in its hellish ahape, can never invite the soul to
espouse deformity. He that is sent to convince of it, ean never be so false
to his office as to daub with it. Impure breathings are not the issues of a
Spirit of holiness; injuries and falsities against God never take their rise
from a Spirit of truth. Whatsoever therefore hath a tincture of sin, what-

212 chabnock's wobks. [John XVI. 8, 9.
soever is per se an occasion of sin, can never come from the Spirit of God,
let what revelation aoever be pretended ; especially whataoever disparageth
Christ in hia undertaking, in the glory of any of his offices, and the honour
of God by him, this receivea no encouragement at all from tbe Spirit, whose
employment it is to reprove for unbelief, and whatsoever shelters itself under
the wings of it. He is Christ's depnty, and will not infringe the main end
of Christ, which was to set up holiness and pull down sin. The Spirit can
not move to anything that destroys the foundation of Christ's gospel.
Sevenlhly, If the Spirit be the author of the conviction of sin, we see then
who is the great author of stifling convictions, and hindering them from com
ing to a good issue. It must be something contrary to the Spirit of God;
who is that but Satan ? It is a character of a child of tbe devil to be an
' enemy to all righteousness,' Acts xiii. 10 ; much more is the devil, the
father of that child, an enemy to all righteousnesa. And thus said Paul to
Elymas when he withstood the apostle, and endeavoured to divert Paulus
Sergius from entertaining the word. The devil hath no such ememy in the
heart of man as faith, because this bringa the soul from under his power, to
be subject to another head ; he sets his atrength againat the plantation of
it, and likewise against the preparation for it. His design is against right
eousnesa and holiness. He first assaulted the righteousneas of Adam's
nature in paradise, and endeavours to prevent any restoration of righteous
ness to the soul, by keeping men off from the means of it, raising the spirit
of persecution against it, instilling into men false imaginations of the unplea
santness of it, the pleasures of sin, and the easiness of a deathbed repent
ance, and stifling convictions, which are the flrst step to happiness. He
finds corrupt prinuiples in men, which he arms against the attempts of the
Spirit. The Spirit first convinceth of sin, and then of righteousness. The
devil goes quite contrary: ffrst he endeavours to convince of a false right
eousness, and, when that will not prevail, then he convinceth of sin. When
he cannot prevent a sinner's seeing sin in ita deformity, then he will endea
vour to hinder him from seeing grace in its beauty and lustre. When the
sinner is impenitent, he represents God as stripped of his justice, that he may
not fear. When conscience is soundly stirred, he labours to render it fruit
less, and stop the torrent of conviction ; strips God of his mercy, that he
may increase the man's fears; he tells him hia former sins are swelled
above mercy. He tells the bold sinner that he hath a righteousness, and
that God hath no arrows in store for him ; he tells the troubled ainner that
he hath nothing but sin, and that God hath no bowela reserved for him.
He always contradicts the method of the Spirit of God, and atill ia, what he
was from the beginning, a liar ; he endeavours to comfort when the Spirit
troubles, and troubles when the Spirit comforts ; he will speak peace when
God cries guilt, and cries guilt when the Spirit cries peace ; he is all for the
gospel when the Spirit handlea the law, and is all for law when the Spirit
utters the gospel. Hence he hath his ' fiery darts,' that is, the fear of death
and damnation by reason of sin and imperfect obedience, which he suggests
to the conscience, Eph. ri. 16. Thus he walks contrary to the Spirit of God.
You see then who is the author of stifling conviction.
Eighthly, If the Spirit of God be the author of conriction, how sinful ia
it then to resist the convictions of the Spirit ! It ia a new and worse rebel
lion added to all the former, more immediately against God, and offering
violence to the Spirit, and in some degree a doing despite to the Spirit of
grace, by whose influence convictions are made. It is something above a
sin against mere knowledge, because it is against the present dictates of the
Holy Ghost, a depriving him, as much as a man may, of a great part of hia

John XVI. 8, 9.J conviction op sin. 213
office, and consequently of aU, because he cannot be a comforter unless he
be first a convincer. The Spirit shews a readineaa for your cure, and it is
a more than ordinary provocation to slight a physician when he stands ready
with his medicines. It is a justification of ourselves in the face of God, and
of all those sins we have committed, when we wUl not regard anything that
God saith against them; it is to be the devU's second in hia war against
God and our soula.
II. If the Spirit of God be the author of conviction, it affords a use of
comfort. It being the peculiar work of the Spirit, it is a mighty comfort to
them that comply with the operations of the Spirit, listen to these convic
tions, and do admit them to take poasession of the soul.
Ffrst, It is a matter of comfort that the Spirit should take upon him this
office of curing ua, that he wUl condeacend to be a chirurgeon to so many
putrefied souls, deala vrith them in the word, and employa his lance to let
out the corrupt matter ; that he will vouchsafe to bring the law and our con
sciences, the gospel and our hearts, together. The blessed Jesus submitted
to be a sacrifice that he might be our righteouaness ; the Spirit undertakes
to be our instructor that he might be our comforter, and stirs np the mud in
our consciences that ia so loathsome in itaelf The Spirit might have stood
aloof of, and left us and our sins to nuzzle together, without troubhng him
self about our state.
Secondly, The convictions of the Spfrit will have a good issue, if they be
not reaiated. You need not fear a lance in the handa of love and tenderness.
He is God's agent, Christ's deputy, to rescue you. He hews not those that
submit to him for the fire, but for the buUding; he cuts that he may heal,
burns that he may cure ; he is only to open the passage into your hearts, to
let in some of the blood from the pierced heart of Christ. As wars in the
world go before the end of all things, so convictions and tumults in the soul
are the presages of an approaching redemption. There ia good hopes, since
he ia entered upon the first part of his work, the conviction of sin, that it will
not be long ere he proceeds to the second, which is the conviction of right
eousness. If the Spirit did not intend your good, he would never have
pressed so hard upon you at any time, never given a heart to comply, but
have left you blind in your sins till destruction had seized upon you, and
hurried you to perpetual imprisonment. But though now you are prisoners
il is a comfort, because you are prisoners of hope. The Spirit wounds, and
wounded souls are the fittest objects for compaasion. The sight of sin must
precede the purging of it, and then the fruit of it is true consolation. Isa.
kvi. 1, God dwells ' with the humble and contrite apirit ;' not I wilt dwell, but
I dwell; I dwell there when I wound and bruise, but the end of my dwelling
there is not principaUy to bruise, but ' to revive the spirit of the humble.'
The Spirit is Chriat'a deputy, therefore doth nothing but pursuant to Christ's
office, and that ia, to tum a ' apirit of heavineas ' into the ' garment of praise,'
Isa. Ixi. 1. He eame ' to seek and save them that were lost,' to bind up that
which was broken, and strengthen that which waa sick, and deliver them from
their destruction, Ezek. xxxiv. 12, 16, ' in a cloudy and dark day.' Such a
temper was our Redeemer of when God entrusted him; such a temper is the
Spirit of. Our Redeemer would not have sent one of a different nature from
himaelf; the same nature ia in all the three persona ; they are one in nature,
one in affection, one in design of the salvation of man. What though the
troubles of any man may be grievous at present, and he may be like a hart
hunted and standing at a bay, at a loss what course to take ! It is no ground
of discouragement. When our sins were set home upon our Redeemer, they
put him to a stand : John xii. 27, ' What shaU I say ? ' Yet the issue was

214 chabnock's wobks. [John XVI. 8, 9.
glorious to God and hunself, and to poor souls. The Spirit wiU deal no
otherwise with the members than God with the Head.
III. Use of exhortation. If the Spirit be the author of conviction, the
First exhortation is to those who have been convinced by ihe Spirit.
(1.) Be thankful to God. It is a matter of praise that God hath
driven you to him, though with sharp lashes, and a greater matter of
praise if he drew you only with cords of love. That God should em
ploy his Spirit to be his aolicitor to sinners ; that he left you not to find
out the filthiness and danger of your atate by your own blind eyes. You
have had fairer draughts of hia power and goodneas. When you were
under troubles, did you ever think the mountains would have been re
moved ? did you ever think comfort would have dawned on you ? Since
any of you have received light, you see the blessed skill and power of the
Spirit ; you were ' brought low, and he helped you,' Ps. cxvi. 6 ; bless
your strong deliverer ; bless that skilful chirurgeon that cured though he
lanced. When Peter was brought ont of man's prison, he considered it
with great aatonishment ; much more consideration is due when we are
brought out of God'a prison, Pa. xhi. 6. It was God's counsel in your
reins, though sharp like the pain of the stone, bless him for it. He hath
given you but a drop of hell, when he might have shot all his granadoes into
you, and at last have shot you out of his sling into hell. He hath brought
you from prison that he might bring you to a throne of grace, and give you
a pardon. (2.) Compassionate others, and assist the Spirit, when you find him at
work upon others, in such a condition. By thia we become hke Chriat, who
learned pity to us by experience of our infirmities ; and we should leam it
to others, by reflection on what we felt ourselvea. To quench amoking flax
ia to be unlike our Saviour, and thwart the work of the Spirit ; kindle it,
therefore, into a quicker flame by your breath. Nothing so tender as an
afflicted conscience, which therefore must be tenderly dealt with. Rake not
in the wounds of any that are affiicted for sin ; to help forward affiiction wiU
be as httle pleasing to God in spiritual aa temporal troublea. The Spirit
acts in this office as a comforter, and the comforts you have had are for
others as well aa youraelves : 2 Cor. i. 4, ' Who comforteth ns in all our
tribulation, that we may be able to comfort them whioh are in any trouble
by the comforts wherewith we ourselvea are comforted of God.' Pour in,
therefore, balm, and not vinegar.
(3.) Take heed of offending and quenching the Spirit. Let not new ains
make the Spirit take his old sword into his hand ; the second wound wiU be
worae than the first. Love enraged strikes more keenly. Darid had more
sharp terrors after hia fall into the sina of murder and adultery than any
time before that we read of Anguish and terror wiU fall on the doers of
iniquity, to the Jew, the professing party, as weU aa to the GentUea, Rom,
ii. 9, 10, but glory and peace, spiritual communications of divine goodness,
and an unspotted joy, attend the doing good. If you would avoid wounds of
conscience, avoid ains which grieve the Spirit. Conscience, that checks men
for acts of a sensual life, even for those that are more generous, never checks
the soul for its aspiring upward, and attempts toward a closer communion
with God. Peace ia the ' effect of righteousness,' Isa. xxxii. 17 ; the loving
God's law affords great peace, peace in abundance, Ps. cxix. 165. Peace
can then only be as the river, when our righteousnesa is as the waves of the
sea ; therefore quench not that Spirit that hath convinced you, and do not
by new sina drive him away.
(4.) Exercise faith much. Faith was first acted by you before you were

John XVI. 8, 9.] conviction op sin. 215
brought from under those pressures you felt ; it must be stiU acted for keep
ing them from returning on you. Faith was the medicine that cured your
wounds, and faith is the only antidote to prevent new ones ; faith acted will
make your inherent righteousneas more vigorous, and the more holiness the
more peace. Christ constantly in the eye wiU make Christ formed in the
heart thrive and rejoice.
Secondly, The second branch of the exhortation is tp those who are under
convictions for sin. If there be any that at present are under conviction
for sin,
(1.) Murmur not against God. It is the Spirit's work; murmur not,
therefore, against him ; let not your hearts fret within you while the Spirit
is raking up the mud to make you view it ; let there be no breakings out of
impatience whereby to quench the Spirit. Murmuring is the way to lose
the possesaion of our souls and the expectation of our comforts. Deal not
with God as Job's wife would have had him to have done, ' Curse God, and
die,' Job ii. 9. Tumultuousness of spirit against God is a diabolical temper,
a resemblance t6 that of the damned, who blaspheme God under thefr tor
ments, and curse God when ain gnaws their conacience. To lie patient under
the Spirit's hand ia a Chriat-Uke frame, who uttered not a word againat his
Father, when the ains of all the world were laid upon him to bear the puniah
ment of them. Speak well of God, and as bad of the loathsomeness of your
hearts as the Spirit himaelf doth. This ia a holy compliance. To hinder
pettishness, consider God aa a aovereign who hath power over you, and as a
gracious sovereign who hath an affection for a man under hia rebukes ; repre
sent him to yourselves, not only in his severity, but in his mercy also, laying
the foundation deep that he may make the building more strong, beautiful,
and lasting. Murmur not, unless you had rather remain in league with the
devil than have the band broken.
(2.) Run to the same hand for healing whioh wounded you. The wounds
of the Spirit may sometimes be skinned over by other helps, and left in
wardly rankling, but they can be cured only by the same hand that made
them : Isa. Ivii. 17, 18, ' For the iniquity of hia covetouanesa was I wroth,
and smote him : I hid me, and waa wroth, and he went on frowardly, in the
way of his heart. I have aeen his ways, and wiU heal him ; I wiU lead him
also, and restore comforts to him, and unto his mourners.' It is the sense
of God's wrath, the forfeiture of hia favour, and the sinful distance man
stands in from God, which chiefly chargeth the soul ; the taking off his
wrath, the beaming of his favour, filling up the gulf between God and the
aoul, belong only to God. The longing of a woman cannot be satisfied with
the most delicious fruit if she hath not the very thing ahe longa for, but there
will be indelible characters printed upon the foetus. Since our natural blind
ness by the fall, we are not able to find out truth, there is need of his Spirit
to enhghten and guide us ; hence is he called the Spirit of truth. And since
sin raiaeth storms in the conacience, which no vrit of mere nature or strength
of reason can compose, there is need of the Spirit to silence the storms of
conscience ; hence he ia called a comforter, to dispel them. As you are
wounded by the Spfrit in the word, so look for cure from the Spirit in the
word. Nathan had assured Darid of a pardon by God's order ; David
would expect the joy of it only from God by his Spirit : Ps. h. 12, ' Restore
to me the joy of thy salvation.' Though he had an assurance from Nathan
of a pardon, he would have it alao from the Spirit of God. If the Spirit be
ailent, no other voice oan be mnaical ; give God, therefore, the honour of
his own prerogative. The key of peace is held in the hand of God, not iti
the mouth of the creature ; peace is contained in the cabinet of the word,

216 chabnock's woeks. [John XVI. 8, 9.
and God only can unlock it ; it is an effect of God's creating power, Isa.
Ivu. 19. Since the conquest sin hath made of us, the heart is but a tem
pestuous place ; there ia always matter for storms, as in the world for ex
halations ; when they are raised, only Christ by hia Spirit can say to the
waves, ' Be still.' Spiritual storms will obey no other voice. TUl you find
anything in the world that can equal God in a creative omnipotency, ex
pect no peace from it ; sin must be removed before peace can be settled.
Only the blood of Christ can stop the mouth of conscience, and none but
the Spirit can drop it into the conscience. The application of it is only
by the Spirit, as the offering it on the crosa was by him. But it must
not be in a way of enthusiastic expectation. As he wounded you in the
word, so he will heal you by the word also. He ia faithful to Christ that
sent him, and takes of his to shew it to us, that is, of his truths ; he takes
his healing herbs ont of no other garden. Though peace be the fruit of
a creative power, yet it is the fruit of the lips. And the Thessalonians
received the 'joy ofthe Holy Ghost' by receiving the word,' 1 Thess. i. 6.
Thirdly, Have recourse to Christ's atonement. Troubles of spirit are the
arraignment and indictment of the soul before God. It is by Jesus Christ
only, in whom God hath writ all the characters of his mercy, that we can be
freed from the danger. In him yon will see a wrathful justice appeased, and
a provoked God reconciled. It is this blood only that quenches the fury of
God and the fire of conscience ; it is by his blood only we are justified, and
by this blood only can we be pacified. An infinite wrath you fear, an infinite
satisfaction must expel your fears ; that that quenches the fire of conscience,
must be water from the weU of salvation. There are two things trouble a
convinced sinner, the sight of guilt and the weakness of righteousness. He
sees himself much in debt, and nothing to satisfy, is sensible he is come
short of the glory of God, that the righteousness of God will bar heaven
against his unrighteousness. He must then go to Christ to pay his debt,
and impart his righteousnesa. When David found iniquity prevaUing, he
had recourse to this, Ps. Ixv. 3. Christ is a physician lor the sick, a saviour
for the lost, a redeemer for the captives, a refiner for the filthy, a surety
for the debtor, and a priest for the sensible sinner. In him we may see
both our weakness and our remedy ; his riches will make us sensible of our
poverty, his fulness of our emptiness, his medicines of our sickness, his ran
som of our bondage, his glory of our misery, This is the way to make a legal
conviction commence evangelical.
Fourthly, Those that are under conviction should wait upon God for a
good issue. Be not too hasty to break prison, but stay God's leisure ; call
upon him, and he will be near you in a way of grace, though not immediately
in a way of comfort. ' The Lord is nigh to all them that call upon him in
truth,' Ps. xiv. 18. It is not for want of means that God doth not presently
comfort ; he hath endless comforts by him, but he stays for a fit season, that
he may come with double love, for his own glory and his creatures' advantage ;
as Christ deferred the raising Lazarus till certainly dead, that the miracle
of his resurrection might be indisputable, and his glory in raising him more
iUustrious. God leaves men under a cloud to exercise their faith, which
many times is most strong where there is least feeling, otherwiae it would
not be faith but sense that would make us come to him by prayer; he keeps
the day dark that we may fiy to him in prayer, which we should not regard
had we comforts at pleasure. Hannah's soul must be poured out in tears
before she can have the desire of her heart. God keeps us under matter of
prayer, before he giveth us matter of praise, that we may praise him with
higher strains : ' He that hath torn will heal, he that hath smitten will bind

John XVI. 8, 9.] conviction of sin. 217
up,' Hosea vi. 1. Exercise what little faith there is in such a case, Christ
did so in his agony : ' He offered up strong cries and prayers to him that
was able to save him from death.' God will knock off your fetters in time,
when the soul finds the greatest need, and ia in the fittest posture to glorify
him : Ps. 1. 15, ' CaU upon me in a day of trouble, and I wiU deliver thee,
and thou ahalt glorify me ;' implying that God wUl deliver at such a time
when there is the greatest occasion to glorify him ; when you are most humble,
he will hear your cry, 2 Chron. vii. 14.
Fifthly, All the time of your waiting for the taking off your trouble which
may be upon your spirit, desire cleansing as well as comforting grace. To
deaire only comfort is more selfish, to desire purging ia an aim more at the
glory of God, who cannot be honoured without holinesa. David put up
more prayers for purging than pardoning mercy. The waters that proceed
from the throne of the Lamb are not only refreshing and cooling, but also
purging and cleansing. A divine nature is necessary to a divine peace ;
cordials are not so necessary, but may be dangerous, when the humours are
atrong ; purging ia then more needful. The comforting Spirit is first a Spirit
of holiness, and Christ ia Melchizedek, a king of righteouanesa, before a
king of peace. Besides, restoratives are best when purgatives have gone
before. Now because men are apt to run to wrong means, and take ways of
stupefying rather than rightly appeasing conacience, it will not be amiss to
give some directions to avoid this rock on which some split. Man is so lull
of enmity against God, that he takes hold of what first comes to hand, and
would rather gather ease from any thing than go to a mediator of God's
appointment. A sense of sin is always attended with a look after a remedy :
0 wretched man that I am, who shall deliver me ? Take heed of some
things in such a case :
(1.) Take heed of false opinions. As the word is the instrument of com
fort, so the truth upon which comfort is founded must be tried by the word.
The Spirit must take of Christ's, the truths of Christ, and shew it to ua :
' The atatutea of the Lord are right, rejoicing the heart ; the commandment
of the Lord is pure, enlightening the eyes,' Ps. xix. 8. Poison may be fair
to the eye, and delightful to the palate, but hurtful to the life. Men in
dihtress of spirit are apt to catch at every rotten plank, like men ready to be
drowned. Puddle- water will be swallowed down in extremity, as eageriy as
tbe juice of a delicious grape ; the appetite desiring something to cool the
bowels, considers only what may give it some refreshment. False judg
ments either of the disease or of the proper remedy are equally dangerous.
In this case men are like sick persons, that ask advice of every friend, scrape
up many remedies, but never go to a skilful physician. Take heed of false
opinions. (2.) Take heed of carnal counsel in such a case. For if the Spirit be the
author of conviction, cleaving to any carnal counsel ia turning the back upon
the Spirit. Flesh and blood are bad counsellora in this affair, they will con
sult their own ease and seek their own satisfaction; to consult with them is
to disobey God, Gal. i. 6. Christ would' not suffer one that desired to be
his disciple to turn back, and take leave of his friends, which was but an act
of civility, Luke ix. 61 ; perhaps, because by them he might have been
diverted from his religious resolution, and his answer to him intimates as
much : ver. 62, ' No man, having put his hand to the plough, and looking
back, is fit for the kingdom of God.' Unbelieving hearts, unbelieving friends
are the worst counsellors in the world, and the most miserable conifortera,
their counaela are the devU'a delight and the Spirit's grief Such wUI quench
not only the fire in the conscience, but the Spirit too that kindled it, and

218 chabnock's woeks. [John XVI. 8, 9.
cause him to depart. The beat way in this case is, to have the counsel of
the wicked far from you. Job xxi. 16.
(8.) Our own righteousness and a road of formal services is to be taken
heed of. In thia case our own righteousness is so far from being a means to
ease us, that it is a bar to true peace, by keeping ua from that righteousness
that can only purchase it, and only effect it in ua. Pride was the cause of
our ruin in Adam, and what was the cause of our ruin cannot be our remedy.
This temper manifests the heart to be full of the proud phariaee's, an enemy to
Christ, for it grudgea him the title of a Saviour. An imperfect righteousnesa
cannot afford a perfect peace ; the righteouanesa of a sinful nature is not the
righteousness of a pure law ; a thorough conviction throws away a man's right
eousness as well as hia sin, in pointof justification and in point of consolation ;
and to expect peace from a road of formal duties ia to trust in the arm of
flesh. Paul calls all thinga ao when he opposed ' rejoicing in the flesh' to
'rejoicing in Christ,' Philip, iii. 8. By flesh he means all thinga different
from Christ, and to go to a creature is to depart from the Lord. Take heed
therefore of valuing your own tears in the room of Christ's blood, your own
petitions in the room of hia intercessions, and applauding yourselves in a
vain righteousness, instead of the meritorious satisfaction of the blood of
God, as though a few good duties could expiate a multitude of ains. What
are a few tears but a drop to the sea of our guilt ? What are our petitions but
as the breath of a child to the storms of our provocations ? our righteousness
but as a mite to the many talents of our unrighteousness ? Sinful duties
cannot make an infinite and holy satisfaction. As these were not our saviour,
so they cannot be our comforter ; they have no blood to shed for us, and
therefore hare no power to heal us.
(4.) Take heed of carnal contentments and sensual pleasures. Saul called
for music to drive away the evil spirit ; so do some for sensual delights, to
drive away the Holy Spirit ; set up projects in the world to avoid the noiae
in their own consciences ; and sometimes sinful merriments to expel the good
Spirit by an impure devil, is as if a man should endeavour to quench fire
with burning pitch, or cure the gout by a stab at tbe heart. Thua men use
all arts to stifle convictions, but the end of their mirth is heaviness, Prov.
xiv. 13. What creature can cure the wound that God makes ? What can
comfort when the Almighty troubles ? All carnal contentments can no more
remove inward and spiritual distempers than a crown can cure the headache,
or a golden shpper the pain of the gout. Therefore, go to none of these
things, but run to that hand which did wound you, unto the Spirit of God,
who ia the author of conriction. The
Third exhortation, to thoae who are desiroua to have spiritual conriction ;
to be convinced of sin.
First, Desire the Spirit to pull the scales from your eyes which Satan hath
put on ; beg of God, ' What 1 see not, teach thou me ;' desire him to lead
you into the seminary of corruption, and cause you to posaeaa your sins, tUl
you cry out, Guilty, guilty ; to see them in their filthiness, not aa a dunghiU
in a picture, but aa a real dunghill, offending a delicate smell. Thia courae
Job took. Job xiii. 23, when he considered the multitude of his ains: ' Make
me to know my iniquity and my sin,' not only with a simple but sensible
knowledge. Secondly, Meditate much upon the aense Christ had of ain. Consider how
his undertanding waa enlarged to the higheat pitch of knowledge ; not a grain
of malice or ingratitude in the bowela of sin but was within the compaas of
his apprehension. He understood the holiness of that God that was offended
with sm. Conceive Christ in his agonies ; consider how much sin hath dis-

John XVI. 8, 9.] conviction op sin. 219
pleased and injured God, sunk and ruined the soul, and this raay be some
assistance, by the means of the Spirit, for gaining a apfritual conviction. A
lipiritual aense Christ had, and the consideration of him and imitation of him
is the way for us to have a apfritual sense of sin.
Thirdly, Study the law in its apiritual meaning, and in the extent of it. Paul
apprehended the law in its spirituality, which before he nnderatood according
to the Pharisaical interpretation, which dulled its edge in its operations.
Fourthly, Set every doctrine you know home upon your conscience. There
ia a double knowledge, dogmatical and affectionate. We may know many
things that do not affect ns ; we may be affectedly ignorant, when we are
dogmatically knowing. Paul knew the law by the meana of Gamaliel, at
whose feet he sat, but had no sense of it, till Christ came and brought the
sense of it from hia head to his heart.
Fifthly, Attend upon the meana. God wiU honour the word with con
vincing men of ain, even of thoae ains which the light of nature would mani
fest : aa Darid of murder and adultery, which God would convince him of
by the prophet.
Sixthly, Suppress not any convictiona when they flash in upon you ; let
them have their perfect work. Cherish every conviction the Spirit fastens
upon you while it is warm upon your affectiona. It is dangerous to suppreas
it. The Spirit'a operations wiU not be fruitleaa ; it wUl end in a full con
viction, or in a curse. If the Spirit hath invited himself, and hath been
refused to be a physician, he may leave you remediless ; he may have no
more hand to knock, but dust to shake off from his feet, as a token of hia
final leaving you. And wait upon God in the use of means ; it ia there that
the Spirit doth breathe ; it is by the word he doth convince, as weU aa by
the word he doth comfort.

A DISCOURSE OF UNBELIEF, PROYING IT IS
THE GREATEST SIK

Of sin, because they believe not on me. — John XVI. 9.
Theee were two observations in this text :
1. The Spirit ia the author of conviction of sin.
2. Unbelief is a sin of the greatest malignity againat God.
For the second,
' Of sin. Not of sins, but sin. The Spirit convinceth of all sins, but chiefly
of a state of sin, of unbelief
First, As the fountain of all sin. It was the first sin of Adam. Not un-
behef of a mediator, but the not giving credit to the precept of God, and
the reality of God's intention in commanding. There waa a jealousy that
God had not dealt sincerely and plainly with him in tbe precept, as if he
thought the prohibition was not so much an act of hia aovereignty, aa an act
of his envy. It was the cause also of all the sin that grew up to such
maturity in the old world ; they had not faith in that first promise made to
Adam, and without question transmitted by him to his posterity. The faith
of Abel ia applauded, Heb. xi. 4 ; consequently the unbelief of Cain, the
head of the wicked world, is murked. If Abel's sacrifice was more excellent
in regard of his faith, Cain's was more vile in regard ofhis unbelief* The
apostle, shewing that faith makes the difierence between the godly and the
wicked, begins hia discourse with the two examples of faith and unbelief in
those brothers. Abel's faith seems to be thus in his offering : 1. He con
sidered his own sin transferred upon that innocent victim, thereby under
standing the demerit of his sin, as deserving wrath and death for it. 2. He
considered that thia sacrifice, being the blood of a beast, could not take away
Bin; but that it was typical of the Lamb promised, upon which his sins were
to be transferred, and to whom they were to be imputed, and accordingly
acted faith on that promise of the seed, and desired God not to impute his
sins to him, but to that Lamb vvhich was to be slain ; and this the very
nature of his sacrifice, being bloody, and the character the apostle gives of
his faith, iutimaes. Cain bad not faith in the promised seed ; he brings an
offering to God of the fruits of the ground, not a bloody sacrifice, whereby
he might signify the acknowledgment of his own desert, and his reliance
* lUyrio. in loc.

John XVI. 9.] unbelief the geea-test sin. 221
on that Lamb of God whose heel was to be bruised, who waa to be made an
offering. The kinds of thefr sacrifices imply two different conceits in them.
Cain's aeema to be only a preaent to acknowledge God the author of the
good thinga he had, at the best, or to oblige God rather ; for the ground of
aU his wiath was, because God did not respect his offering, did not testify
a well-pleasednesa with it. Hia offering was no signification ofhis sin, nor a
type of the promiaed seed ; he owned God aa creator, not as redeemer.*
Cain and his posterity, which infected the old world, disregarded that pro
miae ofthe seed of the woman, slighted the offers made in it, and resisted
the strivings of the Spirit with them against their unbelief, which was
principally the matter of the Spirit's atriving, because he acted with them aa
the Sprit of Chriat the Messiah, 1 Peter iii. 18, 19, and therefore to
accept him with a aense of that ain, which was properly against that person
in whose name he came and by whom he acted. The Spirit was then in the
world striving against their unbelief' in the promiae, as he is now in the
world striving against unbelief in the performance.
2. As the ligament and band of aU sin : John viii. 24, ' If you believe
not that I am he,' the Messiah sent of God, ' you shall die in your sins ;'
unless you believe me to be that seed of the woman, promised by the merit
of my death to reconcile the world, you will sink with all the mass of your
sins upon you. If unbelief be removed from a soul, tbe guilt of all other
sina departs with it ; if that remain, the guilt of all other aina ia bound and
fastened with an adamantine chain upon the soul, and that with more
crimson aggravations ; wheye the notices of a mediator have been revealed,
there is a superadded guilt to all the rest. As faith is the only means
whereby we gain a pardon, so unbelief is the only formal cause of condem
nation, though other sins are the meritorious cause of eternal death. Aa no
price had been paid for our redemption, unless Christ had offered hia blood,
so no application can be made of that price to us without faith in that blood.
Upon this, sins are flung into the depths of the sea ; upon the other, they
remain with their whole weight upon the soul.
In general. That unbehef is the greatest sin, appears,
1. Because God employs the highest means to bring men to a sense ofit.
Thia is in the text. It is the work of the Spirit to convince of thia sin.
The odiousness of sin to God appeara by his sending Christ to expiate it ;
the odiousness of unbelief to God appears by his sending the Spirit to re
prove it. That which calls for the Spirit's descent from heaven, in order to
a conviction of it, is attended with black aggravations. This is the great
errand of the Holy Ghost to the world ; the first thing he does is to open
the«understanding, the eye of the aoul, to aee the malignity of other thuigs,
in order to con-vince the conscience of this before he changeth the will.
This is the principal fort against which the Spirit plants his battery, and it
is the last that is surrendered. A terrified sinner would ran from the shot
that ia ahowered about hia ears ; he would reform, he would be holy,> but
cries out stUl, loath to believe. The prodigal will be next door to starving,
before he wiU come to his father ; and the woman with the bloody issue wUl
spend all her estate before she will come to Christ.
And indeed it is a ain ao deeply rooted that,
(1.) Reason cannot convince ofit. Christ, the object proposed, is above
the reach of a rational eye, and therefore the sin against him is not discerned
in its blackness by mere reason. Reason will not inform a man of the
stupendoua love of God in sending his Son to die for men, that were and
* Oatbarin. nximta 9-»o-i'a», more sacrifice, more acknowledgment of God. — Heb.
xi, 4. '

222 chabnock's.wobks. [John XVI. 9.
would be unprofitable servants. Neither doth it consist with the natural
notion men have of the justice of God, to lay upon an innocent person the
Bins of guilty offendera. It cannot naturally enter into any man'a heart,
that he that by power and wiadom made the world, should design by the
cross and the fooliahneas of preaching to save it ; that he that ia infinite in
love and mercy should make his Son to suffer. It is not therefore by the
sparklings of bare reason men can see the blackness of this sin. Other ains
may be known by natural light, because the duties to which they are op
posite may he known by the light of nature. As the Spfrit only discovera
the greatness of Christ, the excellency of his person, the preciouaness of his
passion, so it also only shews what a sin it is to reject Christ. As faith is
' the gift of God,' Eph. ii. 8, a grace more peculiarly the birth of heaven,
BO the extirpation of its opposite must only be from God.
(2.) Natural conscience of itself helps not in thia conviction. It indeed
maintains the quarrel against other sins, and plains the way for the Spirit's
victory. But in this case there is no auxiliary force from conscience, nothing
of a natural interest to plead for faith. It finds all the powera of the soul
prejudiced against it, maintaining a war against tbe doctrine of the gospel ;
and the tide of our own natures carry us forcibly against it. The Spirit
enters the lists aingly and maintaina the duel alone. So that what was said
of the temple may more properly be said of this, ' Not by might, nor by
power, but by my Spfrit, saith the Lord.'
2. It is a sin against the gospel ; not as a kiUing law, but an healing
conlmand ; a blacker sin, because against a better covenant. It is his peculiar
gospel command ; a precept of the highest valuation with him : 1 John
iii. 23, ' This ia his commandment, that we should believe on the name- of
his Son Jesus Christ.' Not only in regard of his authority (for so others
were his commands), but in regard of the affection he hath to it, it being
most pleasing to him, as ver. 22 intimates. The disobedience of this com
mand, then, is most disgustful and hateful to him ; it is his command, as
being the last that ever he will give ; it is a dispensation from the rigour of
those commands in the covenant of works, but ia to be followed with no
dispensation by any other. The sin against it, then, ia against the utmost
gracious command that God will ever give. Other sins are against the
precepts of his sovereignty, thia against the precepts of his grace, as well as
his sovereignty. The keeping this command brings bim near to us to abide
in us, ver. 24, the breaking this command sets him at a distance from us, and
makes our persons and services loathsome to him. Wickedness against the
gospel is greater than wickedness againat the law, because the evangelical
revelation hath more of grace and more of glory, the ain againat it hath Aore
of contempt and more of heinouaness ; a sin against that is a sin dyed seven
times blacker, and will have a furnace seven times hotter. It ia against
the gospel, which is ao holy a declaration of God'a wUl that there cannot be
an holier ; so good in itaelf, ao profitable for man, that nothing can be
better ; the ain therefore against it is so bad, that nothing can be worse.
The law or covenant of worka never discovered the object of ifaith, and
therefore never enjoined any such formal act of faith in a mediator, and
therefore takes no cognisance of this sin of unbelief It, not making known
the person to be beheved in, cannot make known the sin of not believing.
If the law commanded faith in relation to the object of Christ crucified, it
must then acquaint us with Christ crucified. It would be an unreasonable
law to enjoin an act about such an object, and never discover one syUable
of that object to us. It doth not appear that Adam had any knowledge of
Christ ; the revelation of that bears date after his faU, at the time of the first

John XVI. 9.] unbelief the gbeatest sin. 223
promise. If unbelief were a sin only against the law, then those that reject
the gospel would be liable to no more punishment, than if they had been
only under the law ; but they will, as will appear in the sequel of thia dis
course. Thia faith ia the peculiarity of the gospel; and when Christ is said
to come ' preaching the gospel,' the matter of it is, ' repent and believe,'
Mark i. 14, two things that never entered into the heart of the law to con
ceive. It ia therefore a sin againat the whole gospel, since the deaign
of that ia to remove our suspicions of God, and estabhsh a trust in him ;
upon which account the Gentiles, that are without the gospel, are described
by the title of men ' without hope,' 1 Thes. iv. 13. Unbelief is a makmg
ourselves without ground of hope, contrary to all the encouragements of hope
which God givea us in the gospel.
3. Unbelief is a ain against the highest testimony. It is against the two
greatest witnessea that ever were, or can be, viz., the Father and the Son.
The Father in the Old Testament, the Son in the New : John viii. 17, 18,
' I am one that bear witness of myself, and the Father that sent me bears
witness of me.' What did they witness ? That Christ waa the light of the
world, ver. 12. The Father witnessed this in the Scripture : Isa. Ixix. 4,
' I will give thee for a light to the Gentiles ; ' and by the works he did, John
X. 37. Christ the eternal Xoyog (the word) bears witness to his human
nature. Since the testimony of two men of credit is worthy of belief, much
more the testimony of two persons in the Deity, infallible in their testimony,
in whom there can be no auspicion of falaity. Therefore Christ saith to
Nicodemus, John iii. 11, ' We speak that we do know, and testify thatwhich
we have seen.' We, i. e. my Father and I ; in answer to Nicodemus, who,
ver. 2, acknowledged him a teacher come from God; therefore, saith Christ,
we, God who hath sent me, and I, witness this. The witness follows, ver. 15,
that ' whosoever believes in him should not periah, but have everlaating life.'
It is a ain against the witness of the whole Bible.
4. As faith is the choicest grace, ao that which ia opposite to it must be
the greatest sin. It hath as high a place among sina, aa faith hath among
graces, and hath the precedency of all other sins, as faith hath the pre
eminence above all other graces ; and what faith is in the nature of grace,
unbelief is contrary to it in the nature of sin. Faith glorifies God, unbelief
vilifies him ; one justifies him, the other condemns him. ' Faith works by
love,' Gal. v. 6, excites a love of God, and ia excited by it ; unbelief works
by hatred. Faith ia the apfrit that quickens all obedience ; all the fruits of the
Spirit grow upon the root of faith ; all the fruits of the flesh grow upon the
root of unbelief. Faith turns common works into acta of grace, aa the
chemiat doth metals into gold ; unbelief turns all into dung and poiaon.
Faith makes every prayer, though weak, an acceptable sacrifice; our prayers
can no more enter into heaven by unbelief than the Israelites could enter
into Canaan. As Christ is ' precious to them that beheve,' 1 Peter i. 7, so is
he odious to them that believe not ; as faith is a consent to take Christ for
an husband, so unbelief is a flat refusal of him. Faith cuts off all self exal
tation : Rom. iii. 27, ' Boasting is excluded by the law of faith,' and by the
grace of faith too ; unbelief supports it. It is a keeping up a pride greater
than that of Adam's, a pride against God ; it is indeed the Beelzebub,
the prince of all those legions of sinful devUs that quarter in the heart of a
natural man.
5. It is more odious and loathsome to God, and hath in some respect a
greater demerit in it, than sins against the light of nature. ' The killing an
ox is as the slaying a man,' Isa. Ixvi. 3. Not simply the kUhng an ox, but
by reason of the unbelief in the Messiah, the ground of keeping up the

224 chabnock's woeks. [John XVI. 9.
ceremonial worship by sacrifices after the exhibition of Christ in the promise,
which made a worship formerly instituted as odious as murder, which was
a disparaging the image of God. Sodom was not defiled by ita pollutions,
as Capernaum was by refusing Christ. Who can think of the sin of Sodom
vrithout indignation and horror ? Yet the punishment of unbelievers being
greater than theirs, imphes the sin to be more grievous ; because the un
spotted righteousness of God would not inflict a punishment above tbe merit
ofthe offence; he exacts no more than iniquity deserves. Job xi. 6. Now,
'it shall be more tolerable for Sodom and Gomorrah in the day of judgment
than for' a city or person that rejects the offers of tbe gospel. Mat. x. 15.
That city was an epitome of hell both for sin and judgment, yet that defiling
sin hath less guilt, less filth than the rejecting, purifying gospel grace. The
punishment of Sodom should be like that of the whip to the punishment of
rebels under the light of the gospel, which should be as the torment of a
rack. The ain therefore is of a lighter tincture, like petty larceny to murder.
All other sins indeed strike at some one or two attributes of God, and of
God as considered as Creator ; but this is a formal injury to God in all his
perfections, and aa appearing in the richest dress. Other sins being con
versant about some created matter, preferring some creature before God,
this is a preferring that very sin, the loathsomest thing under heaven, before
a God of glory and an excellent Saviour. Other sins are conversant imme
diately about some inferior object, this strikes dfrectly at God himself. It
is therefore called the sin: Heb. xii. 1, 'Let ns lay aside every weight, and
the sin which doth so easily beset us.' The name of weight is given to
other sins, but unbelief is called the sin. Most understand it of original
concupiscence ; but since it is the use the apostle makes of the former
doctrine, Heb. xi., concerning the excellency of faith, I think it is more
consonant to understand it of unbelief, the sin contrary to th.it faith he had
been so highly commending. This is the provocation: Num. xiv. 11, 'How
long will this people provoke me, and how long will it be ere they beheve
me ?' They were guilty of many other provocations, but God reckons their
incredulity as the top of all. It flings most dirt upon all the attributes of
God, and doth not only wrong the Deity singly considered, but bears a spite
at all the three persons.
In handling this subject, I ahall shew,
1. What is to be understood by unbelief.
2. Wherein the sinfulness of it consists.
1. What is to be understood by unbelief.
First, negatively, what it ia not.
We must not understand by it.
First, a want of assurance. Drooping spirita may be believers. There is
a rhanifest distinction made between faith in Christ and the comfort of that
faith ; between believing to eternal hfe, and knowing we have eternal life :
1 John V. 13, ' These things have I written to you that believe on the name
of the Son of God, that you may know that you have eternal life.' There ia
a difference between a child's having a right to an estate, and his fuU know
ledge of the title. There may be a trust in God where there is a walk in
darkness, Isa. 1. 10. If faith be not assurance, unbelief is not tbe want of
it. If faith were assurance, a man would be justifled before he believed ; he
must be justified before he can know himself justified. The object always
precedes the knowledge of its existence ; the aun must be risen before I know
it is ri^en. If the want of assurance were this unbelief, a chUd of God
would be an unbeliever every time God is pleased to draw a cloud between

John XVI. 9.] unbelief the gbeatest sin. 225
heaven and the soul, and deny him the present tastes of the hidden manna.
Unbelief is a sin, the want of assurance is not ; to have it is not our duty
hut God's dispensation ; he hath obhged the believer to seek it, but not to
possess it. Assurance is a fruit that grows out of the root of faith : the
fruita in winter appear not upon the tree. Becauae I see not a flourishing
top, shall I deny the exiatence and sappiness of the root ? Mary, when she
wept at Christ's feet, had no assurance of his love, yet Christ sends her
away with the encomiums of her faith, acted before the comfort dropped from
his lips, Luke vii. 48, 50. The characters of faith may be written in the
heart as letters engraven upon a seal, yet fiUed with so much dust as not to
be distinguished ; the dust hinders the reading of the letters, but doth not
raze them out.
Secondly, not every interruption of the act of faith. Faith may lie asleep
in the hahit, when it doth not walk about in the act. A man upon this
account can no more be caUed an unbeliever than a man asleep can be called
a dead man. A behever may, like Samson, loae his present strength while
he retains his life. Christ'a prayer propped up Peter's faith from failing,
when there was as little appearance of faith in him at one time as of life in a
dead man ; yet all that time there was a pulse of faith beating in him, which
was made sensible by his Saviour's look. Faith is the rital principle : ' The
juat ahall hve by faith,' and where thia is, though in a weak degree, such a
person cannot be denominated an ,unbeliever. Fogs and mists darken the
sun, but put not out that eye of the world ; the sun shines though there be
an interception of his beams. Yet this is but temporary. A true behever
cannot be long without acting faith, no more than a living man can be with
out breath and some kind of motion. Thomas was not without faith, though
his faith was at preaent asleep and had a defect in it.
Thirdly, not doubts, which may frequently step up in the soul. Such
there are in the beginnings of faith, when the state of the soul ia like that of
the twilight, a mixture of light and darkness. Such a condition the soul is
in, in its first conversion ; as the Jews were when the chains of their captivity
were knocked off, ' like men in a dream,' Ps. cxxri. 6, 7, scarcely believing
the performance of that which they vehemently desired, expected and believed
in the promise, scarce imagining that they, so lately dead in a civil sense,
should live and return to thefr land. When men are in a state of nature,
they are most swayed by self-love and presumption ; when they come into a
state of grace, there riseth up jealousy and fear, and they think they cannot
run far enough from the other extreme. Thia is a jealousy principally of
themaelves, but it redounds upon God. The mother and nurse of it is a
secret partial infidelity, the ignorance of the promise, power, and extent of
the mediation of Christ. Thia is not an unbelief habitually settled ; it is
rather a miabelief than unbelief, and rather a start of passion, a fit of infirmity,
as Asaph : Ps. Ixxvii. 10, ' This ia my infirmity,' when he had doubted
whether there were any mercy left in God, when he believed God had parted
with all his bowels, it was from a sudden storm, not a settled way of argu
mentation. Not only at the beginning of faith, but after a full-grown faith,
there may be some doubtinga. David was none of the lowest form ; when
in a fit he gives the lie to God through the sides of hia propheta : Pa.
cxvi. 10, 11, ' I aaid in my haste aU men are liars ;' I did not seriously,
and as my judgment, say so. All men are hars, the prophets too, who have
brought to me the message of a kingdom. He casts the dint of his passion
in the face of the promise ; this waa the pang of unbehef, not an evil heart
of unbelief. He was a man after God's own heart in his state, though not
VOL. rv. ^

226 chabnock's woeks. [John XVI. 9.
in that act. Doubting doth not imply a want of faith, but a weakness of
faith. Christ acknowledgeth the few grains of Peter's faith when he reproves
him for doubting : Mat. xiv. 81, ' 0 thou of little faith, wherefore didst
thou doubt ?' A divine spark may live in a smoke of doubts without a
speedy rising into a flame. When grace is at the bottom of doubting,
there wiU be reliance on Christ, and hvely petitiona to him. Peter's faith
staggers when he began to sink, but he casts a look, and aenda forth a cry to
hia Saviour acknowledging his sufficiency : Mat. xiv. 80, ' Lord, save me.'
Sometimea those doubtings strengthen our trust, and make ua take faster
hold on God : Ps. Iri. 3, ' What time I am afraid, I wUl trust in thee.'
This was a fear of himself or others, rather than a jealousy of God. Had
he had unworthy suspicions of him, he would not have trusted him ; he
would not have run for remedy to the object of his fear. The waverings
where faith is, are like the tossings of a ship fast at anchor (still there is no
relying upon God), not like a boat, carried by the waves of the sea to be
dashed against a rock. If the heart stay on Christ in the midst of those
doubtings, it ia not an evil heart of unbelief. Such doubtings conaiat with
the indwelling of the Spirit, who is in the heart, to perform the office of a
comforter against such fears, and to expel those thick fumes of nature.
Fourthly, Neither .are temptations to unbelief and unbelieving thoughts
injected, the unbelief I mean. If these be not entertained, though in regard
of thefr matter they are unbelieving thoughts, yet formally they are not acts
of our unbelief If such thoughts in themselves were acts of our unbelief,
while they are disowned by us, what shall we aay to Chriat, who had as great
incentives to diffidence proposed to him by the deril aa are to any of his
members. Mat. iv. 3, who yet was without the least spot ? The proposal is
Satan's, the entertainment only makes them ours. A true believer wUl not
harbour such thoughts of God ; they may be forced in, and paused upon, but
they can find no standing credit in the heart, but vrill be regarded as the
hissings of the old serpent. If you receive them as a flash of lightning in
your faces, shut your eyea against them, give them their pass, and command
ihem to depart with a Get thee hence, Satan. If you pour out tears upon
every assault, as Asaph did after he had had a multitude of them (Ps. Ixxiii. 21,
' Thus was my heart grieved, and I was pricked in my reins,' hia soul and
all his affectiona were wounded, because of thoae foolish imaginations of
God) ; I say, if we do thus, and run to heaven for help, it frees us from the
charge of a state of unbelief upon this account. That cannot be unbelief
that resists unbehef. Whatsoever votes against such thoughts is not a friend
to them. If they be entertained with a temporary dehght, unless they fully
overcome the soul, they do not declare ua in a atate of infidelity. But if
they are received, delighted in, applauded, and grow to a settled and rooted
notion, and spread their fruits in the life, the person cannot be excused
from the charge of unbelief.
Fifthly, Nor ia it an unbelief of some truths through ignorance, provided
they be not fundamental. Zacharias was a believer, and expecter of the
Messiah, Luke i. 6 ; he could not else be said to be righteous, walking
in all the ordinances of the Lord blameless, yet believed not that particular
word spoken to him by the angel, ver. 20 ; and the disciples believed not the
testimony of those that witnesaed the reaurrection of Christ, Mark xvi. 11,
18, 14. Every error in the head doth no more destroy the truth of faith,
than every miscarriage in the hfe through infirmity nullifies the being of
grace, or every apot upon the face impair the beauty and featurea of it.
The apostles, those glorious instrements of the propagation of the gospel,
and the first commissioned ambassadora of Christ, believed all the time of

John XVI. 9.] unbelief the gbeatest sin. 227
Christ's life, and after hia death too, according to the notion of the Jews,
that the Messiah was to rear a temporal kingdom. Herein their errors were
the same with the Jews'. But they had a faith in believing this person Jesus
to be the Messiah, and resting upon him for salvation ; so that they had an
habitual faith in the person, with a partial unbehef. The Jews had a total
unbelief in the person, though an assent to, and mistaken expectation of the
promise ; nay, after the Spirit of God descended upon them, they would not
helieve the conversion of the Gentiles, though the Scripture was more full
of promises of that than the conversion of the Jews ; and they limited that
precept of Christ of preaching to every creature as if it were meant only of
that nation ; yet those times were the richest for the knowledge of Christ and
faith in him that ever were ; and though before that they were ignorant of the
design of the death of Christ, and did not helieve hia resurrection upon a de
claration of it, yet certainly their habitual faith was not expelled. Peter's
faith did not fail at the time Christ lay in the grave, for both the promise
and prayer of Christ was a bar against it. Their faith, indeed, was stupe
fied and nonplussed at present ; but it is one thing not to believe through
weakness and ignorance, and another thing not to believe through wilfulness
and neglect of enqufriea. They did not believe the resurrection of Christ ;
but Peter, when he heard the news of it, did not supinely rest in his un
belief, but ran to inform himself, Luke xxiv. 12. If a fundamental truth be
not believed, be not enquired into, if a man is wilfully ignorant of it, I know
not how he can be excused from unbelief; nay, if we have a doubt of any
truth of God, and cherish that doubt with complacency, and are afraid it
should be a truth, and wish it false, I question whether thia be consistent
with true faith. I am sure such an one is guilty of unbelief in that act,
because it is an act of the will, delighting in that which ia contrary to faith.
Sixthly, Nor is it a negative unbelief (carentia simplex fidei) which is in
the heathens, that is here to be understood. The schools distinguish
infidelity into negativa and privativa ; the one is in the heathens, who never
had the means of faith ; the other privative, which is carentia fidei debitce
inesse, is in those who are acquainted with the doctrine of the goapel, and
therefore are obliged to believe. The heathens' unbehef, aay the school
men,* is not thefr sin but thefr punishment, arising from the ignorance of
divine revelation. There is a natural incapacity of acknowledging and
believing that which never was discovered to them. A man may study sun,
moon, and stars, yet never leam auch a lecture as the death of the Son of
God for the redemption of the world. Their ruin is not properly for the sin
of unbelief, but for the sins against the first covenant, and against the law
of nature, known and accepted by them ; yet thefr ruin is for the want of
faith, because those sins cannot be wiped off, but by faith in the blood of the
second covenant ; but they are not immediately chargeable with it as a sin.
But the unbelief of those who live under the gospel, and beheve not the re
port made to them, either from an affected ignorance, gross laziness, not in
quiring into the truth, or a desperate contrariety to it, is a sin for which they
are condemned. The heathens are under a material infidelity, becauae they
are utterly ignorant of the matter of faith, never had anything of divine
revelation ; yet their ignorance being so great as to exclude faith, it ia a true
infidelity. But those who have had sufficient proposals of the gospel, and
receive it not in the truth and love of it, are guilty of a formal unbehef
The former necessarily want faith, because they want the object of it ; the
latter voluntarily want faith, becauae they have the revelation of the object
made to them, and will not embrace it. This ia not a ain in the heathens.
* Aquin. 2da. 2d8e. qu. x. art. 1.

228 chabnock's wobks. [John XVI. 9.
If it were a sin not to believe, the obhgation to believe muat ariae from the
law of nature, or from some new declaration ; not from the law of nature,
because that could not instruct them in the doctrine of justification by a
mediator. There are notions of morahty writ in men' a hearta by nature,
but none of the gospel, and naturally men are obliged to no other obedience
than what Adam in innocence was bound to ; but Adam in that state waa
not bound to believe in a mediator, not because of any natural inabihty in
him, but because of the unfitness of such a declaration of redemption to
him in such a state, which needed no recovery, he then standing by another
title. But since Adam was obliged, as a rational creature, to believe what
soever God should reveal, and so bound to beheve in Christ upon the reve
lation of Christ to him, such an obhgation indeed hes upon all men, as they
are rational creatures, and the posterity of Adam, to believe when a revela
tion is made to them ; and when such a revelation is made to the heathens,
they would be condemned for not believing, because in Adam they had
power to believe, and lost it. But till that revelation be made, infidelity in
the heathens is not thefr crime, no more than it ia a crime to diaobey a law
which waa never published and made known to the people. They can no
more be condemned for not believing than you would punish a man in the
night for not seeing the sun before it is risen, or for not dancing at the
sound of music he never heard. The light of the gospel never dawned upon
them, nor the sound of it ever arrived to thefr ears, yet they are condemned
for want of beliering in Christ, as a sick man dies for want of medicine to
cure him, but his own sickness is the cause of his death. They are only
obliged by the law of creation, but the gospel was not delivered to Adam by
the law of creation, as he was a common person, but after he had put him
self out of that capacity by his fall, and the headship put into other hands,
the hands of Christ. The Scripture is clear in this. If it be ' the con
demnation that light is come into the world, and men love darkness rather
than light,' John iii. 18, the rejecting this light is not their condemnation,
unless it shines upon them. And Christ tella his apostlea, John xv. 22, that
if he ' had not come and apoken to the Jews, they had not had sin ;' they
had not had the sin of unbelief, which is the higheat condemning sin ; they
had not been guilty of it, if they had not had declarationa of the gospel by
the mouth of Christ and his ministers. And though some think the heathens
will be judged according to the gospel, because of Rom. ii. 16, ' God will
judge all men according to my gospel,' yet that is to be understood only
according aa it is revealed in the gospel ; for, ver. 12, he speaka of the
judgment of the heathens by the law of nature, and the judgment of the
Jews by the law of grace. He speaks of thefr being judged by Christ as it
is declared in the gospel, but not of the gospel aa the rule whereby they
shall be judged who never heard of it ; for God doth not bind any to a mere
impossibility, nor require more of men than what he hath given man by
creation power to do.
Secondly, But positively by unbelief we must understand.
First, A denial of the truth of the gospel. When men assent not to the
doctrine of the gospel by an act of the understanding ; * when, like Juhan
the apostate, they regard it as yiXoira, xai ipXvoighv, a matter of laughter, a
mere trifle ; or, aa the Jews caU the gospel, lliS P''^, a volume of hes ; or
as a French papist said of the epistles of Paul, that he believed them no more
than he did .(Esop'a fables. I doubt there may be many such among us. I
am sure the practical unbelief among us argues thia dissent in the under
standing to lurk in more than we imagine, as the foundation of all the other
* Clark's Sermons, p. 116.

John XVI. 9.] unbelief the gbeatest sin. 229
unbelief The firat temptation Satan asaaulta the soul with, after some
awakenings of conscience, is to question the matter to be believed. If he
can hinder men from laying the foundation of trath in their understanding,
he prevents aU the superstructure, which cannot be raised without it. Many
there are who, because they cannot comprehend the mysterious ways and
counsels of God, which seem unlikely and improbable to reason, deny the
whole word ; whereas it would be more suitable to submit to God's wiUthan
to question it. Such a dogmatical unbelief, which is not very rare among
us, is an exploding the whole doctrine of the gospel, which ia inexcuaable
and irrational, since men every day beheve other thinga upon far less evi
dence than they have for the gospel, whose divine authority is witnessed by
the manner of its propagation in aU ages, contrary to the power, strength,
parta, and eloquence of the world, and supported by a concurrence of provi
dence against and under the violences of men.
Secondly, A doubting of the truth of the doctrine of the gospel. Many
who will not openly deny it, yet question whether it be true, and think that
which is true uncertain and dubious ; thia ia unbehef Such a doubtful
opinion ia no full assent, but a floating judgment, a suspicion that it may be
trae, and a suspicion that it may be false, like a pendulous weight which
swings to and fro, as much on one side as on the other. There is an uncer
tainty in the speculative judgment, when a man knows not what he should
assent to. There is indeed sometimes a doubting of admiration, which riseth
not from any contrariety in the heart to the matter proposed, but implies a
suitableness of the heart to it ; but by the greatneaa ofthe thing offered it is
dazzled, as the eye by the aplendour of the sun. Such an admiration was
Abraham's at the power of God to raise seed out of such a dry root, Gen.
xvii. 17 ; such a doubt had the blessed Vfrgin, which was joined with a
modest inquiry for better inatruction, Luke i. 24, her reason being non
plussed in the manner of the thing revealed to her above the course of
nature. But where there is a doubt of diffidence of the great truths of the
gospel,* regarding them as of doubtful credit, this is unbelief, because it is a
judgment contrary to the doctrine of faith ; for we are not only to believe that
the things revealed are true, but that they are certain and infaUible. Aa all
suapicion is an opinion of evil with light conjectures, so a suspicion in mat
ters of faith is an opinion offalsity upon light conjectures. Such a suspicion
includes a judgment contrary to faith, because, vrithout aome judgment in
the case, there cannot be an opinion of one thing or other. Since all men
are in the rank of behevers or unbelievers, a auspension of our belief of the
doctrine of the gospel cannot be ranked under the banner of faith ; it is at
best, for the present, a more modest refuaal, rather than a downright rejec
tion. As a man ia thought to refuse a proposition when he seema unwUl-
ingly to comply with it, and will take time to consider, he that is not with
Christ is against him, he that receiveth him not refuseth him. If faith be a
certain knowledge,— John xvii. 8, ' They have known surely that I came out
from thee,' — then an uncertain opinion is unbelief. In many men there is
uncertainty from an acuteness of understanding, whereby they are dextrous
in raising objections, as Mark xi. 81, 33, which makes them uncertain how
to steer themselves, like a needle between two loadstones, which refuseth
neither, nor closeth with either of them. Such an unbelief there is among
many of us, a beheving a probability of the gospel, not the certainty ; nay,
scarce the probability, but owning it outwardly, as they would do a fashion.
Thirdly, Refusal to accept heartily of Christ upon the terms of the gospel,
which is opposite to justifying faith, when there ia not a fiducial motion to
* Suarez, vol. v. Disp. xvi, sec. ii. parag. 2.

230 chabnock's woeks. [John XVI. 9.
Christ as the centre. There may be assent, and, as some divines say, upon
a divine motive, yet a man stUl under the notion of an unbeliever ; for a
dogmatical faith is not always accompanied with a justifying, though a juati-
fying faith always auppoaeth a dogmatical, or assent to the truth as ante
cedent and preparatory, or else including it in its essence. The derils, frt m
evident experience, believe there is a God, and believe the principlea of the
Christian religion (as we believe the wind blows, the sun shines, and the air
freezeth) ; and they have had experience of the power of Christ wasting their
kingdom. Both these faiths, dogmatical and justifying, must go together.
There is a double act of the soul, the understanding to propose, the will to
embrace, suitable to the double object in the promise, which must be con
sidered aa true, and so move the understanding as good, and so affect the
vrill. This dogmatical faith is necessary, as a glass window that lets in the
light. This unbelief is when, though men profess an assent to the truth
with their underatandinga, yet they conaent not to it with thefr wiUa, and by
reaaon of corrupt habits, embrace it not as good ; when, though there is not
an evil head, there is 'an evil heart of unbelief,' Heb. iii. 12. They may
may well be said not to believe a thing, who, though they believe the truth
of it, yet have no due estimate of the goodness of it ; when there is a suffi
cient evidence made to them, both of the truth and goodness of the matter
revealed, they will not come up to the terms of the gospel. Such as those
are in every assembly, who, though they dissent not from the truth of the
Scripture, and the dogmatical points in it, yet they never seriousfy reflect
upon them, have not valuations of them. They may have approbations of
tbe truth aa it ia rational, but not an esteem and application of it aa holy.
They have no sense of the need of Christ, nor of the worth of Christ ; value
not the commands to obey him, nor the promises to rely upon him, nor
Christ to embrace him, nor the threateninga to fear him. The precepts, as
well aa the promiaea of Chriat, are the objecta of faith, so the precepts, as
well aa tbe promisea, are the objects of unbelief. The precepts are not the
formal object of faith, but of obedience ; yet he that believes not the precept
believes not the promise, which is an encouragement of obedience to the
precept. They then are unbelievers who, though they would have the safety
Christ hath purchased, will not pay him the service he hath merited ; who
postpone the commands of the gospel to the indulgences of the flesh ; who
would have salvation, but reject the yoke. They renounce the articles of
the gospel, that would preaerve their sins, which Christ principally came to
save from ; and God counts auch no less unbehevers than he did the Jews,
who cried, ' The temple of the Lord, the temple of the Lord,' and would
have nothing of the image of the Lord in their hearts. So then unbelief is
properly a sin in those places where the gospel is preached ; they are gnUty
of it who have heard the gospel. We must not cast it off from ourselves to
the heathens ; it is, indeed, thefr punishment, but our sin. That is dis
obedience to a law which is against that law, when it is revealed and knovm ;
and that is unbelief which is disobedience to the law of faith when discovered
to men. Denial of the fruth of the gospel, or contempt of the terms of the
gospel, are properly and truly unbelief.
' But of this practical unbehef I shall speak further in the sequel of this
discourse. None will deny that the Jews were guilty of positive unbelief
who, though they did beheve the gospel as it was veUed in their Mosaical
rites, and flrmly believed a Messiah, yet were opposers of him when the
mask was taken off. What they believed in the Old Testament they re
jected in the New. So among us men believe Christ to be the Messiah ;
they believe him with their heads and deny him with thefr hearts ; they

John XVI. 9.J unbelief the gbeatest sin. 281
assent to him in the notion, and deny him in the application ; they believe
his person, and reject his doctrine.
2. Wherein the sinfulness of unbeUef doth consist.
I. First, It is against God.
II. Secondly, It is worse than the sin of the Jews against Christ.
III. Thirdly, It hath many other reasons of sinfulness in it.
I. First, It is against God.
It strikes peculiarly at God. Whatsoever is done against any institution
of God is interpreted by God as done against himself When the Israehtes,
weary of Samuel's government, deaired hia resignation, and the electing of a
king, God calls it a rejecting of himaelf, 1 Sam. viii. 7, that he should not
reign over them. The slighting a mortal creature in the ends whereto God
hath appointed him, being a contempt of God, by whose authority he acts, a
rejecting of Christ, who is the highest ordinance of God, whose words are the
words of God spoken in hia name, as God foreteUs, Deut. xviii. 19, is a
breathing forth the highest disdain of God. Though it be an enmity imme
diately againat Chriat, it redounds to God, because Christ ia his Christ, his
anointed. The conspiracy is joint against both, a ' taking counsel against the
Lord and his anointed, to break their bands asunder, and cast away their cords
from them,' Pa. ii. 2. Let us cast away the promises of an eternal kingdom,
and those threatenings of hell,* whereby they would allure us or scare us
into an allegiance, to submit our necks to the yoke of their laws. Let us
slight all those reasons, and spurn away those vain hopes and fears, those cords
whereby they would draw us unto their power. It casts a dishonour upon
God more than all other iniquities ; it ia a departing from him after the high
est and clearest declarations of his nature, a representation of him under all the
disparagements imaginable, and under all encouragements of complying with
him. As those that trust Christ are ' to the praise of God's glory,' Eph. i. 12,
so thoae that diatruat him are to the dishonour of hia name.
1. It ia the greateat reproach and undervaluing of God. He calls it a
wearying of him more than other sins : Isa. rii. 13, ' Will you weary my
God also ?' The sin of Ahaz, upon which this speech was uttered, was a
distrust of God, not properly this unbelief we are speaking of God had
declared his intent to preserve Judah againat the invasion of the Syrian, and
to defeat the counsels of the league against them. To strengthen Ahaz his
belief in the promises, he commands him to ask a sign as a seal of this
assurance, and gives him the choice of what sign he pleased ; wisheth him
to put his power to the utmost trial, either in heaven or earth : ver. 11,
' Ask it either in the depth or in the height above.' Judgments against the
enemies, from the bowela of the deep to the windows of heaven. And as he
gives him liberty to employ his power, so he assures him of the tendernesa
of his mercy: ver. 11, ' Ask thee a sign of the Lord thy God ;' though thou
hast been so vricked an idolater, if thou wilt repent, confide in me, walk ac
cording to my will, I will be a God in covenant with thee, I vrill be a God to
preaerve thee, and a God to judge thine enemiea ; thy Jehovah in being their
Elohim, and manifeating my power for thee against them. Ahaz his answer
seems to be a start of a modest humility, though indeed it was disobedience
not to do aa God commanded him: ver. 12, ' And Ahaz aaid, I wiU not aak,
neither will I tempt the Lord ;' he would not tempt God, or as some read
the word ^DJ^5, I wiU not exalt God ; the words import, I will not trust God,
w Foleng. in loc

282 chabnock's woeks. [John XVI. 9.
I will send to the king of Assyria, who can better save me than the Lord.
As he did, 2 Kings xvi. 7. I will fortify my cities, train my soldiers, crave
assistance of my neighbours. Observe, though God, in his message to him,
offered himself to be hia God in covenant with him, Ahaz would not accept
of the proffer, owns him not as his God in his answer, ' I will not tempt the
Lord;' not, I will not tempt my God, which had been an argument of his
trust, and so had altered the tenor of his answer to an humble resignation.
Ahaz would not be beholden to God, he would not honour God ao much as
to give him an opportunity to glorify his great power ; if we read the words,
' I wiU not exalt the Lord.' Upon thia God promiseth a sign, ver. 14, that
' a rirgin should conceive and bear a Son, and call his name Emmanuel,'
and this should be a sign. I will not discourse how this was to be a sign to
Ahaz, or the body of the people then in being ; but take notice, every unbe
liever is an Ahaz, reproacheth the kindest offers of God. God calls to men
to turn to him, to place their whole confidence in him ; but men reject the
offer, run to creatures, and thus weary God. If it was so great a scorn of
God, not to accept his proffer for a temporal deliverance, not to regard any
sign from him, how great is it not to regard the sign of his greatest power,
wisdom, and love, which he hath manifeated in that Son bom of a vfrgin,
who is Emmanuel, God with us ! An unbeliever ia such a scorner of God,
that he is not wiUing that that dirt he hath cast in the face of God by his
other sins should be wiped off ; not willing to sanctify that name by be
lieving, which he hath profaned by other sins against tbe law ; will not
embrace that Christ which God offers him, whereby he may in some sense
render him a satisfaction for all the wrongs God hath sustained by him.
As faith ' gives glory to God,' Rom. iv. 20, so unbelief casts reproach and
scorn upon him.
2. It robs God of the honour of all his attributes. He that believes not
God, doth fling dfrt in the face of all those attributes which were illustrious
in the work of redemption : of bis wisdom which contrived it, of his right
eousness which executed it, of his mercy which is infinitely commended by
it, ofhis truth which is engaged to make good the intent and purchase ofit
to every one that believes. Either men believe not that God wiU perform
what he saith, and then it ia an injury to his truth ; or they hope for salva
tion by some other means, and then it is a contempt of his wisdom ; or
that the things proposed by him are not amiable and deairable, and then it
is a reproach to his goodness ; or they trust to some creature helps against
his command, and then it is a disobedience to his sovereign authority, or
they think him not able to effect the things he hath promised, and then it
is a disparaging his power and sufficiency. Whatsoever attribute in God is
a ground of, or an encouragement to, faith, is struck at by unbelief. The
grounds and encouragements of faith are these : God is infinitely wise, and
cannot be deceived ; he is infinitely true, and cannot deceive his creature in
declaring what is false ; he is infinitely good, and will not deceive his creature,
for deceit is most opposite to love and goodness ; he ia infinitely happy, and
hath no reason to deceive hia creature, which could not add to his happiness ;
whereas deceit among men sometimea improvea their interest, but deceit in
God would dissolve the Deity ; he ia infinitely powerful, and well able to
make good what he asserts, to confer what he promiseth, inflict what he
threatens. As all these are indisputable grounds of faith, and are owned
and honoured by it, so they are blemished in their reputation by unbehef,
and marked with a base alloy ; they are all fooliahly charged by it, and made
the common scoff of it. There is not an attribute but may draw up a par
ticular indictment against an unbeliever, for an offence against its crown and

John XVI. 9.] unbelief the gbeatest sin. 233
dignity. And as there was not an attribute but God intended to glorify in
Christ, sp there is not one but this sin doth really vilify.
3. It is an undeifying of God, as much aa hes within the compass of a
creature's power. He that denies any one attribute of God, seems to deny
God himself, to ungod him, strips him of the glory of a deity. Take but
one pin, necessary to the frame of a watch, and you take away the perfection
of it. Those attributes which unbelief stabs, are essential to the being of a
deity. God can no more be a God without them, than the sun can be a sun
without light, or any of us men without a rational soul. Unbelief is not so
indulgent as to divest God of the honour of one perfection, but of many ;
nor so mild as absolute atheism, which denies the being of a God. It is a
less scorn to deny that ever there was such a man as Caesar, than to affirm
indeed there was such a person, but he was a fool, coward, false, cruel, and
the vilest man that lived : it is better to deny his being, than to count him
infamous. Unbehef strips God of his richest robes, his highest virtues,*
which were more singularly glorified in redemption, than they were in the
creation, or could be in the creation of innumerable worlds, more glorious
than thia without the death of his Son for them. Not to acknowledge God
in Christ, is to deny him that glory that the creation and common providence
cannot afford him. Aa our Saviour was tormented by the Jewa in every
part of his body, — head with thorns, face with spittle, hands and feet with
naila, and wholly with reproaches in what was dearest to him, — so ia God
dishonoured by unbehef in every perfection. As their actions denied Christ
to be the Saviour of the world, so the acts of thia sin deny God to be the
God of the world.
4. It strikes at all the three persons. As all have an hand in the salva
tion wrought by Christ, so the rejecting that redemption dashes a blot upon
all. They all sat in joint consultation about man'a redemption ; they were
joint in counsel, joint in publication of it ; the Father in his first promise to
Adam, and in a voice at Christ's baptism ; Christ in his person, and the
Holy Ghost bearing witness by the gifts conferred upon men after the ascen
sion of Christ, which waa a testimony of his glorious entertainment : Acts
V. 31, 32, ' And we are his witnesses of these things, and so is also tbe
Holy Ghost, which God hath given to them that obey him.' The Father
sends, Christ dies, the Spirit offers to apply ; the neglect of this is against
the wisest counsel, the greatest persons in being. The Spirit was the great
witneaa after the ascension of Christ, by the collation of eminent gifts,
whereby a divine approbation was given to the doctrine of Christ from
heaven. He revealed nothing but what Christ had before done, and wrought,
and built upon that foundation, John xvi. 14, he glorifies Christ, for he
receives of his. He diacovers the eternal counsels of God, the depths of
divine wisdom, which ' the heart of man could not conceive,' 1 Cor. ii. 9, 10;
The Father beara witness to Christ by undeniable miracles ; the Spirit adds
his testimony by internal operations, and urging the truths of Christ upon
the hearts of men ; Christ bears witness to himself by his obedience and
death. So then, any alight of Chriat is a ahght of the Father and the Holy
Ghost. But particularly,
First, It blemisheth the truth and veracity of God. He that believes
' sets to his seal that God ia true,' John iii. 83, i. e. he approves and de
clares solemnly the truth of that revelation God hath made.f Men fix their
* As the word is, 1 Peter ii. 9, ' Shew forth the praises {a^ircLs, the virtues) of him
who hath called you.'
¦f Daille, Sermon sur Jean iii. p. 458.

284 chabnock's wobks. [John XVI. 9.
seals to contracts to ratify them ; faith is as the subscription to the word of
God, protesting that what God speaka is true. And it is the higheat glory
a creature can give to the Creator, to acknowledge him a God of eternal and
immutable verity. Since Christ, ' whom God hath sent, speaks the words of
God, ver. 34, since what he declarea is not simply his own, but the instruc
tions of his Father ; the acknowledging thoae declarations to be true, is an
acknowledging the truth of God in Christ. Now, as the true behever glori
fies not only the truth of the Son, but of the Father, so the unbeliever
outrageth not simply Christ, but God the Father, whose counsels and com
mands are published by him. As assent ia a justifying God, as the people
and the publicans, by assenting to the truth John Baptist declared, are said
to do, Luke vii. 39, so a dissent is casting an aspersion of falaity on God.
In common sense, when we say we believe not a man, we declare him to be
false ; and no better a title than that of a liar doth this sin give to God :
1 John V. 10, ' He that believes not God, hath made him a liar, because he
believes not that record that God gave of hia Son.' It is as certain that he
gives the he to God, as it is certain God cannot speak a he to him. Thus
men write deceit upon the promises when they do not believe them : ' Though
I have redeemed them, yet have they spoken lies against me,' Hosea, vii. 13 ;
max, though I redeem them, though I have promised them redemption by
Christ, yet they slander me as if I were the falsest person in the world. We
bely God when we believe not his threatenings, and promise ourselves im
punity under sin : Jer. v. 12, ' They have belied the Lord, and said. It is
not he, neither shall evil come upon us ;' as if his promises were like the
picture of a sun, without heat and light ; hia threatenings like the sound of
pot-guns, as if the one were toys, and the other bugbears. This ia to repre-
present God a cozener and impoator, though he hath engaged hia royal word ;
to make the whole Bible an heap of fallacies. The glory of a man is his
credit ; it is an honourable character, such a man is a man of his word ; it
is a disgraceful character of God to fancy the first trath guilty of lying ; it
is a title he hath joined with his honour aa a Creator, that he ' keeps truth
for ever,' not to part with it any more than with any other perfection, no
more than with the title of Creator : Ps. cxlvi. 6, ' Which made heaven,
and earth, and sea, and all that ia therein, which keeps truth for ever.'
These represent him with no truth to keep, or no heart to preserve it.
The guilt of it in this regard will appear.
First, It is in this respect a greater sin than despair. Deapafr ia de
servedly counted an horrid ain, a wrong to the mercy of God ; but this is
greater. Unbelief is against a divine good as it is in itself,* for as inuch as
in us lies, we make God the author of a lie. Despair is opposed to a divine
good as communicable to us, and therefore is a less wrong to God ; despair
questions not the atabihty of divine faithfulneaa in itself, but the communi-
cableness of that good promised to the soul ; but unbelief lays a battery
against the divine nature. Despair acknowledgeth the truth in regard of the
object, but doubteth in regard of the subject ; they count the divine procla
mation true, but think themselves without the compass of it.
Secondly, It strips God of the glory of hia nature, who can a? soon cease
to be, as cease to be true. Some say that if God should appear in a human
shape, light would be his body, and truth his soul ; so essential is trath to
the Deity, ' it is imposaible for God to lie,' Heb. vi. 18. If we fancy him a
liar, we fancy him no God, because we represent him doing a thing impos
sible to the divine nature, changing an unchangeable goodneaa into a hateful
unfaithfulness. What ia his power, knowledge, sufficiency, if truth and
* Suarez, vol. viii. disp. xvi. sec. ii. parag. 3.

John XVI. 9.] unbelief the gbeatest sin. 285
faithfulness, the glory of aU, be wanting ? As sincerity is the beauty of all
graces, so veracity and holiness ia the lustre of aU divine perfections. To
give the lie is incivihty to an inferior, insolence to a superior, a kind of
treason to a prince ; yet thia may be done without unmanning a man, or
deposing a prince, but it cannot be done to God without degrading him to
the condition of those lying vanities we trust to. It is, indeed, so heinous
aa that it puts upon God the character of the devil, who ia called ' the
father of lies,' as though God should be projecting nothing else from eternity
(aa the devil hath been from the time of his fall) but to mock and cozen the
souls of his creatures into everlasting destruction. It is to count him worse
than the devil, by how much they fancy him more powerful, but equally
falae. It is atrange that a man who knows in some measure what God is,
should be so insolent and blasphemous as virtually to charge him with a dis-
sembhng nature ; yet so unbelievers do, though not in positive opinion, yet
by interpretation and practice. And aa they make God as bad, so they
make themselves worse than the devil, who believea the truth of God, though
he feels only the terror of it, and nothing of the comfort.
Thirdly, It makes God guilty of perjury. God hath not only obliged
himself by his royal word, but his solemn oath, ' two immutable things,'
Heb. vi. 17, 18. His promise, conaidered alone, ia of eternal verity ; he is
true and unchangeable ; he doth not promiae one thing and purpoae another.
To this he hath added his oath, to remove all controversy and doubt which
may arise in the mind. Not to believe a man of an honest repute, when he
swears the truth of a thing before a magistrate, is a gross uncharitableness,
unless we certainly know, or have strong presumptions, that what he swears
is false. How black is it then not to beheve God speaking ? how much
blacker not to believe God swearing ? As the oath of God, the calhng all
hia perfections, hia very being as a testimony to the truth of his assertion,
is the highest ground of assurance that can be given, so the not beheving it
is the higheat injury that can be offered to a God of truth. He annexeth his
oath to his word for the encouragement of sinners to faith and repentance :
Ezek. xxxiii. 11, ' Aa I live, I have no pleasure in the death of the wicked,'
As I am an eternal, immortal being, so surely do I delight not in the death
of a ainner, but in his conversion and life. How great a charge of perjury
doth unbehef bring against God, whoae condescension hath been so infinitely
wonderful as to give us his oath for a cure of our mistrust, to invite men to
faith and repentance upon the security of his own eternal life and being !
Fourthly, It is aggravated from the cleameaa of the revelation. The higher
the revelation is, the stronger argumenta there are bf the divine authority,
and the greater contempt of the truth and authority of the person ao reveal
ing. If an angel should bring a message from heaven, what man would be
jealous of the truth of it, when brought by so pure a creature ? But this
revelation was made by the Son of God, who lay ' in the bosom of the
Father,' John i. 18, and is trath itself; to the propagation of which truth,
neither the vrit and eloquence, the strength and valour, the wealth and inte
rest of the world can lay any claim. It hath appeared in the whole progress
with a divine stamp in the forehead of it. The first declarationa of it were
laid in the sufferinga of the pubhshera : Could auch multitudea be thought
to lose their lives, so dear to man, for a mere falsity? No man is so
mad as to invent a fable, and to stand to it to the loss of his Ufe, and what
soever is of most account with him in the world. Would any affection to
Christ have animated them to expose themaelves to the sharpest Bufferings,
had they had but any jealousiea that Christ was an impoator ? No, they
would rather have expressed their hatred than their love (who can love an-

236 chabnock's woeks. [John XVI. 9.
other for a gross abuse of him ?) or had they been so extravagant as to be
desirous to keep up the credit of their Master, would they for it have made
themselves the public scorn and off-scouring of the world ? It could not be
covetousness or ambition, or any other lust, which could be the principle of
their publication of Christianity ; the httle wealth they had, they forfeited
for it. No ambition could build any hopes of worldly honours upon the doc
trine of a crucified Christ. The Jews had lately crucified the Master, and
were not like to honour the servants for a charge of murder against the Son
of God. The Gentiles were not hkely to receive it, and applaud them for
it by any strength of nature. Ambitious men take rational courses for at
taining honour ; but this was against the rooted customs of the world, which
are hardly parted with ; and contradictera of ancient religiona use to be vio
lently persecuted to death for the honour of their acknowledged gods. But
had such principles excited them to a pubhcation of this doctrine, surely they
would gladly have desisted, after they had found thefr hopes without suc
cess, when they found blows instead of honours ; or they would have armed
the professing multitudes, and conquered countries ; but they used not their
Bwords against thefr enemies, but received the strokes of their enemies'
swords into their own breasts, for the defence of the doctrine ; and that not
for a time, but during their whole lives. Not one sword was drawn in the
defence of it by any votary to it. They resisted no force uaed against them,
though, by reason of their multitude, they were capable of preserving them
selves, and of offending thefr enemiea. Thefr disciphne was strict, the
maxims oftheir doctrines were advantageous to mankind; they .thwarted no
moral precepta that were amiable by the light of nature, but highly advanced
them ; there could not be a way of pubhshing it more clear and fuU, to ma
nifest it to be the truth and doctrine of God, than this. Had it been uttered
by the voices of angels in the air, we might have suspected them to be
impure derils as soon as holy angels. When the way of the revelation of
the gospel hath been altogether dirine, without any taint of worldly meana
for the propagation of it, the not believing it, the not complying with the
precepts and promises of it, is an high contempt of divine truth.
Fifthly, It is aggravated from the performance of God'a goapel promises.
It ia a great ain not to believe the truth of God when it ia declared, but a
greater not to believe it when it hath been made good. It is not only a
word, but ' a tried word, as silver tried in the fire,' which hath been found to
be good and sound metal, and free from all mixture cf baser metals, as lead
or tin, with it. Pa. xviii. 80. ' The word of the Lord ia tried,' Pa. xii. 6,
and there have been experiencea of thia in all ages. Not one among all those
multitudes that have sincerely profeaaed him, could charge him with falsity.
God hath given the highest evidence of hia veracity in making good the pro
mises of assistance to our mediator in the exercise of his office. The promises
were made to him aa mediator and undertaker of that great work of suffer
ing for us. The performance, therefore, of them to Christ is a manifeatation
of God'a truth to us ; for though Christ waa the immediate subject of those
promisea, yet God's glory in our good was the ultimate intendment of them ;
and what was promised and performed in the head, ia influential upon all
the members, and is the main ground of faith, and so proposed in Scripture.
The resurrection of Christ is everywhere set out as the strong foundation of
faith in him. God carried him through the gulf to a glorious immor
tality. Since, therefore, God hath performed the greatest promises, wherein
his power could be engaged (for his power and trath were then tried in the
highest manner), it ia a great disparagement to him to distrust his truth in
those thinga which require less power to effect them, after so great an expe^

John XVI. 9.] unbelief the gbeatest sin. 287
riment of his faithfulness. Unbelief denies that truth is crowned with a rich
performance. Again, This sin would frustrate the trath of God in the promiaea remain
ing to be fulfilled by Christ, or but in part fulfiUed. God promised him a
seed, a generation to serve him. This was an article in the covenant of
redemption, aa the great encouragement of Christ to undertake that work.
If all were of the unbeliever's mind, would not the truth of this promise lie
in the dust ? Every unbeliever would have it so. He is a chUd of the devil,
and hke him envies God a glory, the glory of his truth and power ; and,
like Ahaz, Isa. vii. 12, • I will not exalt the Lord,' if the word tempt may be
so read, as some read it.
The power of God was the chief ground of faith in the promise in Abra
ham's time, Rom. iv. 21 ; but since the performance, not only the power of
God, which he had given an evidence of in the creation, but the truth of
God, whereof he had given an evidence in Christ ; and in thia senae the
fathers' not knowing God by the name Jehovah is meant, Exod. vi. 3. They
did know God by that name ; for Abraham calls the mount Moriah so. Gen.
xxii. 14. But they knew him not by that name in regard to the faithfulness
and truth of God, which that name signifies. Aa the unbelief of the Jews,
after the deliverance from Egypt, where God had manifested himself
¦Tehovah, was greater than before, so it is greater now, because it ia against
the higheat manifestations of God as Jehovah, in accomplishing his promise
in the assistance of Christ, and bringing forth the mediation promised.
Sixthly, Thia ia aggravated from our believing creaturea before God,
whereby we lessen the esteem of his truth below that of a creature. Have
not we many times trusted the honesty of man, who in his beat estate is
vanity, and given him credit for many pounds ? Not to helieve the great
promise of God in Christ, wherein he hath made himself in a sort our debtor,
is to debase the credit of the unerring God below that of a mutable mortal.
How corrupted is that nature that will believe man, a wicked man, a lying
man, rather than God, who is under so many obligations of promiaea to
make good hia word ; nay, believe man's falsities before God's verities ? Do
not men believe often the vain predictions of men, and their promises of
help and furtherance of business of concern, and receive them with more
gladness and confidence than ever we received the clear promises of the gos
pel ? The credit of God, that cannot lie, is of less value with men, and hath
a lighter influence upon them, than the word of a deceivable creature. What
a reproach to God is it for a man to give no credit to his word, sealed by the
blood of his Son, and confirmed by various repetitions, and yet wUl trust an
inconstant element with thouaanda, which may be lost by the fury of winds
and waves ? A patent of an earthly honour from a temporal prince is highly
valued, when the great gospel charter, where the trath of God is engaged
for security, is slighted, the highest faithfulness not esteemed worth the cre
diting. When God is not beheved, we must needs give credit to the devil ;
if we believe not Christ, we beheve the devil, there being but thoae two
heads, one by God's authority, the other by his own usurpation. Unbehef,
then, changeth the devil into a god, a liar from the beginning into trath,
and the truth of God into a lie, and the God of truth into a liar ; it prefers
the dictate of the devil, and so owns the faithfulness of the devil above the
faithfulness of God.
Seventhly, It is the greater contempt, because God doth highly value his
truth, yea, above all his name : Pa. cxxxriii. 2, ' Thou hast magnified thy
word above all thy name.' Whatsoever of God's name should drop to the
ground, this shall remain glorious in all successions of ages ; it shall stand

238 chabnock's wobks. [John XVI. 9.
firmer than the ordinances of heaven, without the staggering of one iota or
tittle of it. Nothing ia so dear to God as his truth ; he will fold up the
heavens like a garment, and crumble the earth to dust, before one tittle of
his word, of his gospel as well as hia law, shall vanish and pasa away, Mat.
V. 18. God values the promises of the gospel no less than the precepts and
threatenings of the law ; his truth hath an interest with his love in the one,
as well as with hia authority and juatice in the other. The wrong is greater
to ua when we are struck through the sides of that which is most precious
in our esteem. This sin, therefore, aa being against the truth of God, is
odious to him. As it is irrational not to love the chiefest goodness, so it is
irrational not to believe the supreme truth. No man but diaesteema another
that will not take hia word, when yet himself knows he is a mutable crea
ture. How much greater is the offence against the God of unchangeable
faithfulness, to put the lie upon him by not beheving those truths he hath
so solemnly proclaimed and miraculously confirmed ? Has not the eternal
truth reason to be offended with men for not believing him, when he pro
miseth and swears too ? It is strange that if God had a deceitful and
dissembling nature, he should discover it at no less expense than the royal
blood of heaven, and not deceive men without such aohcitoua entreaties of
them to beheve in him through his Son. To count a man a liar is to stop
all passages to a conversation vrith him ; to conceive of God under such a
notion is not only to deny any commerce with him ourselves, but to count
all foolish that address to him or are willing to believe him.
Secondly, It casta a black aspersion upon the wisdom of God. The wis
dom of God appears not singly in the gospel, but vrith admirable variety of
mysteries and contrivance, Eph. iii. 10, ' manifold wisdom of God,' a depth
of counsel in the forming it, a glorious contexture of meana for the com
pleting it, wisdom in the drawing out the glory of his grace from the rubbish
of ain, in breaking the neck of the devil'a designs, by thoae meana whereby
he wrought our ruin, even by the human nature, in bringing about man's
redemption by the disgrace, infirmities, weakness of human nature, means
seeming contrary to so glorious an end ; the admirable uniting justice and
mercy in one point, reducing them to one end vrith an entire consent, the
manifestation of the higheat hatred of sin, and the choicest love to the
sinner by one and the same act ; all theae are treaaurea of wisdom opened in
Chriat. His wisdom is more glorious in the contriving redemption than in
laying the platform and model of creation. That God might create mUlions
of worlds is obvious to the conceptions of men that understand him to be
omnipotent, and give more sparkling eridences of his wisdom in the fabric.
But how he should make justice and mercy conspire together with a joint
consent, and salve the honour of all his attributes in the recovery of guilty
man, ia an abyss of wisdom which transcends the conceptions of men and
angels till it be revealed, and after the discovery must needs leave them in
eternal aatonishment. Thia must be no inconsiderable affair, which ia the
object of the higheat wisdom in the Deity.
Now, unbelief chargeth God either,
1. With folly in regard of the unnecessariness of it. If men think they
have ability to save themaelves (as all justiciaries and fondlers of their
own righteousness virtually imagine), what a needless work was this in God,
to make his Son a sacrifice for man's aalvation I No wise man would spend
his time to contrive a way to make birds to fly, which have both wings and a
power to exercise them to that purpose, or to make cork to swim, which
hath an aptitude because of its sponginess. What is the secret ground of
the rejecting Christ, but a conceit in man that he hath a power to save him-

John XVI. 9.] unbelief the gbeatest sin. 239
self without him ? For since salvation ia highly desirable, if we will not
accept it from another upon his terms, we imply we can attain it by our
own power. What is the language of this, but that God busied, himaelf to
no purpose, and waa employed from eternity in a needless affairj which is a
most unworthy reflection upon God and Christ ; since God, being inflnitely
wise, he would not have purposed it, and Christ, being the wisdom of God,
would not have debased himself to death, had it not been for the highest
concern both to God and man. It had been inconsistent with the wisdom
of both, the one to purpose, the other to undertake, such a task, but for the
most weighty necessity and the most advantageous benefit. It was the wUl
of God that Christ should take a body for our sanctification : Heb. x. 10,
' By the which will we are sanctified ' (i. e. by the will of God which Christ
came in his body to perform) ' through the offering of the body of Jeaua Christ. '
What doth unbelief but blot out the characters of God's wisdom, the orders
of his will, accounting it unnecessary for God either to prepare Christ a
suffering body, or for Christ to offer up himself to God in it ? It imputes
the rejoicing of Christ at this body to an ignorance and folly in him, aa if it
were a folly in God to command it, and a folly in Chriat to obey such a
command, a fruitless design and an unnecessary employment. Unbelief
indeed is nothing else but a cavil with the judgment and reason of God.
Upon thia score the apostle chargeth the incredulity of the gentiles ; they
counted the gospel foolishness ; the choicest mysteries of divine skill were
of no better repute with them than the nonsense of fools and the extrava
gancies of madmen : 1 Cor. i. 28, ' Unto the Greeks foolishness.'
2. Or, if men do account the coming of Christ neceasary, and so free
God from the charge of folly, they at least charge hia wisdom with a mia-
take in the means of salvation, as if it were undertaken without precedent
consideration. Either Christ hath sufficiently performed his office or not ;
if he hath, why is he not accepted by faith ? If he be not accepted, there
is a tacit imputation in the refuaal of believing that the wiadom of God was
defective in the peraon he appointed, that God was fi-ustrated in hia expecta
tions, that he pitched upon a weak and unworthy person, unfit for so great an
honour, and unable for so vast a weight. Hereby they impafr the credit of
Chriat and prudence of God. It muat be an act of wisdom to entraat Christ
with the weight of all hia glory, aince God can no more be deceived himaelf
than he can deceive hia creature. But doth that man think it so, that will not
trust Christ with hia soul according to those terms upon which he is offered ?
Doth he not reproach God of weakness by a refusal to imitate him, and de
posit the concerns of his soul in the same hands wherein God hath trusted
the honour of all his excellent perfections ? If God depended upon Christ
for his richest glory (for where there is a trust reposed there is a kind of
dependence upon that person upon whom the trust is devolved), doth not
that man count himself wiser than God, that will not depend upon Christ
for the chiefest happiness ? He cannot possibly be freed from the guilt of
accusing God of an high imprudence, who wUl not beheve in and trust that
person to whom God hath given credit for all hia glory ; that thinks not
Christ fit to be trusted by him, who hath been trusted by God with that
which is of more value than the salvation of thousands of worlds, and by
this ascribes a greater vrisdom to his own reaaon and underatanding than he
vrill acknowledge in God's, when he aeeth no comelineaa in him in whom the
wisdom of God beheld the greateat beauty and a fulness of grace and truth ;
when that which is gold in God's eye is dirt in his, and that which is dirt in
God'a eye ia gold in his.
8. By this sin the unbehever doth, as much as in him lies, frustrate the

240 chabnock's woeks. [John XVI. 9.
design of God's glorious wisdom, in not consenting to that which the wisdom
of God hath contrived. The wisdom of a man, as also the wisdom of God,
lies in choosing the end and suiting the meana. When we approve not of the
one or contradict the other, we deny the fruit of a man's wisdom to him.
In this caae we do the like to God, when we neglect the end of his wisdom,
salvation, and reject Christ, the means and way to it ; it is to defeat hia
design, and tread under our feet the whole scheme of his counsel ; for if
all men were of the same mind, God would have discovered himself to be an
all-wise God in redemption to no purpose. Aa faith is a justification of God
in hia counsel, so is unbelief a condemnation of God's counsel, and render
ing it vain : Luke vii. 29, 80, ' They rejected the counsel of God in them
selves.' It is spoken of the pharisees' not being baptised by John Baptist.
They did not publicly contemn it, but their non-compliance with it was a
rejecting immediately the doctrine and baptism of John, and ultimately the
counsel of God. When God saw man sunk into misery by ain, and under
an impossibility to recover himself, God in hia boundless mercy and infinite
wisdom contrived a way of restoration, proposeth it to men, and acquaints
them with hia resolve how he would have men saved ; when men refuse it,
rebel against God'a decree, they reproach his counsel as well as his good
ness. The word akrsTv, there used, signifies not a simple refusal, but reject
ing a thing with reproach, and a dissolution of it, a bringing it to nought ;
as fhe word is used by the Septuagint, Ps. xxxiii. 10, ' The Lord brings the
counsel of the beaten to nought.' As God brings the counsel of wicked
men to nought, dissolvea the whole frame of it, and makes their devices of
no effect, so doth an unbeliever, as much as it is possible for him to do in
himself, unravel the whole web of divine counsel, and would make it utterly
insignificant. Against themselves ; some render it in themselves, in their own
thoughts by inward pride.
Well, then, consider how great a sin unbelief ia in this regard.
Here is the wisdom of God making a match in heaven between the
divinity and humanity,* Christ by the vrisdom and will of God stripping
himself and becoming a worm, that you may be aa glorious as an angel.
God might have employed his wisdom in contriving your ruin, but he sets
it on work to buUd a scaffold for your salvation. Shall this wisdom be
despised, which doth as far surpass the comprehensions of angels as the
apprehensions of infants ? When a scholar hath made a curious book,
wherein he hath wrapped up all his learning, an artificer a beautiful watch,
wherein he hath laid out all his skiU, what a contempt of the learning of the
one and art of the other is it to tear the book and break the watch ! Oh
how is tbe workmanship of God, which is admired by angels, dashed by
unbelief ! How is the unconceivable art of God blotted by the wilfulness of
man ! God may well say to us. Is the masterpiece of my counsel of so
slight a value aa not worth your consent ? Have I caused the beams of my
adorable wisdom to shine ao bright in the gospel, to have no other return
but a charge of folly ? You see what blackness there is in the bowels of
this sin.
Thirdly, It shghts the goodness of God. Unbelief vilifies that which
God designed to the praise and glory of his grace, and renders God cruel to
his own Son, in being an unnecessary shedder of his Son's blood. Unbelief
consists either in presumption or despair. Presumption on his absolute
mercy, which, whUe it seems to magnify, it doth shght the constituted
methods of his declared goodness in Christ ; and, in a relying upon an
undiscovered kindness, impairs his aovereignty, by prescribing other ways of
* Jenkin.

John XVI. 9.J unbelief the gbeatest sin. 241
communicating himself to his creature than what he hath appointed ; or
deapair, which repreaents God under the appearance of a cruel tyrant, glad
of the destruction of hia creature, and changeth infinite mercy into infinite
fury ; as if a great multitude of iniquitiea could throw mercy into the depths
of the sea instead of being thrown by it ; as if the clouds could dissolve the
sun instead of being melted by him. Presumption turns mercy into care
lessness, and despair into cruelty. Unbelief, in the general notion of it,
casts a scorn before men and angels upon the unsearchable richea of grace ;
it would hew in pieces the throne of grace, and wipe off the blood of Christ
wherevrith the mercy-aeat hath been sprinkled.
Firat, Thus it is a diabolical sin ; a receiving the devil's accusations of
God before God'a declarationa of himaelf When the deril was a murderer,
he was a liar, John viu. 44 ; he belied God and murdered man. An un
believer belies God's goodness and murders his own soul. He represented
God an hard master, envying man a felicity belonging to him ; an unbeliever
comea neareat his nature : he slighted God's goodness in forming man ; an
unbeliever slights God's goodness in redeeming him. 'The one envied God
the glory of his work, and the other envies God the glory of his grace.
Secondly, It is againat absolute and sincere goodness. God can have no
more addition to his perfections by redemption than he had by creation, but
a more illustrious communication of them to his creatures. If he could
have any real increase, he had not been the chiefest good, infinitely perfect.
The sin might claim some excuse if God had any selfish aims, if hia essential
glory could have been made brighter by believing. But since he requfres
faith as a necessary disposition for receiving the communications of his
favour, and what he doth offer is an advantage to the offender, none to the
offerer, to convey a goodness to us, but not to receive anything from us, it
is an inexcusable contempt of sincere goodness, a hevring at that redemption
which grew up like a tall cedar from the root of pure mercy, when God
needed not have sent his Son to die, nor a messenger to entreat, but have
mustered up an army of destroying judgments against sinners.
Thirdly, Against the highest goodness that ever appeared to the sons of
men. No greater act of love could spring from boundless eternity, than
the parting with his only delight in heaven out of his boaom for the redemp
tion of man ; so that he may well say, ' What could I have done more to
my vineyard ? ' Isa. v. 4. Unbelief, then, is a reproach of that love which
God designed to commend to the world in the mission of his Son ; and
therefore the ingratitude in refusing it is as unparalleled in the rank of eina,
aa the kindneas it alights ia in the rank of mercy. It is against a law more
animated with love than any other dispensation of God was filled with. The
giving his Son to die was the moat stupendous eridence of his goodneas,
whence faith drawa the highest encouragement, and unbelief contracts the
most dismal aggravation ; and the greater, since it is a contempt of a greater
kindness to us than what was shewn to the ancient patriarchs, who only had
a promise of the Messiah, when we have the performance ; yet naturally we
do as frowardly reject the thing performed, as they did heartily embrace the
assurance of it. Chriat is a gift, Rom. v. 16, a gift of love, John iii. 16,
the royaUest gift of God, springing from unconceivable treasures of good
ness. Is it a little sin to tum our backs upon the choicest gift that God
can bestow, aa though this pearl were of no more worth than a pebble ?
What really is the language of this acom, but as if a man should blas
phemously say in so many words, God might have kept his gift to himself,
and never have troubled me with such a present ?
vol. IV. Q

242 chabnock's woeks. [John XVI. 9.
Fourthly, A goodness ready to flow in upon us. The bosom of God is
opened, the treasures of his goodness dispensed, the fountain of his grace
running.* For men to be as deaf adders under such charms, blind moles
under such beams, is as great a wonder of wickedness as the mercy is a
miracle of goodness. And when the tenders of grace are made with that
affection and importunity, that love rides upon wings and meets us at every
turn ; when we cannot open the Scripture but we see a transcript of hia
heart as it breathed toward us from eternity, and riew the deep counaels of
God, and the transactions of old between the Trinity about man's redemp
tion laid open ; how great a sin is this, to scorn treasures not only stored up,
but ready to be given out, with the most pressing arguments and strongest
obligations to an acceptance !
Fifthly, And this perpetually. It ia an everlasting goodness, a kindness
flrmer than the foundations of the earth, or the battlements of the heaven,
which God offers; it is an 'everlasting mercy,' Isa. liv. 7, hke light in the
sun that is never diminished, the element of fire never extinguiehed, water
in the sea never emptied.
Sixthly, When we have absolute need of it. How inexcusable is the con
tempt, when rebels in chains trample under foot declarationa of pardon !
The necessity of the subject, as well as the excellency of the thing, and the
unbounded goodness of the offerer ; a necessity accompanied with an in
evitable ruin without a leap into the arms of this goodness, still adds
blackness to the refusal. How great a sin is it, then, to spurn at the
beatings of God's heart, to account all the thoughts of mercy as if they had
been thoughts of vanity, to spurn at that which angels wonder at and devUs
wish for ? This ia to treat unsearchable riches, bound up in Christ, as we
would do the most loathsome dung. For God to find out this way, to offer
his Son, to manifest such condescending grace as to entreat us to beheve,
and for us to make our excuses that we cannot come, to resolve not to
handle the word of life, this, this is a sin of the deepest dye, this will at last
silence the voice, of mercy, and rouse up a roaring fury. If we could unhinge
the world, cast a blot upon the whole creation, raise a sedition of all crea
tures against God as Creator, dash in pieces the whole frame, consume it to
ashes, that no relics of a God should appear in it, it could not be so high
an indignity as the striking at hia bowels. What is the glory of creation
but as a mite to that of redemption ? What is the destruction of the world
to the contempt of his Son, the demolishing the work of his hands to the
spurning at that of his heart ?
Fourthly, Or, it disparageth the power and sufficiency of God. Man is
naturally apt to question God's power, as though he were unable to bring
his word into act. God, therefore, doth preface his covenant with Abraham
by the title of his almightiness : Gen. xvii. 1, 'I am God almighty ; walk
before me, and be thou perfect.' AU distrust grows up from a jealousy of
weakness or wickedness in the object of it ; either that a man is not honest
and will not, or weak and cannot, perform. Unbelief, therefore, sometimes
strips God of his power, and represents him impotent. It acantles almighti
ness according to the narrow apprehenaiona of the creature, as they,
Ps. Ixxviii. 41, who questioned whether that strength that had aecured them
in the Red Sea, and fed them in the wilderness, could conquer the possessors
of Canaan and give them seisin of the country. Aa though that God who
had bridled the waves could not as well fell down the Anakims, who breathed
by hia leave, aa well as the watera moved by hia providence. If there be a
behef that God hath an intention to perform hia promise, the diffidence doth
* Eeynolds.

John XVI. 9.] unbelief the gbeatest sin. 243
arise then from a doubt of his omnipotence ; if there be a belief of his veracity,
there must be a jealousy of his ability. The apostle bottoms the faith of
Abraham, whereby he believed he should have a son, upon the ' power of
God,' Rom. iv. 21. Unbelief is then sometimes bottomed upon a secret
unworthy conceit of inability in God, as if he could not be as great as his
word ; as if he were, like the idola of men, without eyes to aee and arma to
reheve. Indeed, all unbelief doth entrench upon God's power and aufficiency.
First, In not coming to him. It is a departure from God, not simply as
God, but as a living God, Heb. iii. 12,* a God that hath hfe in himself,
and is able to communicate it to others ; he departs from a spring to a
puddle, and denies a fulness of life and satisfaction in that which he departs
from. Certainly unbelief, as it respects Christ, ia a virtual denial of hia deity ;
discards him from being the living God, from having a power and sufficiency
to save, and as it is a ain against his divine person, is a wrong to the power,
life, and sufficiency of God. He that runs from a prince that offers to pro
tect him against hia enemies, declares to all the world, that either the prince
is not sincere in his offers, or unable to give him the protection he pro
miseth. All unbelief at least denies God the honour of hia power, and doth
depose him from the exercise of his saving omnipotence as to the unbeliever,
and declares he can shift well enough with himself: ' He could not do any
great work there because of their unbelief If all faith gives glory to the
power of God, all unbelief vilifies it. If the power of God, as well as his
faithfulness, be the object of faith in prayer (as it was of the faith of Christ:
Heb. V. 7, 'He offered up prayers unto him that waa able to aave him '),
then unbehef must needs strike at that which ia the great ground and object
of the grace which is contrary to it. An unbeliever thinks his soul safer in
hia own hands than in God's, and therefore will not commit it to his keeping.
This is very visible in convinced soula before they come to Christ ; how
often do they cry out, Can God pardon ? Can he remit ? Are not my sina too
great for him ? Upon a diffidence of his power they are loath to lodge their
souls in his arma ; they cannot believe he hath an arm atrong enough to
cast a blot and dash upon all their sins,f as though a mighty rock could
not bear up a bruised reed.
Secondly, In trusting to something elae. Man is like a vine, he cannot
subsist without some prop. A trust and faith he must have, if not in God, in
something else, either in himself or abroad ; he cannot depart from God, but
he hath recourse to something else. Every motion hath a terminus ad quem,
a term to which it tends. What then we trust unto, besides God and above
God, we render in our thoughts more powerful than God. We cannot go to
anything for relief with a neglect of God, but we depose the true God and
create a new one ; we acknowledge a greater fulness in some inferior good
than in an eternal spring. A man's own righteousness, weak ordinances
relied on with a neglect of faith in God upon his own terms, are as well
deified as the belly ia made a god by a glutton, or money by a covetoua
person. Thirdly, It receives an aggravation from the demon atrations of God's power
exercised about Christ the object of faith. Unbelief is a contempt of aU those
attributes which were signally manifested about the effector of our redemp
tion, whereof the power of God in assisting him in his whole course, and
unloosing the bands of death, and setting him at his right hand, was none
* Living God is by interpreters understood as a reason to move them not to depart
from God. It raay also refer to a root of unbelief
t S. Bolton.

244 chabnock's woeks. [John XVI. 9.
of the least glorified in our redemption, since the power of God in raising
Christ is set forth to us as a ground of faith for the imputation of righteous
ness : Rom. iv. 24, ' If we believe on him who raised up Jesus our Lord
from the dead.' Hia doing the greater work in the resurrection of Chriat,
wherein infinite power was manifested, considering what a charge of imputed
guilt Christ lay under, is an eridence of hia ability to do that which is lesa.
Since it ia thus, unbelief is a reflection upon this power of God, depriving
it of the due glory which belongs to it. God hereby shewed himself wlUing
to be our God upon our faith, as he shewed himself the God of larael in
bringing them out of Egypt; and doth frequently, upon their incredulity and
murmuring, mind them of hia power manifested in that deliverance, as if in
all thefr infidelity and unbelief they did unworthily reflect upon the glory
of his strength in that work. And, certainly, since we are commanded to
believe in him who by the power of God raised the dead to life, restored
sight to the blind, conquered the legiona of hell; who hath done thinga im
possible to be acted by the atrength of men or angels ; one that hath made
the power of princes and the wisdom of the world to bend to him, and lie
prostrate before him, and come under his footstool ; the not believing in
Christ is a denial and contempt of all this power, or a tacit ascribing those
acta to some occult causes rather than the power of God. This is the lan
guage of unbelief. If those things were acted by the power of God, why do
we not firmly, really believe, and act according to such a faith ? If we do
not, it ia evident that we do not think such things were acted, or that the
power of God was engaged in them. What an unworthy charge is this upon
God, when we will believe man, who is able to do nothing without God, and
will not believe in God, who hath manifested himself able to do all things by
his own arm, without any partner ?
Fifthly, It strikes at the sovereignty and authority of God. It is a debt
we owe, as subjects, to God aa our sovereign, to give credit to what he doth
reveal, and to obey what he doth command. There is not only a revelation
to encourage faith, but a command to enjoin it, 1 John iii. 23. If men
believe not, they pretend some reaaon for their unbelief. Whatsoever any
man's reason is, it deposeth God from the sovereignty in his soul ; because
it hath a greater power over him to cause him to refuse God, than God's
word and command hath to make him accept his Son. He that comes not
for shelter, recovery, and protection to that head God hath exalted, disowns
the authority as well as the vriadom of that person who constituted him in
that office and dignity. Since Christ is enthroned by God, and ' exalted to
be a Prince and a Saviour,' Acts v. 31, and acts in it as vicarius Dei, God'a
vicegerent, he that refuseth to be gathered jnder his wing casts a contempt
not only upon the peraon of Christ, but the authority of God, who fixed him
in his royalty. Murder is a defacing the created image of God, unbelief is
a contempt of the natural image of God, a treason against the Head of the
redeemed world. It implies either a supremacy over God, or an equality
with him; either that he hath not power to make a revelation, a law, or to
enjoin a belief of it and obedience to it.
First, It is a contradiction to the resolute and fixed will of God. AU un
belief is a dislike of God's terms, Rom. x. 3, a non-submission to the right
eousneas of God, affecting a power of choice ouraelves, debasing the royal
authority to our demands, and that not to the demands of our reason, but of
our lust. It is to make the Lord of glory kiss the sceptre of our wills, and
his sheaf bow down to ours. We would be blotting out what articles he
hath drawn, and putting in what conditiona we please, when we consent not
to what he proposeth, and submit not to what he commands. Is not thia

John XVI. 9.] unbelief the gbeatest sin. 245
to pull down his coloura, and set up our own ? It is not a simple disobe
dience, but an evasion of his authority, not to acquiesce in and comply with
his conditions, imposing our own upon him, and indenting with him. We
will have so much of Christ, and so much of our own righteousness to join
with him. Other sins are against hia sovereignty as a creator and a lawgiver,
this againat hia sovereignty in a merciful deaign to reduce his creature to its
happiness as well as duty. This sin therefore implies a denial of God'a
dominion, or having anything to do with his creature. It opposeth the
return of the aoul under his sceptre, and would keep man at an irreconcil
able distance from God. How malicious would thia contradiction be, if our
redemption had proceeded from some other hand ! Such an efflux of
goodness, in restoring from slavery upon such light conditions, would have
deserved from us an entire subjection. Such a mercy had merited an abso
lute sovereignty. How much more malicious is it against God, who besides
the authority merited by this mercy, has naturally an absolute supremacy
over us !
Secondly, It ia an imitation of Adam'a rebellion againat God, in being a
god to ourselves, or choosing another. God will have the soul of man in a
state of dependence on him ; it cannot be otherwise, unless man were a god.
To make an independent creature is a contradiction, for that is to make him
a god. Adam's sin seemed to be an affecting an equality with God, to be
God's companion and equal in knowledge, which would infer an equality in
everything else : Gen. iii. 5, ' You shall be as gods,' or Elohim, ' as God ' ;
not aa the angels, for God interprets it an affectation of equality with hiniaelf
in the ironical speech, ver. 22, ' The Lord God aaid. Behold, the man is
become as one of us.' Unbelief would still keep up this independency which
Adam aimed at, and whereby he quenched his own happiness and that of his
posterity, and attempts a salvation by his own righteousness, which God
denied him when he drave him out of paradise, that he might not invade the
tree of life, after the new covenant made with him of faith in Christ, and so
have any hope to attain eternal life by any other meana than what God had
propoaed. This sin ia an approbation of Adam's act, in an imitation of it.
Pride against God doth as necessarily attend unbelief now as it did then.
Unbelief was the first ain, and pride was the first-born of it. Adam first
cast away his belief of the precept, and flung away humility at the heels
ofit. Thirdly, Unbelief renders God, as much as in it lies, unworthy of any sove
reignty. It doth not only deny his authority, but it represents him as false,
foolish, carelesa, cruel to his own Son, and strips him of the honour of his
truth, the glory of his wisdom, the designs of his grace, the arm of his power ;
and so representa him unworthy of obedience from the unbeliever himself or
from any else. For who can be obliged in reason to obey a God so coloured
as unbelief represents him, one that is not to be credited, that is mistaken
in his contrivances, that hath no thoughts of goodness, that ia too weak to
protect hia creature ? Nay, God himaelf would not judge himaelf fit to be
obeyed, if he were any of those which this sin would fasten upon him, since
all the perfectiona in God which are abused by it are declared in Scripture
as inducements to obedience ; and God makes appeals to the reason of men
to judge of his faithfulneaa, righteousness, wiadom, and goodness in them.
To call a prince a fool ia hy the law of aome countries made high treason,
because such language concludes the prince incapable of government. The
wiser heathens looked upon the fabulous gods of the vulgar, being represented
vicious, unworthy of any acknowledgment, and ridiculous deities. Unbelief
renders God ridiculous to the world, and more among us than among the

246 chabnock's wobks. [John XVI. 9.
heathens, who have absolutely denied Chriat to be the Redeemer and Son of
God ; for they own not the revelation from God, and therefore cast not that
imputation upon him, as the practical infldelity of those that believe it to
be God's revelation doth ; for they acknowledge it in a pretended opinion to
be the revelation of God, yet act aa though there were nothing but falsity,
folly, and nnrighteouaness in the whole design.
Sixthly, It affronts the holineaa and righteousness of God. If the setting
forth Christ to be a propitiation for sin was to declare his righteouaneas,
Rom. iii. 25, i. e. his holiness as well as hia justice, what doth unbelief
signify but that this act was unrighteous in God, that God waa not holy and
righteous in punishing his Son as our surety ? Continuance in a state of
nature by unbehef, after the revelation of God's holineaa in ao eminent a
manner, is an approbation of that sin Christ suffered to expiate, a preferring
it before the imitation of God'a holineaa, so much glorified in the death of
his Son ; an affecting that which is the just object of God's disaffection,
aince God, in the highest manner that possible can be, yea more than in the
damnation of the whole world, hath manifested his hatred of sin in the death
of Christ. The keeping np notoriously gross practices, or unbelief though
attended with morality, is a valuing a state of nature, againat which God
hath manifested his hatred ; and therefore unbelief, after the declaration of
Christ, draws a greater guilt upon a man than all sins before the coming of
Christ in tbe flesh, and the declarations of the gospel.
Seventhly, It is a stripping God, as much aa liea in man, of all his delight.
The service Christ did, which was delightful to God, is contemptible to an
unbeliever. God's delight and hia stand in direct oppoaition ; it ia a repre
senting God cruel to the object of his delight ; it makes God a murderer of
his Son ; it taxeth him with the greatest act of cruelty in sacrificing his
obedient Son, the object of hia delight, and rendera that act of God, which
was the greatest pity to sinners and the glory of hia mercy wherein he re
joiceth, not only a vain and a finiitleaa, but a tyrannical execution.
First, It is a refusal of Christ, the 'man that ia God'a fellow,' Zech. xiii. 2,
his 'daily delight,' Prov. viii.; it ia contrary to that which ia most dear to
God, slights that which is most precious in his esteem. It was all God's aim
in all his actions in the world, ever since the first promise, to magnify himself
in his Son. The revelation of his righteouaness in and through him, and
the compliance of men with it, was the chief end of God in the manifesta
tion of Christ to the world. The conversions of men to him are his plea
sure : Isa. liii. 10, ' The pleasure of the Lord shall prosper in his hand.'
What, then, is this sin, but a thwarting God in his main end ; robbing
him of the fruit of his counael, the incomea of his love ; making him a loser
by his grace ; depriving him of a joy in hia worka, by alighting Christ, who
is the centre of his delight, the joy of his heart, the top of his glory ; chas
ing away all gladness from his aoul, that he should have no pleasure in that
which he hath contrived with so much wisdom, effected with so much power,
but have an eternal grief in the miscarriage of hia work ? It is true this
cannot be actually done ; the counsel of the Lord stands firm, the delight of
God is above the injuries of men ; but this is in the nature of unbelief ; and
if this sin should have reigned in Adam, and every branch of him, from the
beginning of the world to the last man born upon the earth, would not this
be the effect of it ? Therefore every unbehever, aa to hia part, doth that
which would really be the issue if all the sons of Adam were in his state.
It frustrates the expectation of God, because God, in sending Christ, had an
expectation that men would lay down their arma, accept of peace, reverence
hia Son, and manifest a joy in the reception of him suitable to the joy of

John XVI. 9.] unbelief the gbeatest sin. 247
God in his mission : Mat. xxi. 37, ' But laat of all he sent his son, saying,
they will reverence my son.'
Secondly, It is a privation of faith, a grace ao pleasing to God. Next to
the delight God hath in Christ, because of the glory accruing to him by it,
he hath a delight in faith, because it owns the glory of God in the redemp
tion by his Son, and honours those attributes in a peculiar manner which
were eminent in it. Is there any grace he is more pleased with than faith ?
Is there any grace he hath put such a dignity upon ? It is called a justify
ing faith, Rom. v. 1, a kind of an incommunicable attribute of it; other
gracea are the attendanta, this the mistress. God is ao infinitely pleased
with it, aa it stands in relation to the object, Christ crucified, that upon the
appearance of it with a Christ lifted up in its hands, God blots out all the
sins that stand upon record, accounts the soul righteous, opens hia arms to
embrace it, and seema to own it as a recompence for all the wrong he hath
sustained. And what a dehght it ia to Christ I shall have occasion to shew
afterward. The soul that draws back by unbelief affords God no pleasure :
Heb. X. 38, ' If any man draw back, my soul shall have no pleasure in him.'
It deprives God of all pleasure in his creature ; it diaturba the rest of God.
Thia ia spoken of those that were within the church, and made profession of
Christianity. Thirdly, Aa it is a refusal of hia mercy in Christ. Because mercy is the
perfection he delighted to manifest in Christ, Micah -rii. 18, it bars aU com
munications of it to such a soul, because he hath linked his mercy only to
faith in Christ, where the gospel is revealed. So that when Christ ia not
believed in, the unbeliever, as far as in his power, frustrates the end of God
in sending Christ, deprives him of that delightful glory he intended by his
Son's death, makea void the merciful contrivance of God from eternity,
which was the stupefaction of angels, the en-vy of devils, the expectation of
the ancient fathers, and the satisfaction of believers, and, above all, the
delight and glory of God. So that you see what a vast injury unbehef offers
to God.
Secondly, It is a sin peculiarly againat Chriat. It is a piercing him again,
Zech xii. 10. Some think this prophecy respects, as to the time, the day of
judgment ; othera, the time of Chriat's being upon the croaa. It respects, I
suppose, some time between. The prophet speaks of Christ's piercing as a
thing past ; and at the time of his passion, there was not such a mourning
among the Jews as is here described ; neither doth it respect the times of
the day of judgment. The mourning, then, of the condemned world, shall
not be from a spirit of grace and aupplication, but from a spirit of horror
and despair. The result will be, since those that had not an hand in the
death of Christ's body are said here to pierce Christ, it must be understood
of a piercing by unbelief, which ia an approbation of the Jewa' cruelty to
wards him. Any man is guilty of an act who doth approve an act, though
he was not formally an agent in it. And indeed the Jewa did not actually
pierce him, but the hand of a Roman soldier ; yet they are said to do it, be
cause they consented to the act. It is a piercing of Christ.* An unbeliever
is a Jew in his heart and life, though a Christian in profession ; though he
doth verbally acknowledge the coming of Christ, he doth reaUy deny it. It
is an unworthy usage of Christ ; it is a using him, as he speaks of himself
in the Psalms, as ' a worm and no man,' trampling upon him with more
violence and contempt than they would upon a worm. The vilest man in
the world never suffered so many reproaches aa Christ hath suffered by
* 3p3, which signifies perforare, is put for /iXxr^n/u'v, Lev. xxiv. 11. — Grotius in
Zech. xii. 10.

248 chabnock's woeks. [John XVI. 9.
notional and practical incredulity aince he went to heaven. Judas, that
betrayed him, was never so much hated by the highest professor and ain-
cerest Christian, as Christ betrayed by him is slighted by unbelief as if he
were set up for a sign to be spoken against. ' As his visage was marred
more than any man's ' whUe he was upen the earth, Isa. Iii. 14, so his glory
is stained more than any matf s since he went to heaven. The natural dark
ness of men is so thick, that instead of being diaaipated by the hght, aa other
darkaiess is, it is so obstinate, that it excludea all the divine brightneas of
'Christ from the understanding and conaciencea of the most part of men :*
^ohn L 5, ' The light shines in darknesa, and the darkness comprehendeth
it »ot.' It contemns by a desperate ingratitude the person of the Son of
God, the truth of his word, the bowels of his love, the power of his miracles,
the ministry of his death, the glory of his ascension, and the majesty of his
offices ; and accounts the whole history of the gospel no better than a narra
tion of lies.
And though men never saw the person of Christ, yet they offer riolence
to it by ahghting the marks of it he hath left in the world. As a man is
guilty of treason by abusing the statue or image of the prince, by defacing
his seal, though he never saw the person of the prince ;-j- he violates his
authority that regards it not, owns not any act of grace from him, though
he never saw his face ; so are men guilty of trampling on the blood of Christ
when they count it as a trifle, a!nd unprofitable for their salvation, though
they never saw Christ, nor ever had any communion with him, Heb. x. 29,
when they 'count the blood of the covenant an unholy thing.'
First., It is a nullifying the work of his mediation and death. It denies
hkn the honour of his meritorious passion, vUifies the glory of his mediation,
from the first counsel to the last act, sheds his blood afresh, and pours it
shghtly upon the ground, and tramples that inestimable sacrifice like dfrt
nnder the feet. No ain doth so immediately oppose Christ as mediator.
This ia the great antichrist in the world; though this sin, among Christians
at large, denies him not in his person, it doth in his offices. Aa faith puts
a value upon the priesthood of Christ, eyes his death as a perfect atonement,
leans upon him as a sacrifice upon the cross, and an advocate in heaven ; so
unbelief, being contrary to thia grace, undervaluea all that faith esteems. It
frustrates the end of his coming, which was to reduce us to God, from whom
we had receded by unworthy jealousies of him.
First, It renders the design of his coming a vanity, when it receives not
the fruits of it. As he that will not use the creatures for those ends for
which God created them, that shuts his eyes against the sun, that atopa his
mouth wilfully against his appointed food, writes a vanity upon the creation
of God ; so he that doth not receive Christ upon those terms God offers him,
and for those ends God sets him forth, writes vanity upon the whole work of
redemption, and ' makea the grace of God to be in vain,' 2 Cor. ri. 1. Nei
ther the pains of Christ, the blood of Christ, nor the righteousness of Christ,
attain their end in such a person, who offers to him the indignity of unbelief,
and makes him ' spend his strength in vain and for nought,' laa. xlix. 4.
Some think it is Christ's complaint of the incredulity of the Jewa, and it will
extend to aU men that make no account of the travail of his soul, his unwea
ried pains and bloody passion, whereby they argue him to be a fruitleas and
a needleas mediator, working miracles and shedding hia blood to no pur
pose ; and fix themselves in a state, as if Christ had never died in respect of
benefit, though not in regard of guilt.
* Amyraut. in loc. t Wacoov. Metaphys. lib i. cap. xii.

John XVI. 9.] unbelief the gbeatest sin. 249
Secondly, It is a vilifying the price of redemption;* accounting that
blood wherein Christ was sanctified, demonstrated to be the Son of God and
Saviour of the world, and for which he was absolved from guilt, and counted
righteous before God, and advanced that he might save them that come unto
God by him, a common, an inefficacious thing, Heb. ix. 28.
Thirdly, Yea, a regarding it aa the blood of a malefactor. It ia impos
sible that an unbeliever can regard it only aa the blood of an innocent man,
that may cry for vengeance like Abel's, and be as weak as Abel's blood to
purchase salvation for the soul. It is impossible that this, though bad
enough, in denying the efficacy of his blood, can only be the reflection ; but
he must needs regard it aa the blood of the highest malefactor that ever yet
waa in the world. In not accepting it as the blood of God, he renders Christ
more criminal than Judas, and chargeth him with a falsity in declaring him
aelf to be the Son of God, and the mediator of the world. If Christ be the
Son of God, and the mediator of the world, why ia he not cordially owned
to be so ? If he be not accepted heartily under thoae notions, tbe refusal
of him declares he is not the person and officer of God, aa he affirmed him
self to be, and so rendera Christ, not only void of innocence, but guUty of
the highest affront to the majeaty of God. He that refuseth him, disowns his
filiation, denies him to be the Son of God, sees not a glory in him ' as of the
only begotten of the Father,' John i. 14 ; what faith the apostle asserts.f
unbelief denies. An unbeliever implies the truth of what the Jews falsely
writ to the synagoguea after the death of Christ, that he waa akog xai
oivofitog, an atheist.|
Thus do all persona that think to attain aalvation by any righteousness of
their own. Whosoever thinks he is able to enrich himself with spiritual
blessings, to weave a covering of his own righteousness, and make payments
of his old debts by a heap of good works, despiseth Christ's payment, slights
the righteousness of the God of heaven, abuseth that Saviour who came to
knock off our bolts, heal our wounds, and clothe our souls. He that thinks
to enter into heaven, and not by him, is a thief and a robber ; he robs God
of the honour of hia own conatitution, and Chriat of the glory ofhis mediatory
office, and the right of his purchase. And thua do all peraona who walk
contrary to the end of Christ's coming, who are enemies to that spiritual hfe
Christ came to set np, and friends to that sensual life he came to pull down.
Such may pretend friendship to his person, but are enemies to his cross,
Philip, iii. 18, 19 ; they defame the end of his suffering, as much as the Jews
defamed him in it.
Secondly, It is a denying the love of Christ. It is a stab at his heart, an
outrage of his tender bowela. He suffered willingly all those torments which
were inflicted on him, to remove from us the necessity of suffering, which sin
had involved na in, had he not stepped in to take our burdens upon his own
shoulders. If we wUl not believe in him, we deny those choice affectiona
which engaged him in the undertaking, and were illustrious in the execution.
It is as if we should think the covenant of grace more severe than that of
worka ; as if Christ were our enemy rather than our Redeemer, and came
rather to kindle a hell for our torment, than to quench hell for us by his
blood; as if he came to suffer for our misery, and not for our happiness. Waa
there any need of his coming to make us more miserable than we were before?
Did it consist with the goodneaa of God to expoae hia Son to Buffering, to
make the creature more wretched, since the misery we were simk into was
* Cocoeius de Foede. Thes. 200.
¦f Qu. ' what the apostle asserts '? — Ed.
i Grot, in Mat. xxvii. 83.

250 chabnock's wobks. [John XVI. 9.
more than we were able to bear ? If it were an act of love in Christ, why |
ia he not embraced by the choicest and most affectionate faith ? If he be
not thus embraced, it clearly implies that you have no imagination of any
affection in him, that he is rather a formidable person than an affectionate
Saviour. It is as great a slight of his love, as if he should open heaven and
make the proffers of the gospel from thence. If Christ should speak from
heaven in an audible voice, and propound the goapel articlea in the moat
affectionate strains, would not the contempt of it be judged by aU men to be
an ungrateful scorn of his love ? He doth speak from heaven in his word, as
really as he bled upon the cross in hia person (Heb. xii. 15, ' If we turn
away from him that speaks from heaven'), and unbelief doth insolently abuse
the riches of his unspeakable goodness, and slight the blood shed with an
adorable love, without which the anger of God could not be appeased, nor
the fire of hell, prepared for sinners, extinguished, without which the filthi
ness of the soul could not be cleansed, nor the glories of heaven opened. In
despising thia love, we deapiae all the fruits of it which the believer enjoys.
Since Christ was so willing to offer up himself to death that we might be
freed, and the power of the devil put to an end in us, the keeping up the
power ofthe devil in its full strength, as unbelief doth, ia a slighting the
main kindness our great benefactor intended to bestow upon us.
Thirdly, It denies the wisdom of Christ. It chargeth him with foUy and
inconsiderateness, in undertaking a task that was not worth his pains, in
suffering for the purchase of pardon and salvation, which might be gained
without so much ado. What did Christ aim at in the shedding of his blood,
but the appeasing of the wrath of God, aanctification of the souls of men, the
opening the gates of heaven, which justice, provoked by sin, had barred
against them? If men do not believe, certainly they have some conceits,
that either these benefits are not desirable and worth the inquiring after, and
labouring for, or that they may be procured by other means at an easier rate
than faith in the blood of Christ. And is not this a charge of folly brought
against Christ, who paid so dear for that, which they suppose they can have
upon a cheaper account, and without being beholden to him ? Thus some
interpret that place, Isa. xiii. 19, ' Who is blind as my servant, or deaf as
my messenger that I have sent ? who is blind as the Lord's servant ? ' As
if God should introduce the unbelieving Jewa, charging Christ with blindness
and folly, who is the wisdom of God, and regarding that as contemptible,
which was honourable in God's account. And, indeed, it seems to be the
true sense of the place, since all the foregoing part of the chapter is a pro
claiming of Christ, who, ver. 1, is particularly called God's servant. An
unbeliever injures the wisdom of Christ in not following hia pattern ; he
trusted God upon his bare word, and oath, and promises of assistance in his
work, and a good issue and success. He that will not give credit to the pro
mise of God for salvation by Christ, implies that God is unworthy to be
trusted, that his word is of no value, that aU that trust him are unwise, and
consequently that Chriat himaelf, who exercised the greatest trust of any in
the world, was the most unwise of any. When we follow not the practice of
another, we imply some defect in the wisdom of that person we refuse to
imitate. This ia truly the language of unbelief ; and the GentUes at the first
preaching of Christ were so besotted with thefr own imaginary wisdom, that
they thought the preaching of the cross foolishness, and a mere extravagancy
of man.
Fourthly, It wrongs the authority of Christ. It receivea an aggravation
from the greatness of the person that published the doctrine of faith. AU
laws are to be attended with a greater veneration, by how much the more

John XVI. 9.] unbelief the gbeatest sin. 251
eminent the wisdom and authority of the peraon ia. It was the Son of God
who died by the command arid commission of the Father. It is the Son of
God that hath left the command of faith upon record. It is the Son of God
who is the object of that faith we are commanded to have and exercise. The
not believing, therefore, is a crime of the highest nature, in denying all the
authority derived to Christ from the Father. Upon thia acore Christ chargeth
the unbelieving Jewa : John v. 43, ' I am come in my Father's name, and
you receive me not ;' yon have erident marks of a divine authority in me ;*
but because my doctrine accords not with the interests of your ambition and
imperious luats, therefore you receive me not. ' If another shall come in his
own name,' who shall flatter your ambition, and preaerve the dominion of
your beloved luata, ' him you will receive.' Thus is the authority of Christ
slighted by this sin, when the terms upon which he offers himself are dis
liked, when we would bring down Christ from hia throne, to condescend to
the conditiona we would impose upon him ; when we set the crown upon the
head of some darling sin, which we ahould aet upon the head of Christ.
Fifthly, It denies the excellency of Christ. To work faith there is neces
sary, flrst, a clear proposal of the object, supported with such reasons and
allurements that have a strength in themaelves to work upon the mind. But
unbelief denies any auch attractives in the nature of the object presented, to
move the will to the embracing of it ; it sees more righteousness in a Barab-
bas, soul-murdering luats, than in a soul-aaving Redeemer, when all the
labour, study, thoughts, are for the pleasures of sin, the satisfaction of self,
the increase of profit, and men scarce let Christ have a thousandth part of
the thoughts. If draff and awill be preferred before a pearl, it is because a
swine sees no exceUency in it. Aa faith ' counts all things dung for the
excellency of the knowledge of Christ,' Philip, iii. 8 ; ao unbelief accounts
the person, offices, doctrine, and laws of Christ dung and dross in comparison
of the excellency of aelf-righteousness, self-wisdom, self-dependence, pleasing
temptations, and gilded nothings. As faith accounts all things dross to Jesus
Christ, so unbelief accounts Christ dross to self. How injurious ia this to
the worth of an heavenly object ! to value a feather above a mountain of gold,
a box of poiaon before a pearl ofthe greateat price, when nothing can come
in competition with him, but what is infinitely inferior to him ! This unbe
lief sees no glory, tastes no pleasure, conceives no fulness, in that which God
hath furnished with an unconceivable glory, and rests in with an eternal
dehght ; it represents Christ empty, whom God stored with a communicable
fulness, a poor nothing who is a rich treasure ; it esteems Christ, who is an
overflowing fountain, as if he were no better than a broken cistern. It is
moat certain that, while God ia not chiefly affected, whatsoever is in esteem
above him is valued as more exceUent than God ; so when Christ is not
trusted, but a creature hung upon as the object of reliance, that creature so
received ia more excellent in eateem than that Christ who is refused.
Sixthly, It denies the sufficiency of Christ : the greatness of his priest
hood, the fulness of his satisfaction, the sufficiency of him as the Son of (Jod
to make a prevailing intercession, as if he had not a fulness of living waters
to bestow, or not goodness enough to communicate them ; aa though he were
too Bcanty to free ua from all misery, and fill us with all felicity. Where no
trust is reposed in him, it implies that no benefit can be expected from him.
The satisfaction of Christ was more efficacious to take away sin and please
God, than the sin of man had guilt to diapleaae him, and of more value to
outweigh the sins of the whole world, than they had weight to press man
down to the lake of fire ; because of the marriage between the divinity and
* Amyraut in loc.

"52 chabnock's wobks. [John XVI. 9.
the humanity, whereby that person, who was man, waa infinite in regard of
his divine nature. Faith owns tbe fulness of this satisfaction, pleads it to
God, acquiesceth in it. What doth unbelief ? It either thinks the satisfac
tion too short, or that a man hath no need of it, or that he hath some other
invention to content the creditor ; but the firat is as hkely aa any else, for,
since Abraham's faith respected the power of God, Rom. iv. 21, unbelief
questions the ability of God. The apostle, pressing the Jewa with many
argumenta to make them aenaible of the ability of Christ to ' save them to
the utmost,' Heb. vii. 25, vritnesaeth that the secret sentiment in the heart
of this sin is the insufficiency of the blood of Christ for thia great end of sal
vation : that it ia of no more efficacy to the purging away of sin than the
blood of bulls and goats ; nor can reach the soul any more than the waters
of a river oan purge the filthiness of the Spirit. This sin therefore receives
a mighty aggravation from the dignity of Christ'a peraon, whereby he was
able to make a valuable satisfaction, and actually did so. It is a ' light
esteem of the rock of salvation,' Deut. xxxii. 15, "iT^W of his Jesus who
conducted them in the wilderness ; as if the rock of God'a aalvation had no
more atrength than a feeble pebble. It disgraceth his power in the whole
web of his design, aa if hia merit were hot strong enough, his satisfaction full
enough, to procure our discharge, but we must have something of our own
to eke it out. The blood of Christ cries to us, we regard it not ; it streams
out fresh from his heart in the virtue of it, and flows through the pipes of
the gospel in the offers of it, yet unbehef stops the ears againat the voice,
shuts the heart against the approach of it, as if the sacrifice of Christ were a
sacrifice of no value. And since thia ain denies the vfrtue of the sacrifice of
the Son of God for the expiation of sin, the justification and sanctification of
the soul, it would expose him to another death to make hia blood efficacious;
since there is no means imaginable for the attaining thoae ends but the death
of the Son of God.
Seventhly, It denies Christ his right and reward. The restoration of souls
ia a part of his reward for his work: Isa. hii. 11, 'He shall be satisfied
with the travail of his soul ;' God promised it to him. Unbelief would make
Christ a loser, as well as God a liar ; for, if this leprosy did totally overspread
the hearts of every son of Adam, all the travail of Christ's soul would have
been in the service of the devil. Christ would take the paina, and the devil
have the harvest. What an injury is this, to steal Chriat's reward from him,
to bestow it upon his enemy ; to gratify the destroyer, aa though they envied
the honour of the Redeemer ! It is his glory to have a numerous posterity;
when ' he was taken from prison and judgment, who shaU declare hia gene
ration ? ' laa. liii 8. Generationa, in Scripture, are put for a people or
family : ' the generations of Adam,' ' the generations of Noah,' i. e. the pos
terity of Adam and Noah. It is the glory of Christ to have hia dying body
spring up into a multiplied seed : John xii. 23, 24, ' The hour is come, that
the Son of man should be glorified.' How ? In his dying, that he may
bring forth much fruit, as ver. 24 intimates. The occasion of our Saviour's
speech was the desire of aome Greeks to see him, ver. 20, and, in his answer,
he intimates that the conversion of the Gentiles after his death was part of
his glory, and the end of hia death was to draw a train of believing disciples
to him, ver. 32. If the faith of men makes the thoughts of Christ's death
pleasant, and the death itself glorious to him, unbehef doth in ita nature
snatch thia honour from Christ, and would hale him down from heaven, to
stake him in a humihation- state for ever, to continue him the scorn and deri-
sion of men, which, as it is injustice in depriving him of his right, ia also
ingratitude to him, who hath done so much to make himself dear to men.

John XVL 9.] unbelief the gbeatest sin. 253
If the hire of a labourer was to he given him the same day, and the aun was
not to go down upon it, because he had ' aet hia heart upon it, and lest he
cry againat thee to the Lord, and it be sin unto thee,' Deut. xriv. 15 ; if
the depriving a labourer of his hire, for a small time, is a ain God marks,
how black is that sin in the eye of God, which hath not once, but often,
defrauded Christ of the hire he laboured for, both in hia life and death, and
will not return the aoul to him for whoee welfare he travailed ? What is this
but to defeat him of the fruit of his sweat, pain, blood and death, to disap
point him of the satisfaction he hath set his heart upon ; or, as it is in the
Hebrew, lifted up his aoul unto, has a vehement desire for ? What made him
bear up in hia dreadful sufferings, but the joy and hopea of having a genera
tion to aerve him ? It was to this purpose he did groan and bleed. But
unbelief would have him an unattended Redeemer, a man of sorrows without
a spark of joy, when it will not come to Chriat that the bouI might have life,
and Christ might have glory.
Eighthly, It puts Christ to the greatest grief. His soul was never more
deeply impressed with grief before the hour of his passion than when he saw
men would not come to him that they might have life. That his table was
spread, and his inrited guests would not accept of his feaata, did both grieve
and incense him. When he gave his disciples ao aharp a check, and calls
them fools, it was not for their timorous and ungrateful forsaking him, but
for their slowness of heart in believing, Luke xxiv. 25. Not their leaving
him in the hands of his enemies, or their preaent charging him with impos
ture, but their not giving credit to what waa predicted of him by the prophets.
It was not the buffets he received, the thorns whereby he smarted, the re
proaches of his enemies, the wounds from the hands of the soldiers, which
did so much damp his soul, as the unbelief of his disciples ; he seemed not
to be afflicted with them so much as with this. This seems as grievous to
him as the wrath of hia Father, not to be truated, and to be charged with
falsity. To be ungratefuUy dealt with ia more bitter to a generous spirit than
death. This grieved him before ever he came into the world, when he con
ducted the increduloua generation of the Israehtes through the wilderness ;*
it may now grieve him more, since it is against more incomparable marks of
hia kindneaa. Is there any grace that Christ doth more earnestly inquire
after than that of faith ? If he finds it, he regards nothing else, John ix. 85.
When he had found him that was excommunicated by the pharisees, he saith,
< Dost thou beheve on the Son of God ?' He inquires not after this poor
man's zeal in defending him so strenuously before the council, vers. 30-38.
' Dost thou beheve ?' is the only question he asks him in order to his admis
sion into hia famUy. What other grace doth he admire in the centurion ?
Mat. viii. 10. Humility, marching in the first rank, 'I am not worthy,' &c.
seems more obvious to view. But Christ looks at the faith which gave birth
to his humility. If faith he the grace on which he fixeth his eye with affec
tion and delight, unbelief must be the object of his greatest grief aa well as
anger ; it is a grieving him after God hath wiped tears from his eyes.
3. As unbelief is an injury to God, aa it is a particular injury to Chriat, so
it ia alao a wrong to the Spirit of God. It alights the witness he bears by
hia common iUuminationa to the dignity of Chriat and the truths of the
gospel, and therefore when men refuse to yield obedience to the terms of
the gospel, they are said to ' resist the Holy Ghost,' Acts iii. 51. It is a
sin more against the Spirit of God than any ; it is not the sin against the
Holy Ghost, but the sin against the Holy Ghost may be without many
* Heb. iii. 10, 17, I am grieved with this generation. And forty years was he
grieved for their unbelief, ver. 19.

254 chabnock's woeks. [John XVI. 9.
other sins, as it was in the pharisees, who were free from many immoral
vices, but it cannot be without this as the main ingredient. It is a ain more
against the Spirit of God than any, because it is the peculiar office of the
Spirit to receive of Christ'a, and ahew it to men, to declare of the things of
Christ, to bring the truths of Christ to a remembrance, to convince men of
the necessity of Christ and his righteousnesa. Unbelief crosseth all those
purposes of the Holy Ghost, the end of his coming into the world, writes
vanity and folly upon his mission, by not subscribing to his motiona. Aa it
reflects upon the Father for sending Christ, so it reflects both upon the
Father and the Son for aending the Holy Ghost. The more honourable the
mesaenger ia, the more base is the affront both to the measenger and to him
that sent him. This sin, as it is against Chriat, ia also against the Spirit of
God, because Christ was fitted by the Spirit, and furnished with all fulness
in his human nature, for the accomplishment of his work in the world. It
was by the strength of the Spirit that he first entered the lists with our
great enemy, who had first moved the rebellion of man. Mat. iv. 1, and the
same Spirit acted Chriat in the whole course of his prophetical office. It
was through the eternal Spirit that he offered up himself a propitiatory sacri
fice for our sins, Heb. ix. 14 ; but it ia alao more immediately againat the
Spirit exhorting to faith, pressing the doctrine and trutha of Christ upon the
souls of men, repeating again and again the thinga which concern salvation,
offering himself to change the soul that is without form and void into a
comely and beautiful workmanship. How great is thia sin, then, that gives
the lie to the Spirit of truth, who is infallible himself and cannot deceive,
nor could no more be employed about a trivial and unworthy affair than
Christ about an unnecessary redemption ! And since this sin is that which
the Spirit directs his battery against, it is more peculiarly a maintaining the
fort against the power of heaven and the summons of that Spirit, whose
least motions we ought to obey to a full surrender. To cast away his soli
citations, to put bara in his way to hinder him an entry, is to quench the
Spirit,' 1 Thes. v. 19, as if the resisting his office were a blowing out his
life, and as much a stifling of him in the soul as when the Jewish fury cruci
fied Christ upon the cross. This is as great a sin, aa appeara by the punish
ment of the Jews, who were not cast off so much for the crucifying the Lord
of life as for resisting the Spfrit, who would have applied for their cure that
blood they had shed in their madness. Thus Stephen charged them when
they stoned him, ' Ye always resist the Holy Ghost.' The Spirit is the
ambassador of the Father and the Son too ; he is sent by the Father, John
xiv. 26, ' whom the Father will send in my name ;' and sent by Christ,
chap. XV. 26, ' whom I wUl send unto you from the Father.' To stand
against an ambassador that represents two states or princes is more than to
resist him that represents only one. Christ waa aent by the Father, and it
ia nowhere in Scripture said that the Spirit sent Christ, though it was given
to him, not by measure, for the fitting him for his mediatory work, and so it
is against the Spirit, as furnishing Christ with gifts and graces for hia employ
ment. But there is a further aggravation in its redounding upon the Holy
Ghost, as authoritatively sent both by the Father and the Son, to buUd upon
that foundation which Christ laid.
II. The second thing in the demonstration of the sinfulness of this sin
was, that it ia as bad, or worse, than the sin of the Jewa in crucifying
Christ. It is aa bad aa the Jews' crucifying Chriat. It is as if we had been part
ners with that cursed generation at Jerusalem, that stained thefr hands in

John XVI. 9.] unbelief the gbeatest sin. 255
the blood of the Son of God. There is a spiritual crucifixion of Chriat a a
well as a corporal one : Rev. xi. 8, ' And thefr dead bodies shall lie in the
street of the great city, which spiritually is called Sodom and Egypt, where
also our Lord waa crucified.' It is a speech concerning the death of the
witnessea, and a deacription of Rome, the aeat of antichrist. As it is spirit
ually called Sodom, and spfritually called Egypt, ao the crucifixion may be
understood apiritually, though there he something also literal in it ; for
Christ may be said to be crucified at Rome, not in regard of the place, where
Christ never was, but in regard of the Roman authority, whereby he Buffered,
all power of capital punishment being taken away from the Jews after their
subjection to the Roman empire. The crime pretended against him was
against Caesar, the Roman magistrate ; he was crucified by Pilate, a Roman
preaident, and crucifixion was a Roman punishment. It is called Sodom
because of luxury and lust, in regard of the idolatry of it, which is spiritual
uncleanness (as Jerusalem ia called Sodom in regard of her filthiness, Isa.
i. 10, laa. ui. 9, Ezek. xvi. 49, 50), and called Egypt in regard of idolatry,
and in regard of the similitude between the oppressions of Israel in Egypt,
and Christians under the Roman jurisdiction. Now, as the name of one
place is metaphorically translated to another, because of the likeness of their
sin, so, by the aame rule, the simUitude in sin transfers the name of one ain
to another. Christ is crucified by the Romish power, when he is deprived
of the honour of his mediatory office, by justling in the intercessions of the
virgin and other saints ; of the glory of his aatisfaction, in mingling with it
the merita of other creaturea ; in hia kingly office, by assuming the power of
dispensations for ain, and pardoning the punishment due by his laws to it.
And Christ ia as much crucified by an unbeliever, when he rejects or doth
not accept him aa a sufficient sacrifice, a propitiating priest, a commanding
king, and a teaching prophet. A man ia aa deeply guilty of crucifying Chriat
in a spiritual manner, as the Jews were in the reproaches and scoffs of him,
and the nailing him to the tree. As there is a apiritual entertainment of
Christ, and supping with him by behering, and a spiritual bringing forth
Christ in the womb of a soul, as a mother doth an infant, so there ia a
spiritual lifting up Christ upon the cross, and piercing his aide.
Another place which provea this, is 1 Cor. xi. 27, ' Whosoever shall eat
this bread and drink thia cup of the Lord unworthily, shall be guilty of the
body and blood of the Lord.' If a man hath the guilt of any known ain
upon him unrepented of, if he comes not with a suitable frame, when he
hath no high thoughts of the excellency of Chriat'a body in the sacrament,
he is partaker of the Jewish crime instead of a Saviour's merit, and acts as
one that nailed him to the cross, and pierced his side, — as an affront to the
picture or statue of a prince ia interpreted an affront to hia person. Now if
the unworthy receiving the signs of the body and blood of Christ, when a
man hath no formal intent to be guilty of so great a crime in his approach,
but he hath some pretencea of holy ends, and addreasea himself to it with
some kind of seeming aeriousness, make him guilty of the death of Christ,-
how much more must he be guilty of it, who hath no value for it, doth not
accept of it as the death of the Son of God, and mediator of the world ?*
He intimates that Christ did not suffer as a propitiation for sin, but as a
malefactor, and so is like to them that crucified him. So that there are
other ways of being counted before God the murderers of Christ, than if our
handa had been as deeply imbrued in the blood which ran in the veins of
his body, as the hands of the Jews were. It is true, all had a hand in the
killing Christ, for our sins armed the hands of the executioners ; they put
* Vatabl. in loc.

256 chabnock's wobks. [John XVI. 9.
the hammer into the right hand of the instruments, and the nails into their
left hand, and, as it were, compelled their curaed hands to pierce his body.*
Our sins demanded the death of the Son of God. But only unbelievers are
guilty of his death, because they make that blood to be shed again in vain,
which they shed when he was crucified for them.
1. Unbelief is as bad as the Jews' act in crucifying him.
2. It is worae.
1. It ia aa bad, in being a virtual approbation of what they did. Every
voluntary ain ia a justification of all acts of the same nature done in the
world. The ain of the Jews was a justifying the sins of Samaria and Sodom :
Ezek. xvi. 51, ' Thou hast justified thy sisters in all thy abominations ;'
those siatera, ver. 46, were Samaria and Sodom.
(1.) It comes from the same root. There is the same diaposition of soul
in one as in the other. They were no more of Adam's descent than we are,
and no more corrupted in their nature than any other nation. We have no
more good naturally than was to be found among them, and they had no
more evU naturally than what is to be found among us. Unbelief was the
principle from whence all thefr rigour against him did ariae ; and had they
not first been unbelievera, they had not been the Redeemer'a murderers.
If there be the aame disposition, and an interpretative approbation of an
act, there ia the aame guilt in the exact eye of God's justice ; for God doth
not judge by outward fact, but by the inward frames of the heart, and dispo
sitions of the soul. The blood of all the propheta, from the blood of Abel
to the blood of Zacharias, was to be required of that generation of the Jews
in whose times Christ lived, though not a man of them had ever known Abel
or Zacharias but by the history of the Scripture, Mat. xxui. 35, Luke ri. 51 ;
yet Christ teUs them they had shed the blood of Abel, and all the rest to
Zacharias. Neither did they formally approve of thoae actiona ; no doubt
but they would in words have testified an abhorrency of Cain, as weU as
many among us wiU their indignation against the traitor Judas, and would
have disowned the wicked and cruel facta of their ancestors, who had dyed
their hands over and over again in the blood of the prophets and messengers
of God ; yet they were stiU guilty of all that blood, because they had the
same disposition of heart, by their unbelief, to do the same act as Cain did,
who was the head of the unbelieving world ; and they did imitate Cain in his
hatred of his brother, by hating Christ, who was to be the grand sacrifice
typified by the sacrifice Abel offered, and by Abel's blood too ; and, having
such a frame, would have used the same peraon with as much rigour, were
he then ahve, aa Cain did. So no doubt but there is the same disposition
in every unbeliever to use Christ as cruelly, were he now alive upon the
earth in the same state aa he then waa, and should fall foul upon the reign
ing sina of men'a hearts, as the Jews did then use him ; for the reaaon is
the aame. If those Jewa, notwithatanding all their glavering affection to
the propheta that had been slain by their ancestors, would have handled
them as sharply, and persecuted them to the death, had they been alive in
their time, and had as faithfully performed their office and message as they
did then, no doubt but men having the same dispoaition would do aa much
to Christ ; and, haring the same root in them, and bringing forth the same
fruit, where it is in their power, they would do the same to Christ or any
other object, if it were aa obvious to them as that which is the mark of thefr
fury. Aa those Jewa had the spirit of their murdering fathers in them
though themaelves did not beheve it, ao every unbehever hath the spirit of
the crucifying Jews in him, though they themselves think no such thing, and
* Nerimberg. de Adorat, lib. i. cap. vii. p. 48 &o.

John XVI. 9. J unbelief the gbeatest sin. 257
would with as much abhorrency detest such a fact as the Jews did that of
their fathers. There is still the same rancorous root of bitterness latent in
the heart and nature, as waa in theirs.
(2.) It hath the aame object now, the peraon of Christ, though in another
manner. Whatsoever is done against the commands, and doctrine, and
people of Christ, against his inward motions in the sonl, is done against the
person of Christ : Acts ix. 4, ' Why persecutest thou me ?' How could the
persecution of believers by Saul be more against the person of Christ than
unbelief, the root from whence that furious zeal did branch ? As the
Father appeared principally in the creation of the world, forming the design
of it, and upon that occasion settled the law as a rule of man's obedience,
every sin against the law ia an offence against him, a blaaphemy of the
Father. But redemption being the work of the Son, by his suffering and
resurrection, and the Son being the matter and subject of the doctrine of the
gospel, and set forth as an object of faith, and appointed by the Father the
lawgiver of the world, the goapel refera properly to the person of Christ ;
and unbelief is a sin committed against the person of the Son, and an out
raging him. Apostasy and denying Christ to be the Messiah is by the
apostle called a crucifying to themselves the Son of God afresh : Heb. vi. 6,
' They crucify to themselves the Son of God afresh, and put him to an open
shame.' It is such an act as is by interpretation a crucifying the person of
the Son of God ; it is -a rejecting his person and offices, and counting him a
deceiver, as the Jews did. Mat. xxvii. 63, and not the Son of God ; for if
we do count of him as one sent from God, why do we not believe in him ?
why do we run from him ? ''EauroTg, to themselves, or in, or with themselves,
aa much aa in them lies. All his common works, which were upon their
hearts, they kill, which ia as much as a killing hia person ; what they do to
his truth, and the convictions they have, they would do to his person were
he in thefr power. They put him to an open shame, for as he was derided
and reproached as an impostor when he was upon the cross, so men by their
unbelief ahame him before the eyea of men. The action in refusing him and
departing from him asserts that there are no allurements in him, nothing
worthy of love, but worthy of that reproachful usage he had among hia cruci-
fiera. As apoataay is attended vrith this guilt in the account of the apostle,
so is all unbelief, according to the degrees of it, more or less, because it ia a
virtual denial of Christ's being what really he is, the Son of God, and
Sariour of the world ; which was that the Jews denied, and therefore cruci
fied him, and therefore is a sin against the person of Christ as well as theirs.
As faith pitcheth upon the person of Christ as its proper object, so the re
fusal of the person of Christ is that which doth constitute this sin of unbelief
(3.) It hath the same end, the indulgence of some carnal lust and end. Is
not our love naturally as strong to those corruptions which lie nuzzling in
our natures ? Are we not as fond of them, as indulgent to them, as the
scribes and pharisees were to thefra ? They did not pay a greater homage
to their beloved sin, and adore thefr heart-idols with a greater veneration,
than every one of ua endeavour to pleasure ours naturally ; and this is the
main end of every unrenewed unbelieving person. Therefore, if Christ were
among us in the same garb as he was among the Jews, and shewed his dis
like of our vices and corruptions, and laid the axe to the root of them, though
edged with so many miracles as he did among them, what reason have we
to think that he should not meet with the aame rude entertainment among
us as he did among them ? Our nature is no better than thefrs, our luats as
dear to us as theirs, principles of education as strong in us as theirs ; we
VOL. IV. E

258 chabnock's wobks. [John XVI. 9.
have the same spiritual progenitor by nature as they had, even the devil, and
his lusts we do as weU as they : John viii. 44, Eph. ii. 2, 3, ' The spirit
that works in the children of disobedience {atcu^lag, unpersuadableness),
among whom alao we had our conversation in times past, fulfilling the de-
sfres of the fleah, and of the mind,' and are as much guided by his inspira
tions as they ; for the apostle pronounceth it of all, of himself and the
Gentiles, as well as Christ had before of the Jews. Would we not befriend
our father, especially when he would put forth hia utmost power and malice
in us upon such an occasion, as he did at that time in them ? And we
rather should use him more despitefuUy, because if he did come in the flesh,
it would be contrary to expectations, whereas they expected the Messiah, and
gloried in the promise of his coming. Had any told them before, that they
should have used him so barbarously as they did, they would have thought
themselves wronged and defamed. What ! to crucify him whose coming
they longed for, and had expected in thefr successive generations, from the
time of Adam'a being cast out of paradise ! Yet for all this, you know how
they used him, because he came in another garb than they expected. They
looked for him to come as a conqueror, and he came as a person not know
ing where to lay hia head. And what unbeliever ia there among us that can
assure himself he would not do the like, were Christ in person present, and
struck as cross a blow at his darling corruptiona aa he did at those of the
Jews in that time ? What pharisees would not awell against him, if he
should tell them of loading men with grievous burdens, and charge them with
their hypocrisy and formal devotions, and thunderingly tell them they should
die in their sins ? Is there not the same reason ? Have not men the same
love to thefr vices as they had then ? What can alter their affections ?
Nothing but faith. While men, therefore, remaining in unbelief, have the
same dispositions, the same ends, and the same motives to unbelief as they
had, they would do the same acts against Christ, out of the same disposition,
and for the same enda, which managed them in all that tragedy. They
would still fulfil the desires of the flesh and of the mind. Those that sacri
fice the truths, precepts, ordinances of Christ to their Delilahs, would sacri
fice Christ himself whose truths, precepts, and ordinances they are. If
Christ were again upon the earth in the same atate, he would be as faithful to
his Father's instructions as he was then ; and unbelievers would be as faith
ful to their father's, the devil's, instructions, as the Jews were then.
As we see in what sense unbelief now is as bad as the Jews' cmcifying, as
having the same disposition, being set against the same object and guided by
the same ends. and motives, so we shall see that
2. Unbelief now is worse than the unbelief of the Jews, and worse than
that act of crucifying Christ, and more grievous to him. They crucified him
by the authority of Pilate, and pretended a law among them whereby he
ought to die. But what pretence can there be for any man's unbelief among
us ? Our unbehef at the last day will be an excuse of theirs.* The Jewa
resisted a truth offered to them, but we resist the force and power of that
truth which in the notion we own. While we receive it in our assent, we
reject it in our consent ; we profess him to be the Son of God and Saviour
of the world in our doctrine, and proclaim it a mere imposture in our prac
tice. Theirs was a rejecting him ; ours a scorn and mocking of him. Be
sides, we by our baptism are obliged votaries to him ; we have given up our
names to Christ in an outward profession, and promised faith in him and
obedience to him. The Jews did not formally so, though implicitly they
did, as the doctrine of it was contained in the ceremonies of the law of
* Zanch. in Decalog. cap, xii. de i-nirrlx, Thes. viii. p. 246.

John XVI. 9. J unbelief the gbeatest sin. 259
Moses and the writings of the prophets. But our unbelief is manifested
after solemn promises to stick to him.
(1.) Our unbelief is against the spiritual discovery of Christ ; thefrs was
not. Their sin was against his personal discovery, ours against hia apiri
tual, in the miraculous appearance of the Spfrit in the apostles' preaching.
The coming ofthe Spirit depended upon Christ's glorification, John vii. 39;
their sin therefore could not be so great aa oura, it being against a less, aud
oura against a greater, discovery of Christ by the effusion of the Holy Ghost.
It is a contempt of Christ after a full revelation. The Jews had better ex
cuses to plead for the mitigation of their crime, the prophecies concerning
the Messiah were obscure till cleared by the event, and delivered in such
expressions that a natural understanding might conceive them to be meant
of an outward splendour rather than a spiritual glory. The condition of
Christ was so mean and disguised in the world, that they could scarce dis
cern the Lord of glory for the mask of infirm flesh, could not tell
how to imagine him to be the Son of God, who was meaner than an
ordinary man in his outward appearance. There were, indeed, some
sparks of his divinity flashed out in his words and actions, but short of
those iUustrious beams wherewith he afterwards chased away the darkness
of the world, short of that power whereby afterwards he broke open the
gates of hell, and hurled Satan, the prince of it, from his long-possessed
throne. They crucified him, whenas yet the Spirit had not spread the
light abroad, discovered the reason of all the foregoing methods, had not
yet shewed him to be the Lord of glory, nor animated some men to preach
him in the world and bear witness to the truth of his mission against
their worldly interest, and whatsoever was dear unto them there. Not a
nation in the world had then submitted their aceptre to the Son of God ; the
world aa yet lay steeped in idolatry, and wallowed in the sink of hell. But
our unbelief being after the clearest discovery of him, and his appearance in
the power of his royalty, since he hath a long time reigned in the midst of
his enemies, is rendered more vile, unreasonable, and inexcusable. The
Spirit doth not speak of Christ to come in an obscure style, as the propheta
did, but manifests things past, thinga accomphshed, in unveiled and clear
expressions, and with an undeniable light. He discovers not Christ on earth
in a mean flesh and form of a servant, but in the glory of the Son of God,
and as a mediator for man, invested with the government of the world, and
hath sealed the truth of his mission with the conversion of many nations,
and spread it over all parts of the world, contrary to human methods, whereby
false religions and errors have been propagated in the earth. The promise
of the Spirit's mission, made by our Saviour on earth, being performed, is
an evidence of the acceptance Christ flnds with the Father, and of the stabi
lity of all his declarations as a foundation of faith. It is against this appear
ance of his our present unbelief is, which makes it more criminal than that
of the Jews in crucifying him when he was under a veil. We have seen the
conquest he hath made by his Spirit for so many ages since his being upon
the earth ; how prodigious, then, ia our heart-refusal of him after so many
records of his power, and troops of miracles wrought by the strength of his
name !
(2.) They crucified him when he was in a state of humiliation ; our un
belief is against him, since he is exalted at the right hand of his Father.
There is a great deal of difference between the contempt of one upon
a dunghill and upon a throne. They sinned not against a Christ crucified
for them ; he had not then died for them when they apprehended him and
sought his death. Theirs was against God's act in sending Christ ; ours

260 chabnock's woeks. [John XVI. 9.
against God's act in sending him, and glorifying him also. Theira was
against Christ in his low estate ; ours against Chriat in his exalted nature.
Theirs against Christ as a man on earth ; ours against him aa the Son of
God in heaven, and in his approaches to the fulness of his kingly authority
in judging the world. They crucified his humanity, and we, in a manner,
his dirinity. They believed not in him when he was clouded in the form of
a servant ; we believe not in him when he hath reassumed the glory of the
Deity. He was aa a contemptible shrub among them, making no appear
ance of rising into a full-grown tree ; there was not that manifest grandeur
wherein he seemed to be promiaed : he appeared not in such a garb as to
seem desirable to them : Isa. liii. 2, ' He was aa a root out of a dry ground.'
But we have heard of him in his glory mounting above the violences of men,
dropping off the infirmities of the flesh, shaking off the fetters of death by a
victorious resurrection, and triumphant ascending above the heavens to hve
for ever, and all this that he might be beheved on, confided in as the Re
deemer of the world. Judge, then, which unbelief is more sinful. They
crucified him whom they supposed to be a man and a malefactor; we crucify
him -who was glorified after he was crucified for us. We crucify him since
hia divinity hath been manifested above hia humanity ; they when his
humanity had veiled his divinity. Which of the Jews, that should have aeen
Christ at the right hand of God, as Stephen did, would have dared to utter
those words, ' Crucify him, crucify him ! ' * Every unbeliever, that dares
not speak it, dares do it. They will be confounded, when they see him glo
rious whom they have pierced. Many of them bewailed their crime when
they believed his resurrection ; we reproach him while we pretend to beheve
him glorious, and crucify him again by rejecting hia promises and precepts,
whom we confess to be risen from the grave. Had the Jews had the Mes
siah only promised them by the propheta, f and had not believed it, it had
not been ao great a sin as not to believe him after he came, and prefer Caesar,
an earthly king, before him, and the life of Barabbas, a murderer, before his.
It was an higher sin to refuse him, not only since he waa promised, but was
come, and had preached and wrought miracles among them, and had lived
hohly ; yet it was a greater sin than of crucifying him, not to believe on him
after he was dead, raised again, aacended into heaven, had sent the Holy
Ghost and converted a world. Peter denied Chriat, Judas betrayed him,
Pilate condemned him, the Jews crucified him, but not one of them had then
seen him dead, raised, and ascended into heaven, and aending the Holy
Ghost, as we have full evidences of. As if the Jews did not believe Moses, when
he pretended in Egypt to deliver them, by taking the Israelite's part, and
killing the Egyptian, it was no such great thing. But after he had been, as
it were, dead by his absence, and returned again, by a courae of miraclea,
knocked off their chains, brought them through the Red Sea, for them then
to carry themselves so to him, aa ifhe had not delivered them, was a great
injury to God and him. So it is a greater injury, since Christ, by his death,
hath freed us from evil, brought the kingdom of heaven, his gospel, among
lis, and that for many years, that we should not heartily comply with his
terms, but behave ourselves towarda him as if he were a mere man, an un
worthy man, had done nothing for us, had not been taken notice of by God,
but in a way of punishment. So to carry ourselves after hia high exaltation,
is unparalleled, even among devUs, and by the sin of the Jews in crucifying
him. And our notional owning him, or assenting to the articles of the creed
concerning his death, resurrection, ascension, and sitting at the right hand
* Nerimberg de Adorat. lib. i, cap. v. p, 48, &c,
t Ochino Prsedic. part v. Praedio. xxviii, pp. 209, 210.

John XVI. 9.] unbelief the gbeatest sin. 261
of God, and his coming to judge the quick and the dead, ia so far from alle
viating the crime, that it renders it more baae and unworthy, not to cast
ouraelvea upon him for salvation, resign np ourselves to be saved in his way,
and guided by his precepts, after onr acknowledgments of his death and exal
tation. I say, it renders it more unworthy than the Jews' murder, or the
present unbelief of their posterity, because it is a contradiction to our own
professed sentiments.
(3.) Our unbehef is more palpably against the offices of Christ than theirs
waa : it was not of that black hue then. Christ had not a full investiture in
his offices, he had not all royal power settled upon him, till after his sacri
ficing himself For the full exercise of those offices belonged to his state of
exaltation, and he was not perfected tiU he was offered up, Heb. v. 9 ; it is
now against his priestly office settled upon him for ever, and against a special
part of it, his interceasion. They sinned against Christ ready to offer up
himaelf a sacrifice ; we against Christ who hath offered himself a sacrifice of
a sweet-amelling savour to God ; we ain againat him as an advocate aettled
at the right hand of God. It is trae, Christ did intercede before his coming
in the flesh, and evidences of it there are in Scripture, but that was not evi
dent to the Jews. It was then upon the account of what he was by compact
to suffer, it is now upon the account of what, according to that compact, he
hath suffered ; it is a sin, therefore, more peculiarly against his priestly office,
in his pleading for aU the fraits of his oblation, and appearing in the presence
of God for us, as well as appearing for God to ua ; theirs was against the
latter, and oura against both ; theirs was against Chriat, when as yet the
contract was to be performed ; ours againat him, when, according to the
contract, the price and ransom is paid ; theirs was when the debt due to God
remained unsatisfied ; ours when God hath given Christ an acquittance for
the payment of it, and made him king, priest, prophet, prince, and saviour,
and for ever invested him in each particular office. It was not by any force,
but with the greatest vrillingness, that he offered up himaelf ' to destroy the
works of the devil,' 1 John iii. 8, and to be, in all respects, an officer of
mercy at the right hand of his Father. If we shall endeavour to preaerve
him, whom Chriat came to cast out by his death ; if we preserve any of those
works by unbelief, Chriat came to deatroy ; if we continue the aceptre of
Satan in his hands by our want of faith ; nay, if we preserve that unbelief,
which waa the firat work that the devil framed in our first parents by his
subtlety, we do that whioh hinders the glory of his offlces, and that which is
more contrary to hia honour than the death the Jewa inflicted on him.* His
death did not discontent him, he was highly willing to bow down his head
under it, it waa the way to the glory of all his officea ; he was to pass through
the crosa to the throne, and be first a sacrifice before he could be an advo
cate, and yield up the Ghost before he could send the Spirit. Unbelief, then,
which would deprive him of the glory of all thia, is more injurious than those
Jews were which nailed him to the cross, and more grievous than the igno
minious death he suffered.
(4.) Our unbelief is againat Chriat after he hath finished his work, their
act was against him when he was moving towards the performance of it. He
had not then manifeated the grandeur of his affection ; he had, indeed, taken
human nature, and humbled himaelf to the infirm condition of our flesh ;
but hia death, which waa the commendation of his love, and the discovery
of his affection in redemption, was not then suffered ; their sfri could not be
against this, becauae it was not yet manifested ; they made way by thefr sin
for a discovery of that love we ain against. They sinned against Christ as
* Jackson, vol. iii. fol. p. 343, changed.

262 ohaenock's woeks. [John XVI. 9.
he was preparing himself to be a sacrifice for them, and sanctifying himself
to be an atoning offering ; we sin against him as already consecrated by his
own blood, and consecrating for us ' by his own fiesh a living way,' Heb.
X. 20. In the crucifying of him they sinned against Christ as the Son of
God, but not against Christ as a sacrifice ; they rather contributed, though
not intentionally, to this oblation of himaelf But we sin against the only
sacrifice for sin, which hath been offered for us, ao that there is a greater
ingratitude and contempt in our sin than theira ; neither the priests nor
people, PUate nor Judas, had seen Christ dead for them, before their own
act in crucifying him. Judas betrayed him, the people voted him, and PUate
condemned him to death ; but an unbeliever betrays, votes, condemns the
death of Christ to death ; he betrays the ends of it, condemns that to a nul
lity which God accepted as a price, and votes against those offices which
were founded upon his death, and which he could not have exercised if he
had not died, and thereby rirtuaUy pulls him from hia throne, unto which
he was to paas by the cross : for ' ought not Christ first to suffer, and so to
enter into his glory ? ' Luke xxiv. 26.
(5.) Our unbelief is against a more signal manifestation of God's attributes
in their higheat perfection. God hath not opened the treasures of his wisdom
to man till the sufferings of Christ were over, nor was his love manifested in
the highest manner tUl our Saviour bled, nor his justice discovered till the
stroke was given, nor did hia power triumph but in the resurrection of our
Saviour. The glory of those attributes lay hid and wrapped up in him, tUl
Christ came down from the cross, and rose from the grave. We sin against
that goodness which pitied us more than it seemed to pity hia own Son. We
ain against that justice that sheathed a aword in his bowels to spare our
soula. We sin against that blood that sealed our pardon, against that truth
which had brought the promises upon record for so many ages to an happy
accomplishment, and made them yea and amen, fully irreversible, by our
Sariour's blood ; against a wisdom that astonished angels more than that in
the whole creation, and against an almighty strength that never bared its
arm so much as in raising our surety loaden with our guUt. Since nothing of
those appeared so eminent but in and after the crucifixion of Christ, their sin
could not so sully the honour of thoae which did not then appear. They
were ignorant instruments in the hands of God to promote rather than
violate the honour of those attributes. But doth not our unbelief endeavour
to take off the wheels of their triumphant chariot, and lay the honour of them
in the dust ? The Jews, indeed, alter the death of Christ, sinned against
all these in their brightness as well as any of us ; but not in the very act of
crucifixion, because by the death of the Son of God these excellencies were
brought in all their glories to our view, which had else lain inrisible in the
secret place of the Most High, and never should have shewn their faces to
the sons of men. Without it, neither men nor angela could have had any
proapect of them. And though we imitate not the Jews in the act of cruci
fixion, it is not for want of natural disposition, but for want of opportunity.
Christ ia not here in person to be crucified by us, but we tread in the steps
of the Jewish unbelief, which was more gross after the passion of Christ
than before ; and we crucify the glory of those attributes of God, which re
ceived their hfe from the blood of the Redeemer.
(6.) Our unbelief is aggravated from the accomplishment ofthe promises
and threatenings for unbelief, which thefr ain waa not againat. We have
greater assurances aince Christ'a ascenaion of the performance of promisea
than they had before. The gospel hath, according to the prediction of Christ,
from a grain of mustard-seed, risen up to a mighty tree. It hath been by

John XVI. 9.] unbelief the gbeatest sin. 263
varioua providences carried into remote corners, spread further than the
Roman eagles. It hath been made known in the then unknown parts of
America. It hath visited all nations, Mat. xxiv. 14, and a great harvest hath
sprung up in all ages since, from the seed of our Saviour's body cast into the
ground, according to hia prophecy, John xu. 24. We have known the Jews
ainking under the trath of his threatening, and the destruction of Jerusalem,
the fatal place of his suffering. We see them to thia day stripped of the
badges of God'a ancient favoura, without a king or prince, without a sacrifice,
vrithout image, ephod, or teraphim.* We see the scars of God'a just anger
upon them for above 1600 years, not yet seeking the Lord thefr God, and
David their king, Hoaea iii. 4, 5. And beaidea, we have known churchea
degenerate in their faith, and (as the fruit of it) laid in the dust ; the taber
nacle of God removed from them ; their lands desolated, and their poaterity
laid in thick darkness. How have we known him in the glory of his mercy
and truth, and the rigours of his justice ! Have we not seen him with his
iron rod crushing hia beloved people, and alluring with his golden sceptre
nations alienated from the life of God, and strangers to the covenant of
promise ? There hath not failed one word of all his good promiae which he
promised by the hand of Mosea, the propheta, and his own Son, 1 Kings viii.
56 ; no, nor one word of all those sad threatenings which were thundered
out against that unbelieving nation, who lie yet under that wretched distemper
of slighting the Son of David, the promised aeed, and under the fearful curse
of God's oath, that they ' shall not enter into his rest,' Heb. in. 18, 19. And
is our unbelief that spurns at all those evidences of hia truth or faithfulness,
and his wrath against incredulity, less criminal than thefrs was ? They sinned
against the word of his promise and threatening, and we against the work
and performance of both. They believed not, when no nation had been cast
off, nor could be cast off, for that sin. But we believe not, when we know
that for this sin God hath taken away the birthright from the Jew. Our sin
is therefore against the mercies which believers upon record have had for
their faith, and against the judgments God hath poured out on the Jews and
others for their unbelief. How grievous is it to commit that sin, for whioh
persons bear the tokens of God's wrath before our eyea ! And never palliate
the business by pleading that none of us are as the Jews, because we profess
Christ to be the Messiah, and own him to be the Son of God, and the Re
deemer of the world ; our unbelief is worse than theirs, because we orally own
him, and cordially deny him. It is the a3,me with theirs in the inward dia
position, though not in the outward profession.
(7.) Our unbelief is againat greater knowledge than theira was.
[1.] The act itself. They put him to death through ignorance, whom, if
they had known in the excellency of his person, they would not have crucified,
1. Cor. ii. 8. Peter bears the same witness. Acta iii. 17, ' I wot that through
ignorance ye did it, as did also your rulers ;t and Christ himself in his dying
prayer bore witness to thia : Luke xxiii. 34, ' They know not what they do.'
They crucified him when hia divinity waa under a veil, and therefore there
are milder expressions of their crucifying Christ than there can be of ours.
Would the apostles apeak truth were they living, and should utter the same
expressions of our infidelity, ' Had they known him, they would not have
slighted him ' ? or can Christ put up the aame prayer now for those that con
temn him under all the glorious marks of hia deity ? can he say, ' Father,
they know me not, have not had any revelations of me to be the Son of God ' ?
Without question, no. It must be thus, Father, they have seen the trophies
* Jackson, vol i. fol, p. 132, ,
f The rabbins call their wise men a?)^ *D1 magnates seeuli.

264 chabnock's wobks. [John XVI. 9.
of my death in the world, they have known the transcendent effects of
my glorification, they have read, and read again, in the records of Scrip
ture (which they confess they do not question) the conquests I have made,
the multitude of disciples I have gained, and the treading devils under my
feet ; yet remain worae devUs than those I have subdued. We do believe
his ascension and session at the right hand of God, and answer not the
ends of them. We refuse Christ against knowledge, which they did through
ignorance. It was a mitigation of Paul's ain that he persecuted ' ignorantiy
in unbelief,' 1 Tim. i. 13 ; he did not believe Christ to be that person that
really he was. Theirs, as well as his, was an ignorant unbehef ours a
knovring one ; theirs was a crucifying Christ ignorantiy in unbelief, ours a
rejecting Christ knowingly in faith ; i. e. we consent not to that unto which
we profess our assent. They thought him to be mere man and a criminal,
and did not assent to the dignity of his person ; we acknowledge him to be
God and Redeemer, and we consent not to the reasonableness of his terms.
The guilt is greater when it is against clear manifestations, gracious offers,
sweet wooinga, multiplied eaaaya of love and power, than when againat some
few tastes ; and to heighten it, a guilt under a self-condemnation.
[2.] The examples of converts more. The examples of converts in the
time of Christ were produced as living vritnesaea against the Jews in that
time : Mat. xxi. 32, ' Publicans and harlota believed John, and you, when
you had seen it, beheved not ; ' and no doubt they will be brought aa testi
monies at the last day. Was it so high an aggravation then, and is it less
now, against those who have had not only those testimonies upon record,
but many other testimonies of faith in the ages since and their own age ;
yea, the turning the acalea of the whole world, and the glorious conquests of
Christ by ways different from the methods of men ? The unbelief after the
sight of Christ's converting power upon any heart ia a charge as great, if
not greater, than the refusing to beheve upon a single declaration of the
doctrine, becauae every conversion in our sight ia an evidence of the power
of Christ, and the end of his coming and suffering. Such works are his
standing miracles now, which bear witness of him. The evidences whereby
Chriat chargeth the Jewa' unbelief vrith a greater guilt come short of those
which we have had : John x. 25, ' The works that I do in my Father's name,
they bear witness of me.' It is in this respect against greater miracles than
Christ performed among them ; for greater works were done by the apostles
than by Christ, John xiv. 12, which muat be meant of the conversion of
men, and the great success they had in that work, more than Christ while
he waa upon the earth in hia person. The Jews had great means, the power
ofhis miracles, the sweetness ofhis conversation, to assist against their in
fidelity, yet they vilified his person, misinterpreted his doctrine, ascribed the
sparka of hia dirinity to the powera of hell and the strength of Beelzebub,
and at length exposed him to the cross. Is not our unbelief a virtual appro
bation of all that they did against those hints and meana which might have
persuaded them to another kind of carriage ? But ours hath something to
make it more baee and unreaaonable, it being against the power of his doc
trine in converting a world, and supporting myriads of martyrs in bearing
their testimony to his truth under the flames and aevereat puniahments.
The conversions in the days of his flesh were aome few aprinklinga within
the compass of Judea and Samaria ; the eridences we have had have been
whole shoala upon the surface of the earth. The miracles he wrought were
unanswerable testimonies of his miaaion, but altogether not so great as that
of his resurrection, which was a miracle after they had put bim to death. It
ia this we sin against, which they did not in the crucifixion of him.

John XVI. 9.] unbelief the gbeatest sin. 265
[3.] Theirs was against a shorter time of instruction than ours. It was
but between three and four years ; about three years and a half Christ taught
among them. It is ten, twenty, or more years Christ hath been puUing at
our hearts, and proposing the terms of the gospel. We sin againat the in
struction they had, for we have them transmitted to. us by faithful witnesses ;
against the teachings of the apostles, which were commenta upon the gospel;
against multitudes of sermons sounding in our eara. What is the crucifying
Christ after three years' hearing of his words and seeing his miracles, to
twenty or thirty years' vilifying his person, and disparaging his office, and
treading under foot the Son of God ?
[4.] Suppose they had known what they did, yet their crucifying of him
was but one act. But since every act of unbelief, and every single refusal
of hia gracioua terms, is a crucifying the Son of God afresh, is the guilt of
multiplied acts put together less than one single one, especially when every
act hath a knowledge to aggravate it ?
(8.) They in crucifying Christ did what God had determined, what Christ
was willing to, but it is not so in our unbehef. I do not intend this to lessen
their sin (for they had no respect to the decree of God in the execution of
Christ) but it aggravates ours. God ia said to deliver up Chriat (Acts ii. 28,
' Him being delivered by the determinate counsel of God, ye have taken, and.
by wicked hands have crucified and slain ') not only as an act of his pre
science, but his counsel, and that determinate, i. e. stable and irreversible.
He makes a distinction between these two acts ; in God it was an act of
counsel, in them an act of wickedness, ' by vricked hands.' There was a
previous act of counsel, and after that an actual tradition : Rom. viii. 32,
' He that spared not his own Son, but delivered him up for us all.' God
decreed the sufferings of Christ, but he never positively decreed any man's
unbelief, though he decreed to permit it.
[l.'j It was necessary. It is not imaginable that the death of Christ could
be brought about but in some such way as it was, by the wickedneaa of man,
to answer all the gracioua purposes of God. There waa a necessity of it to
the satisfaction of his justice, in regard of the sanction of the law, and the
inability of any or all mere creaturea to reatore the damaged honour of the
law. He could not in his own person deserve death ; for could it be sup
posed that our Saviour should be guilty of any capital crime, whereby,
according to the righteousness of the Jewish laws, he had forfeited his life,
the whole frame of redemption had cracked asunder, the person wanting that
innocence in himself which was necessary to make satisfaction for others ?
Had God put him to death by some remarkable stroke from heaven, without
the intervention of man, the voluntariness of Christ, which waa necessary to
the perfection of his oblation, had not been evident, his innocence would not
have been assured to ua. The remarkable stroke would have presented him
to man under the notion of a notorioua sinner, that heaven could patiently
bear no longer. The goapel could not have been propagated. Who would
have entertained that person aa a Saviour, whoae innocence could not be
cleared ? None who, according to the common aentiments of men, appeared
aa a malefactor, would have been embraced aa a Redeemer. If it be said,
God might have raised him again after such a stroke, and his resurrection
would have made him entertainable as one beloved of God, but what evi
dences could there have been that it was a resurrection, or that he had been
really dead ? But in this way of God's procedure, the innocence of Christ,
his freeness to suffer, the reality of his death and resurrection, are undeni
ably assured to us. There was therefore a necessity of the death of Christ,
and in some such way as that whereby it was executed, both in regard of

266 chabnock's woeks. [John XVI. 9.
the counsel of God, and the fulfiUing of the predictions which had foretold
the circumstances. But our unbelief ia in no manner necessary, either
necessitate pacti, by necessity of contract, as that was, or necessitate medii, of
meana, as that was to the salvation of men. For this ain is point blank
against any covenant of God, and renders damnation certain, and salvation
impossible. The death of Christ was necessary for the satisfaction of God's
justice, though it was not formally necessary that those very persons should
crucify him. The sufferings of Christ were neceasary to his glory ; his heel
was to be bruised by the devU, as weU as the devU's head by him. But un
belief is not a due to him as a means for the glory of his person ; he waa to
suffer, for ' ought not Christ to have suffered these things, and to enter into
his glory ? ' But ought cannot be set on unbelief. It cannot be said, Ought
not Christ to have been rejected, contemned, and so to have entered into
his glory ? His death was necessary in order thereunto, but not our un
belief [2.] Besides, there was an ' obedience unto death ' enjoined to Christ,*
and his will complied with it, both his divine and human will ; hia will as
he was the Son of God, and his will as he was the Son of David. But his
will neither as he is the Son of God, nor as he is the Son of man, is for un
belief. Since he was to be obedient to death, the suffering the death then
inflicted on him was a part of his obedience ; but the suffering a new cruci
fixion ahd disparagement by infidelity, since he went to glory, is no part of
the obedience owing by Christ to his Father. We do that in not behev
ing which doth more displease him, and is more against the interest of his
glory, than they did in putting him to death, to which his will, with the
greatest freeness, and the impulse of a divine law in his heart, persuaded
him, and which indeed was the chief end of hia coming.
[8.] If we may judge of sin by the consequences of it, our ain is far greater
than theirs. The salvation of man, the glory of God's love, justice, wis
dom ; the glory of Christ's patience, tendernesa, the miaaion of the Holy
Ghost, the accomplishment of promises, prophecies, were the consequents of
this ; not simply fruits of the Jewa' action, but of Christ's passion ; not the
consequents intentionally of their wickedness, but of God's grace. God ex
tracted this glory to himaelf, and an immense good to man, from the mahce
of the devil and the Jews. Can any man's unbelief, since Christ hath suf
fered, be ever an occasion of so great a good ? It cannot be imagined how
the infinite power of God can make any man'a unbelief inatrnmental to such
glorious ends, unleaa he should send a Sariour to suffer the same tragedy
over again in his own person. Nothing but the glory of God's justice, the
manifestation of his truth in hia wrathful threatenings, the satisfaction of the
devil's malice, and the eternal misery of the immortal soul, can be the con-
aequenta of present infidelity. Their sin was a means ordered by God to
do that, which procured the most inestimable blessings for us ; but our sin
is against all the blessings purchased by that death, and all the tokens of
Christ's love bestowed upon tbe world at his ascension.
III. Tho third thing in the sinfulness of this sin was, besides tbe sinful
ness aa it reapects God, and as it is as bad, and in some sense worse, than
the sin of the Jews ; so there are many other reasons which manifest the
sinfulness of this sin of infidelity.
1. This sin of unbelief is much of the same nature with the first sin
of the devila. It is probable by the Scripture that pride was the sin :
1 Tim. iii. 6, ' Not a novice, lest being lifted up with pride, he fall into the
* Jackson, vol. iii, fol. p. 343, changed.

John XVI. 9.] unbelief the gbeatest sin. 267
condemnation of the devU.' If we take it passively, lest he faU as the devil
fell byhis pride against God, there is indeed pride in every sin, but the
formality of the devil's sin aeema by this place to consist in pride, who being
puffed up with his dignity in the creation, was hurled into a lake of fire.
What was the occasion of his pride, or the particular formality of his pride,
is not easily determinable.
There are four ways* of his sinning conjectured by men.
(1.) That seeing himaelf the highest of created beings, and most approach
ing in likeness to God, he affected an equality with God, Ezek. xxviii. 12,
13, &c. to 17, which, though literally it be spoken of Tyre, yet some under
stand it allusively of the chief angel ; because he speaks of his being in
Eden, the garden of God, an anointed cherub that covers, and was upon the
holy mount of God, perfect in hia ways, tiU iniquity was JFound in him. He
set hia heart as the heart of God, his heart waa lifted up because of hia
beauty, and he corrupted his wisdom by reason of hia brightness, wherein,
aay they, the sin of Tyre, as well as hia exceUency, is compared to the excel
lency of the devil in his creation, and his sin at his fall.
(2.) That the devil endeavoured to obtain a blessedness by his own
strength, without dependence on grace. As if he had been sufficient to make
himself happy by the strength of those natural perfections God had first en
dowed him with at his creation. He apprehended nothing else needful for
him but the portion at first bestowed upon him, and trusted to obtain that
by himself which he could only have by the grace of his Creator. He would
be like God in being the fountain and prinpiple of his own happiness, and
equal himself to God in deserting any dependence upon God's sufficiency to
rely upon his own.
(3.) Others say, that the devil affected a pre-eminence over every crea
ture ; and seeing the legiona of angels created with him, and himself in the
highest rank, he would be singular, subject to none, and ruler over all ;
choosing rather, saith Austin, to delight in the subjection of others to him,
than in his subjection to God ; affecting that royal dignity which was only
due to the Son of God, and would not be a ministering spirit to the heirs of
salvation, creatures of an inferior rank and baser alloy than himself over
whom he expected an absolute authority, when all the angels, without exemp
tion of any, were designed to this office : Heb. i. 14, ' Are they not all
ministering spirits ?' as the elder children are ordered to take care of the
younger in a family. He envied Christ the dignity of being set in the hu
man nature ' above principalities and powers,' Eph. i. 19, 20. This hath
a hkehhood in it, since he sets himself chiefly againat mankind, as having a
particular enmity against them, whose dignity in the hypostatical union was
enried by him, which waa his sin, and the cause of his fall. Men alwaya
have the greatest animosity against them, upon whose account and occasion
they suffer.
(4.) Others say, that the sin of the devil was a refusal to be subject to
Christ, when the revelation was made to him and the other angels of hia
future incarnation : Heb. i. 6, ' And again, when he bringa in the first begotten
into the world, he aaith, And let all the angels of God worship him,' 'jrdXiv
tiaaydyji. This particle again they join with brings in, and the Greek
favours this, ' when he again brings in his first begotten into the world ;'
signifying that he had brought hia Son into the world before as an object
of worship, by a particular revelation made to the angels, and required the
worship of him in a peculiar manner, not only as one with himself in the
Deity, which they could not be supposed to refuse, but under another rela-
* De Lingendes, tom, ii. Concio lix. page 585.

268 chabnock's wobks. [John XVI. 9.
tion, as the head of their confirmation, and the fountain from whence they
were to derive their blessedness. God intended to ' gather in one all things
in Christ, both which are in heaven and which are on earth, even unto him,
Ejih. i. 10 ; this being proposed to them was refused by Satan and hia adhe-
-^'ents, glorying in thefr own natural perfection, and conceiving they had
strength enough of themselves, and needed no additional grace, and were
loath to be subject to a nature mferior fri natural perfections to then? own,
and worship an inferior nature to thefrs in union with the Son of God.
' Let aU the angels of God worship him,' is as much as to say. Let aU the
angels of God follow his dfreotion, which, upon the account of their natural
perfection, they refused to submit unto, because they were then to be subject
to the human nature. _
In aU these ways unbehef has a resemblance to the deril'a sin. It affects
an equality with God in a self dependence, rests in the sufficiency of its own
righteousness, without bovring down the will to the acceptance of grace,
delights not in subjection to God, refuseth Christ, the head and mediator
of God's appointment. In aU which pride ia aignal ; and indeed pride of
reason, and pride of wUl, are the two arms wherein the strength of unbe
lief liea.
This latter way, whereby the deril is said to sm, eeems to be naore pro
bable. They are said to faU through pride ; not a pride of aspiring to be
equal with their Creator, for they, being created with the clearest intellec
tuals, and knowmg themaelves to be creatures under an almighty power,
would not attempt that which they could not but know at the first appear
ance to be an utter imposaibility. This would suppose an error in their
understanding, which their perfect nature could not incline to. It is not,
therefore, hkely that thefr sin was to desfre the Godhead, or to be partaker
of the nature of God in an equahty with him. Nothing m God or his nature
could dieplease them, or be any occasion of their pride, and they had power
over corporeal things ; but there might happen something in the disposal of
the lower thinga of the world which might not be ao agreeable to them, and
therein thejir deafres might be averse from that which was the design of God;
and so it is easy to conceive that a revelation of the incarnation of Christ
bemg made to them, and the human nature being deputed in that union to
rule over the angels, this might displease them ; for among aU objects
whereby any occasion of aversion from -Qeod. might arise in them, this is
most hkely. It was the moat considerable thing to preside and rule over
mankind, and God's disposing of it otherwise in subjecting them to that
nature, which, because of the excellency of their own nature they expected
to rule over, ia the moat probable ground of thefr aversion. It waa pride,
and pride immediately againat God cannot so easily be supposed, as pride
upon this occasion we have spoken of.
And that such a rejecting Christ might be their sin may have some rea
sons for it ; however, they vrill evidence this sin to be a conformity to the
devil, (1.) Because of the constant and uninterrupted opposition he has always
manifested to the Son of God. He hath always discovered more enmity to
the nature and mediation of Christ, and the faith of men in him, than he
hath againat the nature of God. He never ao much opposed the notion of
one aupreme God in the world ; aupremacy of one God was acknowledged
by all the heathena ; but he endeavoured to block up any way of thefr
entertaining the true mediator, by filling them with notions of many media
tors between God and mankind, in which rank all the deities they worshipped
were accounted by them, and looked upon but as mediators between the one

John XVI. 9.] unbelief the gbeatest sin. 269
supreme God and his creatures in the world. He hath always set himself
in opposition to Christ, both among Jews and Gentiles, that he might not
he believed to he the Meaaiah. Though he be againat the whole Trinity,
yet he seems to have a more particular spite against the second person, as
ifhe had suffered more upon his account, for some crime against him, than
against any other of the blessed peraona in the Trinity. He raised up per
secution against him from his coming into the world ; he seta Herod against
him when he was an infant ; the rulers and rabble of the Jews, when he
entered into his office ; singles him out to shoot his greatest temptations
against ; acted Judas to betray him ; raiaed storms against the apostles and
his disciples in all parta of the world ; broached errors against his deity,
against his humanity, and corrupted his ordinances ; so that Christ in his
doctrine hath not been at quiet from this great enemy since he came firat
into the world. Upon which account Christ and Satan are aet in direct oppo
aition in Scripture ; Chriat is called the Son of man, as being the friend of
man ; the devil ia called Satan, as being the adversary of man ; he endea
vours to destroy man, and Christ came to destroy the works of the devil ;
he is the accuser of man, and Christ the advocate of man. Upon the
account of this opposition he is said more particularly to work in the first
time of the gospel : Eph. ii. 2, ' Now works in the chUdren of disobedience ;'
now, the gospel is come, and a crucified Sariour preached as the mediator
between God and man, and the fountain of grace, he works with more
strength and vigour than before. He had his empire formerly in the world ;
but now he works aa ifhe had not wrought at all before ; now he works in
the children of disobedience (or airnSiag, of unpersuadableness), to hinder them
from the embracing Christ. The angels are the ministers of Christ in his
mediatory kingdom ; if the service of Christ be the office of angels, it is
probable, the refusal to serve Christ in that office was partly the sin of
devils. (2.) Satan is the head of the unbelieving world, and men are said to
be the children of the devil with a respect to this particular sin : John viii. 44,
' Yon are of your father the devil, and the luats of your father you wiU do :
he waa a murderer from the beginning, and abode not in the truth, because
there is no truth in him.' And the firat murder committed in the world, by
the power of the deril in the heart of man, was in contempt of faith and the
object of it, as viz., the murder of Abel by Cain, the head of the unbeliev
ing world. They had been disputing against the doctrine of faith which
Christ had preached to them, ver. 12 and ver. 24, and with respect to his
diacourse with them, and their unbeliering disputes against him, he tells
them they were the devil's children, and they did his luata. The lusta of
the devil were auitable to the lusts the pharisees acted in this dispute ; ' he
was a murderer from the beginning, and abode not in the truth ; ' he was a
moral murderer of the angels that adhered to him, and were solicited by
him to a revolt and mutiny ; he brought them as well as himself into a
spiritual death ; he abode not in the truth, the truth which the phariaeea
now oppoaed, and which Christ had heard of God, ver. 40 ; and when they
charged him that he had a devil, ver. 48, he renders a reason why he had
not a devil, ver. 49, 50, because he sought not his own glory, intimating
thereby that the' devil's ain wae a aeeking his own glory; and certainly he
may be well said to seek hia own glory, that reaolves to stand by his own
natural righteouaness. This place doth intimate to us, that the pharisees,
in their opposition to Christ, sinned that sin which the devil sinned from
the beginning, i. e. the beginning of his sin ; and that ain must be a resem
blance to this of the pharisees, which was an unwilhngness to own Christ as

270 chabnock's wobks. [John XVI. 9,
thefr head to stand by. And the whole mass of unbehevers are included in
Satan as their head : Gen. xii. 3, ' I will bless them that bleaa thee, and
curse him that curseth thee.' Them, in the plural number, him in the
singular. Him respecting Satan, cursed in that first promise, as opposite to
the seed of the woman in a peculiar manner ; this him the Jews understand
of Satan ; he waa the first unbeliever in the world, who drawa a train after
him, and propagates that interest of unbehef among tbe sons of men. He
is the cursor of all those who have any'faith in Christ, and may weU be
counted the head of all unbelievers, as he was the first broacher of that ain
of unbeUef which is directly contrary to the blessing of Abraham. And in
regard of this unbelief in Christ, Judas is caUed a devil : John vi. 70, ' I
have chosen you twelve, and one of you is a devU.' He hath the deril's
nature and spirit in him in thia sin.
(3.) The peculiar sense and reflection the devil hath upon himself at the
appearance of Christ, seema to intimate this : Mat. viii. 29, ' They cried out,
saying. What have we to do with thee, Jesus, thou Son of God ? art thou
come to torment us before the time ? ' They intimate thefr great sin in a
alighting of him, ' What have we to do with thee ?' which ia a apeech of con
tempt and indignation, as 2 Sam. xvi. 10, ' What have I to do with you, ye
sons of Zeruiah ? ' so Joshua xxii. 24, ' What have you to do with the Lord
God of Israel ? ' They could not endure the sight of that person they had
peculiarly refused, and for the refusal of whom they were involved in thefr
misery. The expecting a signal torment at his hands upon his appearance,
implies that their sin was more particularly against him ; it flying in their face
at that time, and filling them with a fresh expectation of indignation at
the sight of the Judge, whom they had offended, by refuaing his headship
and direction.
Now, this sin of the derils, which seema to be this of refusing Christ as
the foundation of their standing, and which was anciently generaUy supposed
to be their crime, is not formally the same with our unbelief, but materially
it is. They rejected not Christ as redeemer, because they stood in no need
of redemption, having not then sinned, but rejected Christ as confirmer,
choosing rather to stand upon their own bottom and righteousness than
have any assistance from confirmation by grace in the method of God's
proposing. So that unbelief,
(1.) Is first an imitation ofthe devil's sin. It is a particular invasion of
the rights of God as a governor and benefactor, who hath power in both
regards to appoint his own ways and methods of doing hia creaturea good,
and directing them how they should serve him, and be preserved or saved
by him ; so it is an imitation of the devil, who would not be subject to God's
direction, but either not serve him, or else serve him according to his own
understanding. We are like him in thia, when we would save ourselves
according to our own methods. If the sin of the derils were a priding
themselves in their own created excellency, as thefr chief good and ultimate
end, depending upon those admirable perfections of thefr nature by creation,
and refusing the grace offered to them for their continuance in their created
happiness, then unbelief is still the same with the sin of devils, because the
root of it is a seeking our own glory, a glorying in our own natural or moral
perfections, or sinful affections, and thereupon refuaing to come under the
rule of God, and submit to his grace discovered in Christ. The buUding our
selves and hopea upon our own righteousness, is equivalent to that of the
devUs, resting upon their own natural perfection in a way of independence
upon God. But howsoever, since the first sin the deril discovered upon

John XVI. 9.] unbelief the gbeatest sin. 271
the earth after his fall was a questioning the trath of God, which he parti
cularly contradicted in his discourse with Eve, fastening a lie upon God, —
Gen. iii. 4, ' You shall not die,' — our unbehef is a resemblance to him in
this, which though it slights all God's attributes, yet strikes sorest at hia
truth, both in his promiaea, precepts, and threatenings.
(2.) It ia an obedience to Satan. The devil rales in every unbeliering
person. His lust we do in this ain, John viii. 44. And this sin is hia
stronghold whereby he governs men according to his pleaaure. It is faith
he chiefly assaults in the believer. The truth of God's commands he dis
puted with Eve, and the truth of the gospel promisea he disputes with every
true Christian. He put it into the heart of Judas to betray Christ, and he
obeyed him ; he puts it into the heart of every unbeliever to contemn
Christ, and he submits to him. Every ain indeed is an obedience to the
devil ; but aince the height of his malice is to cast dirt upon God's glory in
the work of redemption, infidelity is a compliance with him in his principal
deaign. He aimed at nothing more in his first temptation of man than to
draw him into an ill opinion of God, and designs nothing more than to keep
him in it.
All his endeavours were to hinder the redemption of man by the Son of
God. Since he hath failed in that, his skill and pains are employed to stop
the application of it, and stave men off from the acceptance. To that pur
pose he solicits men to continue under his banners with hopes of better
pay than under the standard and yoke of Christ. Every unbeliever impli
citly swears an allegiance to him ; there are but two heads, disobedience to
one is obedience to the other ; he that is not with Christ is against him ;
he that comes not under his government is a sworn vassal of the devils.
(3.) It is like the sin of devils in the manner of thefr sinning. They
sinned in a state of entire felicity, we sin in a capability of the highest hap
piness in regard of divine offers. They ' forsook their own habitation ' with
God, Jude 6, and we contemn a return to the fruition of God, after many
experiences of the miseries of our fall, and the gracious indulgence of our
offended Creator. And by how much the more unmerited the grace is, and
the less claim can be pretended to it, by so much the more contemptuous
is the violation and refusal of it.
(4.) It is a sin greater than that of devils. They refused the headship
of Christ over them, when they had no experience in themselves or others
of the miseries attending their refusal, till their lost happiness was past
recovery ; we refuse it, when we know in some sort what devils suffer, and
unbelievers wiU suffer for their contempt. How may the devUs plead. Lord,
we sinned but against one covenant, we never were under a covenant of
grace, we were offered to come under the head of thy appointment, but our
pride ruined us. Howsoever, this head never assumed our nature, nor was
punished in our stead ; we were left to the doleful sound of our own chains,
while those had liberty again and again proclaimed to them ; thou didst
stand ready to strike off their fetters and fasten ours. Had we had the
mercies offered to us which those wretchea have despised, and had we had
hopes after some ages to be dehvered from our punishments, we should have
hved joyful in our future hopes, though in present misery. Our sins were
not at such a rate aa the sins of those guilty unbelieving souls. We did
indeed refuse the covert of the wings of the Son of God. But we never
refused a Christ bearing our sins in our nature, for none was offered to us,
after the experience of the miaery of our first contempt. Can any such plea
be made by an unbeliever under the sound of the gospel ?
The devUs never sinned against God, that was made an angel for them ;

272 chabnock's woeks. [John XVI. 9*
nor ever experimented so great a goodness ;* they never sinned against a
God that conversed with them thirty years in the midst of sorrow and
misery, repeating instractions to repentance, and encouraging them with
hopes of pardon ; but our unbelief ia against. a God who hath multiplied his
goodness, lamented our sins in the garden, and bore the guilt of them upon
the cross. The contempt of such astonishing goodness renders our unworthy
carriage towards him more inexcusable than that of devils.
2. It is of the same nature with the first ain of Adam and Eve, which so
highly provoked the anger of God, and brought such a deluge of miseries
upon mankind ; and in some regard it is greater than theirs.
(1.) It was the first sin of Adam. Not that it appears that Adam had
the same formal object of faith as we have, viz., Christ a mediator ; since
there appeara no discovery of Chriat till after the fall, in the promiae of the
aeed of the woman to bruise the serpent's head. Some, indeed, say that
Christ was typified by the tree of life in paradise, because he is called in
Scripture ' the true vine,' ' the bread of life ;' and by ' the tree of life,' Rev.
ii. 7 and xxii. 14, they understand Chriat the foundation of all happiness of
man in innocency. Thia seems to have no foundation in the history of
Adam's creation and fall, yet I know not what may be in it upon the sup
position of many, and most of the schoolmen, that the devil's ain was, as
hath been apoken before, a pride against Christ as thefr head ; and perhaps,
had Adam waited, Christ had been revealed as head of his standing. But
this ia clear, that Adam endeavoured to atand upon his own bottom, to be
a rule of righteousneaa, and of the knowledge of good and eril to himself
and was not content to wait upon God in the way of his precept for a further
revelation from him of hia mind and will. To wait upon God in the revela
tions he hath made, and believe his veracity in his promises and threatenings,
is one part of faith ; not to depend upon him, but choose a dependence on
ourselves, to turn our backs upon his revealed will, to be our own carvers,
is unbelief, which Adam was highly guilty of. The first poison which was
diffused by the breath of the serpent, brought forth this cursed monster :
Gen. iii. 1, ' Yea, hath God aaid, you ahall not eat of every tree of the gar
den ?' exciting Eve to a diffidence of the mind of God, that he had not so
contracted a goodness, and ao httle love to his creature, as to deny him the
enjoyment of that fruit which seemed ao good for food, and pleasant to the
eyes above any tree of the garden ; that since God had created paradise for
man, and put him in poaaession of it, man Burely mistook the speech of God
to him, and waa a wrong interpreter of God'a intentiona. Afterwards, the
serpent descending from a question, ver. 1, 'Hath God said?' to a plain
assertion, ver. 4, ' Ye shall not surely die,' engenders unbelief, and conse
quently the misery of aU mankind. Some anciently did,t and the papists
now do, assert the first sin of Adam to be pride ; who hearing from his wife,
that upon eating that fruit he should be as God, conceived aspiring thoughts
in his own mind, affected a self-excellency and dependence, and left waiting
upon God to bottom upon himself; for unless he had aimed higher than he
ought to aim, he had continued in his innocent state. But what was the
cause of thia pride ? Was it not giving credit to the words of the deril be
fore the command and commination of God, regarding the precept as a
falsity, and the threatening as a bugbear ?J The firat solicitation was to
doubt of the veracity of God in his threatening, which they greedily swal
lowed, without any reflections upon the word of God spoken to them before ;
whence there was first an error in the understanding, before there was a
* Niremberg. de Adorat, lih, i, cap. vii, p 45. f Austin.
I Rivet, in Gen, Exceroit. xxxii. p. 125. Calvin Instit, lib, ii, cap i, parag. 4.

John XVI. 9.] unbelief the gbeatest sin. 273
corrupt appetite in the will : for aince the devil's assertion, that they ' should
be as gods,' was contrary to God's threatening, that they should die, they
could not receive that assertion for a truth, unleaa they first doubted of the
truth of the divine threatening, or had quite forgot it. So that it can scarce
be imagined how Adam should have a proud appetite without some act of
infidelity preceding ; though after that pride grew up to some atrength, the
infidelity and aversion to God was increased. Pride and unbelief do mutually
support and prop up one another. The first bait the devil laid was for un
behef : ver. 4, ' Ye shall not die.' And pride foUowed upon the heels :
ver. 5, ' Ye shall be as gods.' Pride had scarce rose ao high, had not infi
delity first given it a lift. Now, when the fallen spirit had got more credit
with man than the Creator, and had instilled into him a false notion of God,
nothing appeared as a bar to any rebeUion. When infidelity had set foot in
the breach, it prepared the way for all the black legion which followed ;
then the dominion of God is alighted, the law of creation broken, dependence
on God rejected, man would be his own lord, his own all, and God should
be nothing to him. And upon the account of this unbelief, and the conse
quents of it in Adam, he is not reckoned among those heroes commended
for their faith, Heb. xi., not that Adam was void of faith in the promised
Messiah ; for had he not believed that promiae of a Redeemer, he would not
have been careful to have transmitted it to his posterity, nor have taught
Abel to sacrifice, who was instructed by his father in that religious service,
as typical of the mediator, since we read of no new revelation made to Abel
about him.* And it appears that God had instructed Adam in the offering
of him ; whence should he be clothed with the skins of beasta, without the
killing them, and that not for food, since no license was for that granted,
that we read of, till after the deluge, but for sacrifice : and it cannot be sup
posed that Adam should be one hundred and twenty-nine years without
regarding the great type of the mediator in sacrifices ; for in that year it is
supposed Abel was killed, because Seth was born the one hundred and
thirtieth year of Adam, Gen. v. 3.f But the reason perhaps ia, because his
first unbelief, whereby he was the author of the ruin of mankind, obscured
the glory of his after faith, the Scripture continually setting him forth as the
original of all our miseries, and opposing him to Christ the restorer : Rom.
v. 14, ' Death reigned from Adam,' 1 Cor. xv. 22, 45, as also because the
Scripture records no personal act of Adam after his fall, whereby hia faith is
evidenced to us. Unbelief was the sin of Adam, and faith the grace of
Christ. Adam did not believe either the necessity of the precept, or infaUi
bility of the threatening ; our Saviour believed the precepts, both of the
moral and mediatory law, to obey them, and the promises of God in the
covenant of redemption, to rest upon God in them. And by the way, we
may see a reason why God will recover us in a way of faith, because we firat
apostatised from him for want of it ; he wUl have his honour restored by
the creature's beheving him, as it was first sullied by the creature's be
lying him.
[2.] Our unbelief is greater than Adam's, either than that before his faU,
or in any act of it after the promise of redemption, or greater than hia could
be, suppoaing him to be a total unbeliever.
(1.) Greater than that before hia faU. Hia waa against a threatening, for
we read of no promiae made him before, though a promise is imphed : Gen.
ii. 17, 'Of the tree of the knowledge of good and evU thou shalt not eat
of it, for in the day that thou eatest thereof thou shalt surely die,' and he
* Cloppenburg de sacriflc. pp. 12, 13. t Hyperius in Heb, xi. 4, p. '490.

VOL. IV.

s

274 chabnock's woeks. [John XVI. 9.
waa to live by his obedience ; ours against threatenings and pronaises also ;
his sin was against creating goodness, not against a crucified Saviour ; that
was ingratitude to God as Creator, ours mgratitude to God as Creator and
Redeemer ; our redemption was with greater difficulty than our creation ;
this was done by a word, and it waa a verbal declaration Adam denied credit
unto ; but the other was not without the death of the Son of God, a real
testimony of God's veracity, superior to a bare verbal one. The creation
met with no reluctancy in any attribute of God ; this, according to the
scheme of divinity, for our more clear apprehension of the order of redemp
tion, met with a reluctancy from justice. It could be no apot on the honour
of God to create, it was a manifestation of his goodness, without any appear.
ance of contradiction ; it might seem a blot upon his honour and kindness to
his Son, to prefer the [rebel world before the life and peace of his only
begotten : hia goodness to his creature seems to interfere with hia goodness
to his best beloved. Our unbehef and sin against the goapel, is of a more
grisly hue in this respect than his, because against a manifestation of greater
goodness. Ours ia against a better covenant ; and if that brought confusion
on the world, much more will this increase our confusion, as well as our sin.
That was but against one threatening, ours against many threatenings and
promises ; that, when the only person he had to converse with, riz.. Eve,
persuaded him to it ; ours, when many disauade us from it ; not but that
Adam's sin was very great, he not haring a corrupted nature, the task ap
pointed him being not hard, abstinence from one tree only enjoined him,
with more ease to be kept than broken. To break it, therefore, was a pre
sumptuous sin,* which is aggravated in that he received the restraint
immediately from God, which Eve did not ; neither doth God speak with
an audible voice from heaven to us, but by the mediation of hia word trans
mitted to us from age to age ; yet in the former respects, our unbehef is of a
deeper aggravation than his.
(2.) Greater than any act could be after his faU, or supposing him to be a
total unbeliever. It had been still only against a word, and ours against a
deed ; it had been against the mediator in a promiae, ours against a mediator
on the cross, and on the throne ; it had been against God promising, ours
againat God performing ; his had been againat God assuring it, oura against
God acting it ; hia had been but againat one promiae, ours against many ; it
had been when there was not one to give him an example of faith, ours is
when we are encompassed with a ' cloud of witnesses,' Heb. xii. 1, referring
to the catalogue of believers mentioned in chap. xi. Indeed, Adam's faith,
and the faith of believers in the old world, condemns our want of it. He
believed, when he had no experience of the performance of any truth but
that in the threatening, nor the experience of any other that went before
him ; but we have had the experience of God'a making good hia promise, and
maintaining his gospel. We find the promise made to Adam, and aU those
concerning the Meaaiah made to the fathers, eminently performed ; the threat
enings of God upon the unbeheving Jews, the crucifiers of the Redeemer,
executed ; additional incentives to believe more than Adam had. We read
but of one promise Adam and Abel, and the rest of the patriarchs before the
flood, had, and we find not any one promise upon record made to the old
world besides that first to Adam ; and, therefore, suppoaing Adam and the
rest had been unbelievers, their unbelief had not been so black as ours,
because we have so much more encouragement than they had, by how much
a real performance doth exceed a verbal promiae.
Consider, then, upon the whole, that every act of unbelief in us is an act-
* Kellet Miscel, lib i, cap. iv. sect. vii. p. 68.

John XVI. 9.] unbelief the gbeatest sin. 275
ing over the sin of Adam, an approbation of hia miscarriage, whioh provoked
God to pour^down so many miseries upon the corrupted world. It is a sin,
indeed, of that magnitude, that it equals everything in greatneaa, but that
infinite mercy which can pardon it, and embrace the returning penitent.
(3.) Unbelief ia a afri against the law of nature. There are two principles
evident to man hy the natural law ; —
1. That God is to be believed.
2. Our happiness is to be desired and secured.
[1.] Aa unbelief is against a divine revelation, it is against the light of
nature. Though nature cannot ascend to many truths before a revelation by
God, yet, when the revelation is made, and reason sees the characters of
divine authority upon it, or hath no cogent arguments against it, to deny it
to be the mind and promise of God, not to believe it is a violation of the
law of nature ; because the poorest reason dictates this, that suppoaing God
hath made a declaration of hia will in any promise, or precept, or threatening,
man is to believe what God promiseth or commands ; because reason will
tell him, that God cannot deceive, that veracity or truth is a necessary per
fection of the divine nature ; that God is able to perform what he promiseth,
and therefore man is bound to believe what God promiseth, assent to it,
accept of it ; and believe what he commands, assent to it, and obey it. No
reaaon can be rendered to prove anything in the world ao certainly trae aa
this principle, that I ahould beheve God ; if I do not believe him, I offend
againat the most indisputable principle of reason, against that which nature
dictates. As no nation changeth their gods whioh they think to be gods,
Jer. ii. 11, so no people can alight that which they think to be the mind of
their God, without making a breach upon their own reason. In thia case
faith is to be considered two ways ; aa it is an assent to a revelation of God,
or as it is a special instrument of apprehending, and laying hold on Chriat
for justification, &o. In the first sense, faith is a virtue we are obliged to
by the light of nature ; in the second sense, it is purely an evangelical grace.
Now, the law of nature tella ua, our Creator ia to be credited in any propo
sition he makes ; that our belief of him is a carriage due to him ; that it is
infinite goodness, he will condescend to reveal himself in ways of mercy to
his creature ; and that this divine goodness requires an answerable and suit
able return ; that whataoever ia revealed ought to be entertained by all the
faculties of the soul, believed in the understanding, embraced by the will,
and welcomed by all the affections ; for all the faculties of the soul being
created by God, ought, by the law of their creation, to rise up in a due
respect to everything that flowa from him. If so be, then, men do assent
to the gospel to be of divine revelation, and pretend to believe the promises,
precepts, and threateninga contained therein, to have the stamp of a divine
authority upon them, and yet rise not up in a heartily welcoming the terms
of it, and pay not a suitable allegiance to that which they account the will of
God, they must needs consider themselves aa violatera of the law of nature,
and have reason to he sensible that the law of the creation will strengthen
the evangelical sentence against them ; for it is against the nature of a
rational creature to neglect that which he is satisfied the author of hia reason
doth propose to him. And those that are not allured to God by that which
they think to be an act of his love, are worse than beasts : they are not men,
because they neglect that love which is the cord of a man, proper for the
drawing him to God. Unbelief is a plain contradiction to divine revelation.
If a man think the gospel to be of divine authority, hia not embracing it
ariseth from a conceit that the things proposed in it are not necessary to the
attaining of happiness, or that they are not as conducing to it as other means

276 chabnock's woeks. [John XVI. 9.
of his own invention ; that they are either useless, or not neceasarily uaefiil ;
and in thia he contradicts the law of nature, which preacribes an acquies
cence in, and veneration of, anything which we have ground to think is of
divine authority.
[2.J Aa it is against the principles of self love. Since God hath revealed
the way of the gospel, and men fancy to themselves either that they are not
miserable, or that they can have some other remedy for their misery, they
offend against that natural principle of self preservation, and that in the
highest concern imaginable, their eternal happiness and avoiding an etemaUy
doleful miaery. In the gospel, there are set forth pardon, peace, blessedness
in heaven to the behever ; death, hell, judgment to the unbeliever. The
natural principle of self-love, if listened to, will direct a man to dread the
misery and thirst for the happiness. There is so much light in every man,
as to affect and desfre a blessed immortality ; for he believes there is a God,
he believes that his soul is immortal, he hath natural arguments to evince
that there is a state of happiness or misery after this life. He may know
that he could never come out of God's mint in such a rude and filthy posture
wherein he finds himself, that he waa created for higher ends than those he
doth commonly pursue ; that there ia no blessedness but in the enjoyment
of some higher good than any he finds in the world ; that this blessedness
doth consist in the fruition of God ; that there must be some way of attain
ing this : Ps. iv. 6, ' There be many that say. Who will ahew us any good ? '
Who will free us from thia labyrinth of misery wherein we are involved ? is
the voice of sensible nature. Then, natural reason may step in and conclude
that this way proposed in the gospel is the most rational way, and though
there be some mysteries in it above the ken of natural reason, and too dazz
ling for it ; yet, taking it in the whole combination, it gives a fuller content
to natural and unbiassed reason, with salvoes for the honour of God, and
means for the happiness of the creature, than any religion doth. Now, when
the gospel proposeth things naturally desirable by man, with means to attain
those good things, and motives, from the transcendent love and grace of God
to the creature, to excite his industry, for a man not to believe, is to put
himself in a way of contradiction to his own natural deafres, to cross his own
happiness, fall out with himself, and stifle that principle of self-preservation
which is natural to him, with all other creatures in their several kinds ; and
this principle is contradicted in every step unbelief takes in the world. I do
not, by thia discourse, ascribe any clearness to natural reason in the things
of the gospel, or that man hath by nature a principle of a ready compliance
with it, but that the happiness the gospel proposeth ia naturally desirable
and desired by all men ; but it is not entertained by men because of their
natural enmity against it, not against the good things proposed in it, but
against the means and methods which God hath ordered for the attainment
of them, viz. by a way of faith, a principle the pride of reason carils with.
It is man's enmity, and not his ignorance, makes him reject that in the gospel,
which he desires by his natural constitution aa a rational creature ; and this
is such a folly, which admits of no excuse, to refuse those thinga which are
the most gratifying excellences in themselves, for a vanishing trash, a lust,
which is but a magazine of torments, and treasury of everlasting wrath.
So that to conclude this, since it is confessed, I suppose, by aU of us, that
the gospel is of divine revelation, that the happineaa the gospel doth propose
is desirable, if we do not heartily embrace it in the terms of it, we contradict
the two clearest principles acknowledged by all men in the world by the light
of nature ; we practically deny that what God reveals ought to be entertained,
and we act against that natural love to ourselves, which is the rule of the love

John XVI. 9.] unbelief the gbeatest sin. 277
we owe to others, and which is so riveted in the creature that it cannot cease,
but with a dissolution and annihilation of its being. It can never be blotted
out of the damned in heU, and in both respects we riolate the clearest dic
tates of nature.
(4.) Unbehef is the cause of aU the abominations and neglects of God
committed by men under the gospel. Beaides that unbelief hath been the
cause in Adam of all the sina whereby the law is violated and God grieved.
it is the cause of all sins where the gospel is preached. As man first fell
because he did not beheve God's threatening, so, since the revelation of Christ,
he continues in sin, because he wiU not believe God's promises. He is not
like to be controlled by any reason, or diverted from letting loose the reins
to any lust, who wiU not give any credit to God, either promising, command
ing, or threatening ; for as faith unites us to an holy God and a spotleaa
Saviour, whereby we become holy, so tsnbelief unites us to an impure deril,
who, by the help of thia, engenders monatroua iniquitiea in the soul ; so that
it may be said of thia, as the apostle, James iii. 6, aaith of the tongue, ' It
is a fire, a world of iniquity; it defiles the whole soul, sets on fire the course
of nature, and is set on fire of hell.' It is the ringleader of aU sin in the
world, and the common incendiary that puts to the fire when any bullet is
shot against God, and therefore hath a sinfulness in it above other sina,
because it gives life and spirit to them aU. The reason is plain, because the
will moves to the embracing of things according as the understanding judgeth
them to be good, and refuseth them aa the underatanding judgeth them to
be evil.* If the motion of the wiU, therefore, be not towards God, but to
the filth of the world, it is because the underatanding is erroneous, not fully
posaeased with a behef that God ia, and that he hath promiaed those good
things declared in the gospel ; for the vrill cannot have any motion which is
not one way or other determined by the understanding ; and when the under
standing is possessed by ill notions of thinga, it is an ignis fatuus, and the
will ia apt to be mialed by it into any slough.
Which appears several ways.
[1.] Faith is the root of all other graces ; unbelief must, therefore, be the
foundation of all other sins.f Faith and unbelief are contrary, and there
fore have contrary effects ; fear of God, or faith in God, is the beginning of
wiadom, Prov. ix. 10 ; infidehty ia the flood-gate through which all impiety
entera. When we want faith to give credit to God, we shall have enough
to give credit to the devil, who suits our humour. By faith Abraham obeyed
God, Heb. xi. 8. Had not Abraham had faith in the promise, he had never
obeyed God in sacriflcing his Isaac ; and where there ia a want of faith in
God, there will not be a sacrificing one Isaac for him. Not one sin but vrill
be engendered in the womb of this, as well as not one grace but grows up
from the womb of faith. As faith purifies the heart, ao unbelief fiUa it with
loathsome guests. No grace can be planted where unbehef is rooted, no
more than corn can thrive where the ground ia overgrown with weeda.
Branches may as well flourish without a root, aa any grace be planted with
out faith. Aji unbeliever is a dead man, deprived of the image of God, and
Uable to all kind of putrefaction, bearing the mark of the devil upon his soul,
void of the Spirit of God, which is the principle of life. As it is the pro
perty of faith to work by love, so it is the contrary property of unbelief to
work by enmity to, and hatred of, God. As faith is a going out of ourselves
to God to please him, ao unbehef is a departing from the living God, to our
selvea and everything that is at variance with him.
* Mestrezat. ser. v. sur, Hebr. iii. p, 222.
t Contrariorum eontrarise sunt affectioaes et contraria effecta.

278 chabnock's woeks. [John XVI. 9.
[2.] If we consider every particular sin, thia of unbelief wiU appear to he
the cause of it. Why are men proud ? Becauae they believe not God re
sists them. Why are men covetous ? Because they beheve not that God
abhors it at the same rate with the sin of idolatry. Why are men unchari
table to others in their necessities ? Because they believe not that he that
gives to the poor lends to the Lord. Why are men ignorant ? Because
they believe not the word concerns them ; therefore ignorance and unbehef
are put together, 2 Cor. iv. 3, 4. Why are men luUed in security in their
treacherous ways with God ? Because they bely the Lord, and count the
prophet's worda no firmer than wind, Jer. v. 11-18. Why do not men fear
him ? Because they believe neither hia goodness nor juatice. Why do not
men seek after God ? Becauae hia judgmenta are far above out of their
sight, Ps. X. 5 ; they believe not their march towarda them. What is the
reason men neglect addresses to God, or pray so rarely or coldly ? Because
they believe him not to be a God hearing prayer, or beheve not Christ to be
an advocate. Why do men make show of religion to serve an interest'or
lust ? Because they believe not God to be a searcher of the heart and a
trier of the reins. Why did Sarah laugh and mock at the promise of God?
Because she considered more the weakness of her age than the faithfulness
and power of the promisor. Gen. xviii. 11, 12 ; she first imagined the pro
mise false, that God mocked her, thence she fell to mocking God, and then
to lying. Why did the Israelites murmur against God ? Because they did
not believe him for all the signa he had shewn among them. Num. xiv. 11.
Do not our hearts in afflictions sink into fears, because we believe not God's
sovereign wisdom and fatherly love in the ordering of them ? Why do we
fear man that shall die ? Because we forget the Lord our maker, Isa. Ixi.
12, 13. And why do we seek unlawful means to help ourselves ? Because
we believe not either the tenderness or all-sufficiency of his providence.
What is the reason men are unreasonable and wicked, always persecuting
them that would live godly ? Because they have not faith, 2 Thes. in. 2.
Apostasy and hardness of heart are the births of thia fruitful monster, Heb.
iii. 12, 13. The evil heart of unbelief causeth to depart from the living
God ; he that undervalues the promise will not cleave to the precept, and
makes no scruple to hurl away that which he beheves not to be true, and
change religion as the state changea profession. All miscarriages may be
traced to this as their prime spring ; it ia therefore called not simply un
belief, but an evil heart of unbehef, that which gives advantage to the devil
to pour all the floods of wickedness into the heart. What rebeUions against
God, resistance of the Spirit, contempt of ordinances, will he not engage in
who believea God a liar ? Not any sin in the world but may be found in
this sink ; I may therefore call it the original sin under the gospel, as infi
delity was the original sin in Adam under the covenant of works. Where
this unbelief ia partial, all defecta in believera themselves must be ascribed
to it. Whataoever deviations there are from the precepts of the gospel are
either from an habitual unbelief, or the remainders of it in the heart ; they
are either from a want of faith in the habit or in the act. Christ evidenceth
this in his prayer for Peter, that his faith might not fail, Luke xxii. 32.
Where faith fails, the soul will sink into any sin. Hia weakness of faith was
the cause of hia sad fall, and a total want of it had kept him under the
power of it for ever as weU as Judas ; and though a total dissent from or a
contradiction to the truth of the gospel, aa conaidered as truth, be incon'
sistent with the nature and temper of a true Christian, yet there ia too often
such an unbelief, which is a want of a due esteem and value of the things of

John XVI. 9.] unbelief the gbeatest sin. 279
the gospel, which is the wicket and breach whereby sin enterSi, and plays
rex sometimes in them.
[8.] Unbelief alights that which can only enable us to conquer sin. The^
end of Christ's coming was to ' finish transgression and to make an end of
sin,'* to stop the flood of iniquity which had overflowed the world from the
day of Adam's fall, to restrain it from exercising that empire ajid authority
it had usurped in the earth. Though this was not the motive to God to
send Chriat, yet it was a main end of hia misaion ; for it consisted not with
the hohness or sovereignty of God to have a satisfaction made for sin with
out a destruction of the body of ain. It had also been a design below the
love the Redeemer bore to his Father and to us, to free us only from our
guilt, and let us remain under the power of our sin. And indeed Christ
freed us from the curse of the law, that we might with more cheerfulness
walk in the precepts of it ; and reconcUed an offended God, that we might
be capable of a new and spkitual service of him. Faith ia the first grace
wrought in the aoul in pursuance of the end of the death of Chriat, to pull
down thereby the corruption which had swayed the aceptre so many agea.
Unbelief, thcB, being contrary to this, slights all those helps and assistances
against transgression, and preserves sin in its full authority and command ia
the soul. It keeps a man from complying with this design of God in Chriat,
and stakes the soul down in its slavery to ain. An unbehever cannot per
form any real service to God, because where the tree is not good, the fruit
cannot be good. He is off from, and hates the root, which can only convey
sap to him for the bringing forth such fruita which are acceptable to God :
John XV. 3-5, ' Without me you can do nothing,' nothing savoury to God.
' As the branch cannot bring forth fruit, except it abide in the vine,' and
partake of its juice. They cannot pray, which is a main help against the
power of sin ; for ' how can they call upon him in whom they have not be
lieved ?' Rom. X. 14. It keeps in vigour aU the principles of sin,
encourageth and welcomes all the motions to sin, though it doth not always
put them forth visibly into act, becauae of some external impedimenta. It
bars the heart againat true principles of service, and the assistances the
Holy Ghost proffers, and thwarts God in that which was one of his principal
designs. It repels those promises and threatenings which are the arma of
the goapel ; promises of life to the believer, and denunciations of death to
the unbehever, Mark xvi. 16, whereby souls are conquered to a submission
to it, and a war against their lusts. The promises are alluring, the threaten
ings affrighting ; both suited to the nature of man for the restoring his
affectiona. Unbelief now diaparageth the promises of the goapel, slights the
threatenings of the gospel, pulls back from any oonaideration of them, where
by they loae their edge and efficacy. Who will ever spend time in the con
sideration of that which he thinka to be false ? As the life of grace hes in
consideration, so the hfe of sin lies in a neglect of it, whioh ia occaaioned by
unbelief. It ia by the means of the promisea the heart is cleansed, 2 Cor.
vii. 1, and by the not beheving them the heart ia kept stuffed with that filth
it had.f For it supposeth a want of faith, that intrinsic principle whereby
we can only obtain help and remedy against sin. The word cannot be
operative, because there is not faith to believe. Had not Adam believed
that prdmise God made him after his firat infidelity, of the seed of the
woman, he had approved of his former unbelief, and rejected God'a design
of reatoring him to his aervice and duty ; which every aon of Adam doth, that
comphes not with the performance of that promise. God's end in sending
* Dan. ix. 24, WD signifies to restrain, shut up, or consume.
+ Suarez.

280 chabnock's woeks. [John XVI. 9.
Christ was to braiae the serpent's head; unbelief would either shield his
head, or apply a plaster to it for a cure.
[4.] Unbehef maintafris every sin in strength. Unbelief being a departing
from the hving God, the further the separation from God, the stronger the
empire and tyranny of sin. For as grace is most vigorous when faith is
most firm, so, on the contrary, sin must be strongest when unbelief is most
powerful. It is the great support and piUar of the devil's kingdom, which
muat totter and fall to the ground if this did expire. So much strength,
therefore, aa unbelief hath in any, so much strength hath every sin, which
either the conatitution inclines to, or the temptation allures to. It is the
protector of every sin, which would else lie bare to the strokes of the Spirit.
As faith is a shield against the darts of the deril, Eph. vi. 16, so this is a
shield against tbe sword of the Spirit. Faith ia ' the victory whereby we
overcome the world,' 1 John. v. 4. Unbelief ia the victory whereby the
world and every sin overcomes us. There is no unbeliever but, being in his
natural condition, hath the strength of all ain in hia heart lying in garrison.
Where unbelief reigns, the heart is evil, Heb. iii. 12 ; though this strength
is not always in exercise, aa the forcea of a garrison are not always in action ;
restraining grace may check it, but nothing but faith can kill it. Not one
sin could maintain its ground without unbelief Thia, as a stout general,
spirits the whole army. No sin can receive its death's-wound till this Goliath
be laid grovelling in the dust ; then doth the army of the PhUistines lose
both their hopes and courage. Sin, indeed, may suffer some damage by
moral considerations, and the soul be wrought upon by some affectionate dis
courses ; but as long as this champion standa in defence, sin will not be
utterly defeated : it wiU rally and recover its ground ; for while the main
cause of drawing back from God continues, the effect will follow upon occa
aion. And, therefore, when meh, after much profeaaion, glovring affections,
and godly reformations, and continuance some time in them, fall back again
to their old styles, you may conclude they never had faith, which would have
wounded their lusts vrith a deadly blow, as well as moral considerations
curbed them with a weak bridle. Such reformations proceed from a work
upon the affections, not upon the judgment, which perhaps hath a suspicion
that the things of the gospel may be true, but never waa possessed with an
entire belief of the truth of them. Unbelief ia the purveyor to feed sin, and
the protector to defend it. As faith grows, all other sina decay ; as unbe
lief grows, all other sins, by virtue of that, maintain their standing.
[6.] It excites all kind of sin in the heart. As the gospel received by
faith opposeth all sin, ' teaching us to deny ungodliness and worldfy lusts,'
Titus n. 12, so thia principle, oppoaite to thegospel, teacheth us to cherish aU sin.
As the more faith is exercised, the more other graces traverse the stage (for as
they depend upon faith in regard of their being, so they do also in regard of
their exercise), so the more unbelief is exercised, the more all kind of sin is
stirred up and quickened in the heart. As the goapel is enriched with aU
motives and directions to what ia righteous before God, and comely before
man, wherein whatsoever hath moral beauty, or ia of honourable eateem
among men, that desire to walk according to right reason, is commended and
pressed with the highest injunctions, which, if observed by men under the
gospel, would make the earth a paradise, reatore the honour of God, and the
beauty of the creation. So unbelief disgraceth these principles, degrades
them from that esteem they deserve in the hearts of men, discountenanceth
that which is spiritually noble and worthy, alarms the corrupt nature, brings
the force of it into the field against the principles of the gospel. Therefore,
where the goapel doth not refine and reform men by the operation of faith,

John XVI. 9.] unbelief the gbeatest sin. 281
men are rendered worse, more awkward towards God, and spiritually vricked
by the operation of unbelief, which is, per accidens, the effect of the gospel ;
as phyaic that doth not work and expel the humours, gives them advantage
to rage more in the body. As the gospel profits when mixed with faith, ao
it is wholly unprofitable when mixed with unbelief. Sin thereby draws
rather an encouragement from it, and takes occasion from thenoe to become
more furious. Hence is that rage commonly againat the gospel, when it
comes into any place where before it was not. The devil works by the un
belief of man to excite all the strength of corrupt nature againat it, to stop
the course of it ; and what hath been done in the world in the times of the
apoatles, and wiU be done to the end of the world, is a picture of what men
do secretly in their own hearts against the principles of it, by the strength of
their infidelity, which stfrs up all the serpentine principles in the heart
against it.
[6.] It denies all that evil which God hath testified that there is in sin.
When God, by the sending of Christ, hath witnessed to the world what a
boundless filth there is in sin, that could not be washed off by oceans of
blood, or purged by the firing of tbe whole world, or pardoned upon the soli
citations of men and angels, no, nor can by the intercession of the Son of
God, without his death too ; as faith by closing with Christ, and the
terms of the gospel, acknowledgeth all this evil in sin, so unbelief, by reject
ing him, avows the contrary, regards that as good which God declares to be
the greatest eril, respects that aa comely which God hath declared to be
moat loathsome and monstrous, prefers its own judgment of sin before the
holiness and judgment of God, which he hath manifested of it in the death
of Christ.
(5.) Unbelief possesseth the choicest facultiea of the soul. Other ains are
more aeated in the senaitive appetite : this in the understanding and will.
Other vices may arise from the humoura of the body ; anger and pride
owe their birth to a predominant choler ; wantonneas and luat to a fulness
of blood ; laziness and idleness stream from a lake of phlegm ; fearfulness,
jealousy, covetousness, and envy, from a dusky melancholy ; but unbelief
ariseth from the ignorance of the understanding and perversity of the will,
and moat from the latter, where it hath ita principal seat : John v. 40, 'You
will not come to me that you might have life.' In the proposal of the
gospel there are two things to be conaidered, the truth and the goodness ;
under which double consideration it is proposed. As it is true, faith em
bracing it, and unbelief rejecting it, are in the understanding ; as it is good,
faith entertaining it, and unbelief refusing it, are in the will. The falsity
and ignorance of unbelief is subjective in the mind. Contraries are con
versant about the same subject. Faith ia in the understanding, and there
fore infidehty, whioh is opposite to it, is in the same subject ; the malice of
unbelief is in the vrill, as the principal act of faith, whereby it receives
Christ, is in the will. A man'a wilfulness is the cause that he doth not
believe ; he doth not believe because he will not believe. That is a great
sin whioh possesseth the supreme faculties, and taints them more than any ;
and the more of the wiU is in any sin, the blacker is that sin.
(6.) It is most odious to God. If he delights in ' them that hope m his
mercy,' Pa. xxxiii. 18, he muat abominate them that think scorn to enter
tain it. It would bar God from aU opportunities of dispensing hia chiefest
goodness ; the fullest fountain would run in vain, and the richest feast be in
vain provided. ' Without faith it is impossible to please God,' Heb. xi. 6.
Though a man had the quintessence of all the moral virtues that any heathen
was ever enriched with, no man can please God but by Christ, no man can

282 chabnock's wobks. [John XVI. 9,
have Christ but by faith. Those therefore that hear of Chriat, and embrace
him not in the whole latitude as he is proposed as an object of faith, are the
highest diapleaaers of God. Without aome aort of faith it waa impossible to
please God, even in a atate of innocence ; Adam could not obaerve a pre
cept, fear a threatening, nor hope in a promiae, unless he believed him.*
But unbelief, since Christ is proposed, contains in it the greateat ingratitude
to God, when' God preventa the creature by the offera of love, and when
God ia offended, yet aeeka reconciliation, not only with those who have
offended him and begin to cease from it, but with those that actually offend
him while he is seeking peace with them, ' when we were yet sinners,' Rom.
V. 8. Men are called while they are actually in arma. Christ doth most
reprove his disciples for thia ; they had ambition and passion, many in
firmities ; yet we find our Saviour chiding them for nothing but their un
belief or, at least, not so severely, Mark xvi. 4, and ix. 19, Luke xxiv. 25.
He upbraida thoae cities wherein mighty works were done, ' because they
believed not.' God was most angry with Moses for his unbelief This
affronts God most; this is the object of his greateat anger and greatest hatred,
and therefore the greatest sm.
Use. If unbelief be the greateat sin.
I. Of information.
1. We may here take a view of the infinite patience and condescending
grace of God, to those that have a weakness of faith with a great mixture of
unbelief. (1.) His patience. This sin being so black as hath been described, a
reproaching him in all his attributes, and Christ in his gracious design,
V7orse than the unbelief of the Jewa, much of the aame nature with the first
sin of the devils, it is a wonder of patience that God auffera such a mountain
of sin to cumber the ground, aince it reacheth aa high as heaven and dares
the glorious throne of God, that God should not cut off those thorns which
are continually galling him, and fling them into the fire. Man is not so
impatient under anything aa disgrace ; God bears infinitely more reproaches
by this sin than all the men in the world ever bore, yet he hath as infinite a
patience to bear them as he hath power to punish them. None but a God
could spare such affronting sinnera, and endure so many acorns without
evidences of wrath, and have an unwearied patience under such a wearying
sin : Isa. rii. 13, ' Will you weary my God also ? ' which is apoken of Ahaz
his unbelief, aa was explained in the beginning of the diacourse.
(2.) Hia grace and condescension,
[1.] In the continuance of his gracious offers where the unbelief is total.
Astonishing kindness ! that after the first refusal of Christ, and repeated
acts of infidehty, God should still call and cry, come down from heaven and
knock ; that grace should atill aolicit the ainner, when that, and all the frain
of attributes attending it, are thrust off and violently struck at by this sin.
The first offer of Christ is a fruit of amazing grace, but the repetition after
such indignities is more hyperbolical, when he quickens his solicitations of
men under a sin of so high a provocation. Not any man possessed with
the grace of faith but hath withstood many invitations, disgraced the wisdom,
faithfulness, goodness, and holineaa of God ; accuaed him of the greatest
falsity, represented bim more base and deceitful than the worst of men or
devils ; and this after God hath raised the strongest bulwark against it, and
given the fuUest assurance to make void their suspicions of him ; himself
contriving redemption, his Son acting it, hia Spirit applying it, as if aU their
* Lingend. tom, iii, p. 250.

John XVI. 9.] unbelief the gbeatest sin. 283
employment were about this affair ; yet they have maintained their incre
dulity. When we consider thia, and the doubts and jealousiea when we first
set foot toward heaven, we cannot ceaae from wonder that ever God should
receive us.
[2.] In his gracious communications where there is a partial unbelief
It is admirable that when this, though partial, is such a reflection upon God,
that he doth not alter his methods, forbear the communications of his grace,
when we are often doubting of the stabihty of that grace. He is firm to his
truth in the midst of men's falseness to him, Rom. in. 3 ; the unbelief of
men ahall not make the faith or fidelity of God of none effect ; the unbelief
of that nation did not hinder his entrusting his oracles with them. As the
truth of God waa immutable to thoae that believed of the Jewiah nation,
though the unbelief of the moat was very gross, so he wUl be faithful to the
behever, though there be a mixture of the sin contrary to that faith where
with he ia endowed. Moses and Aaron believed not God to sanctify him.
Num. XX. 12. Moaes his unbelief was great, in striking the rock twice when
he should have but spoken to it ; , yet God was so gracious as not to deny
that effect to his unbelief which he had assured to his faith ; he stopped not
the influence of his power, though Mosea had weakened the hand of his
faith ; ' he caused waters to gush out of the rock abundantly,' ver. 11.
When this hath put forth itself in act, God hath been so indulgent aa to
repeat hia promise for the strengthening of a fainting faith. When Abraham,
after a twofold promise, Gen. xii. 2, xiii. 16, began to question God's truth,
because he did not yet see the seed promised him, and his years increased.
Gen. XV. 3, ' What wilt thou give me, seeing I go chUdless ? ' a* querulous
speech, discovering an act of infidelity immediately after a third gracious
promise from God, ver. 2, 'Fear not, Abraham, I am thy shield, and thy
exceeding great reward.' To this his answer seems to be, What reward wilt
thou give me, seeing I go chUdless, and the Saviour of the world is not like
to come out of my loins, since I have not that aeed promised so long since ?
God doth not chide him for thia ao severe a charge, but graciously renews
his promise and strengthens his faith, vers. 3-6, ' He that shall come forth
out of thy own bowels shall be thy heir ; and thy seed shall be as the num
ber of the stars.' And when after this no seed came ao suddenly as he
expected, he listens to Sarah's counsel and goes in to Hagar, Gen. sn. 4, as
if he was resolved to wait upon the promise no longer ; yet God is so far
from stripping him of that glorious title of father of the faithful, that he
condescends to shore up his faith by a new promise. Gen. xrii. 1, 2, &c. ;
and the more to strengthen his drooping faith, changeth his name Abram into
Abraham,* which signifiea a father of my people, that he might remember the
promise every time he should think of his name. It was given him after his dis
trust of the former promises in the business of Hagar. David takes notice of the
indulgence of God to him in this case, when his diffidence of God hath hurried
him so far as positively to assert that he was 'cut off from before the eyes of
God,' Ps. xxxi. 32, that God had no more kindness for him, or remembrance of
hia own promise, ' yet nevertheless thou heardest the voice of my supplications.'
Though he had had ao many promiaea from God of a kingdom, yet he said
in his haste all men were liars, Samuel too, and in that reflected upon God,
whose errand Samuel delivered. Some of those weapons brandished against
me wUl one time or other reach me, and little hold is to be taken of the words
of the prophets, whioh are but a pack of lies ; yet as long as he left not pray
ing, God left not answering. Scarce a gracious answer a good man hath but
he may put a nevertheless to it, becauae of that distrust of God which is

284 ohaenock's woeks. [John XVI. 9.
mixed with hia petitions. When by a partial unbelief, starting from us, we
question his truth, bespot his wisdom, forget his kindness, have low thoughts
of his sufficiency ; yet all the aggravations in this sinful act (if there be a
true faith, as a gram of mustard seed), silence not the voice of hia bowels,
dam not up the torrent of his love, he will take occasion from thence to
magnify his grace. When Peter seemed to have had his little faith covered
with the rubbish of his unbelief, and the faith of the diaciples aeemed to be
dead and buried, with the apprehenaion of Chriat by the Jewiah officers, he
was then going to pay thefr debts, redeem their souls, bind up thefr bones,
and make an everlasting peace between God and them. And when Thomas
peraiated stiU in hia infidelity of the resurrection of Christ, he doth not only
shew himself to him with particular evidences of the reality of hia resurrec
tion in the marks of hia hands and feet; but inspires him with a particular
sentiment of his Deity, which no man before did so explicitly acknowledge:
John XX. 28, ' My Lord, and my God.' Not that unbelief ia a motive to
Christ to do ao, hut he will take occasion from it to make his grace triumph
over the worst of ains. Since the nature of thia ain ia full of so horrid a
malignity, it makea the condeacensions and indulgence of God appear more
admirable. 2. Information. Here is a high encouragement to faith and acceptance
of Christ. We cannot sin worse by coming to him than by not believing in
him. How many stave themselves off from an acceptance of God'a offers
by a aense of their own unworthiness ! Suppose it were an offence to
approach to him with a humbled unworthiness, can there be that blackness
in it aa there is in dravring back from him ? We do not then fling dirt in
the face of those attributes which were illustrious in the work of redemp
tion ; we do not then blemish hia truth, and repreaent him as one that hath
no care of his royal word ; we debase not the credit of hia promiae, nor do
we cast any aspersion upon his wisdom, or go about to frustrate the design
of hia contrivance, nor do we vilify his grace, or spurn at hia beating heart,
nor count the unsearchable riches of hia mercy as loathsome dung. Nor do
we disparage the power of God, aa if he could not be aa great and as good
as his word ; nor do we declare that we can shift well enough vrithout him,
neither do we strike at his sovereignty in contradicting hia fixed will and
royal law of faith, nor do we rob him of hia delight; nor do we pierce our
Saviour afreah, nor vihfy the price he paid for our redemption ; we deny not
his love, his wisdom, his excellency, sufficiency, or reward ; we cast no dirt
in the face of the contriver and executor of redemption. But aU this we do
in aa gross a manner as if we should verbally disown him, if we beheve not.
Nor can our ains be diminished one article in their guilt by keeping from
him. Can we pay the debt out of our small revenue ? A farthing a year
cannot pay the interest of a thousand pound, much leas the principal. Doth
God command us to believe in Christ ? Why should we disobey our God,
add a greater weight to our load ? Have we not sinned againat justice,
wisdom, common proridence ? Shall we draw the black colours of unbeUef
over all the rest, and despise all his attributes in a higher manner by refus
ing the blood of hia Son, which hia love offers ua ? Can we lessen our sins
by turning our backs upon his bowela, and have the fruit of the death of
Christ by endeavouring to disappoint him of the end of it ? Is it not, then,
an encouragement to na to come over to Chriat by faith, aince in doing it we
come out of the territoriea of the most malignant sin, and the most desperate
enemy of God, and pay the honour which is due to hia glorious perfections
frora every creature ?
3. How unworthy is the carriage of every unbeliever ! He is digging at

John XVI. 9.] unbelief the gbeatest sin. 285
the very foundation of the throne of grace. The delights of Christ were
among the sons of men, yet naturally we run from him as if it were a death
to be with him, as if he were our greatest enemy. We cannot pull God out
of heaven, we cannot nail Christ again to the cross, we cannot pierce his
heart with a spear, we cannot revUe him to hia face aa the Jews did ; but
slighting the purchase of his death, despising the conditions upon which it
is to be enjoyed, disowning his authority granted by heaven over us, ia the
only thing, and it ia too much, that we do against him. Thia every unbe
hever doth ; he despoils him, aa much as in him lies, of his reward ; frus
trates the design of his suffering, the expiation of sin, the propagation and
observation of his evangelical law. He that disowns and would destroy the
dearest thing Christ hath left in the world, that which he gave the greatest
charge for the preservation of, would act all the villaniea againat his peraon
were he again in the world. He doth as much as the devil himself can do.
All that he oan do is to trample upon his law, increase the unbelief of men
in the world. He can do no more, and every unbeliever doth as much :
' The lusta of your father you will do,' John vui. 44.
The dignity of Christ's person greatena the enormity of unbelief, because
' he hath not believed in the name of the only begotten Son of God,' John
iii. 18. It outrageth not a man, nor an angel, but the only Son of God, in
the truth of his word, the majesty of his peraon, the greatness of his under
taking, and the kindness of his sufferings.* God hath but one Son, and
him it deapiaeth, and in his person contemna the Father. It is no less thah
marriage to his Son that he propounds when he offera Christ ; and who wou'd
not contemnf the carriage of a beggar, that ahould refuse being a prince's
spouse ? This is to refuse the imitation of angels who worship him, for the
imitation of devils who hate him.
Now the carriage of unbelief to God in Christ is,
1. Irrational.
2. Ingrateful.
3. Inexcusable.
4. Miserable.
1. Irrational. (1.) In those that own not the gospel as a revelation of
God, which many of the heathen philosophers regarded as a piece of folly,
' to the Greeks foolishness,' 1 Cor. i. 23 ; they could not imagine a crucified
God, or so little affection in God to an only Son, as to let him be put to
death, and an infamous death too. But, alas ! they had more unreasonable
notions of their gods than this could possibly appear to be. It is true, their
notions are exploded out of the world, but we may thereby see how unrea
sonable men are in the rejecting the gospel upon any principlea whatsoever.
They talk of their adulterous gods, their cheating Mercuries, hectoring Marses,
and lustful Venuses, and of gods wounded in battles. Is not a dying God
for the ends of virtue, more reasonable than an adulterous god for the ends
of vice ? Is not a God pierced for the happiness of mankind, and preserva
tion of human nature, more reasonable than a god wounded in skirmishes ?
Is it not aa reasonable to be believed that God should become man, as a
man become a god ? which was a notion frequent among them in their
deifying men ; but none now have such gross conceits of the divine Majesty.
But as some scarce own the being of a God, so they quite disown the design
and reasonableness of the gospel, which ia as ancient as the world vrithin a
few hours, transmitted from, one age to another by a succession of promisea,
frequency of propheciea, all centring in, and receiving their accomplishment
in Christ. So that if any will receive the ancient testimonies of the pro-
* Daille in loc. t Qu. ' condemn ' ? — Ed.

283 chabnock's woeks. [John XVI. 9.
phets, which no reasonable man can deny, there being more clear eridence
of the antiquity of the books of the Old Testament, than for any writing
whatsoever, owned by the heathena to have something divine in it, and pre
served by the Jews' enemies, or that which they represented, and represented
BO clearly, that whosoever shall read of a Messiah to be cut off after sixty-
two weeks, Dan. ix. 26, from the building of the temple, and that to make
an end of sin, to make reconciliation for iniquity, to bring in everlasting
righteouaness, to put an end to any prophecy of the Messiah, the Jews not
being able to shew one prophet since the crucifying of Christ ; whosoever
ahall read the 53d of laaiah, of the tender plant without comeUness,
despised and rejected of men, acquainted with grief carrying our sorrows,
bearing iniquity, oppressed and not opening his mouth, making his grave with
the wicked, and the rich in his death, making his soul an offering for sin, and
after having a portion divided with the great, because he poured out his
soul to death ; whoever shall read the prophecy of one pierced, one born
in Bethlehem, ' whose goings out were from everlasting,' Micah v. 2, and
afterwards conaider the atory of our Saviour' a life and death, cannot rea-
Bonably deny that this ia the very peraon deacribed in the prophecy.* Who
soever ahall consider the propheciea of the destruction of the city of
Jerusalem, and the sanctuary, with a flood of desolation, Dan. ix. 26, after
the cutting off the Messiah, and see that people now without a king, without
a prince, or high priest, an image, an ephod, without a sacrifice, Hosea iii. 4,
more years than ever both their temples atood, must reasonably conclude it
a fruit of their own wish, that the blood of him whom they would not own
as their Messiah, might be upon them and upon thefr children, Mat. xxvii. 25.
One great reason men do not believe the gospel, or believe in Christ, is
because they are unacquainted with the prophetic part of Scripture. Bux
torf, in his Synagoga Judaica, conjectures this is a great reason of the Jews'
obstinacy, they are so intent upon the law that they scarce mind the pro
phets ; and Christ himself, in his rebuke of his disciples, intimates this, ' 0
fools, and slow of heart to believe all which the prophets have spoken !'
Luke xxiv. 25. To deny a gospel that hath been propagated with a glorious
success, confirmed by a train of miracles, acknowledged in the writings of
tbe heathens who lived in the primitive times, witnessed by the blood of
martyrs, and those of the wiser and leameder sort, who could not aU surely
be a parcel of melancholy foola ! And shall this have no better a reception,
than if it were a mere romance, and an impertinent fable ? Common reflec
tions upon ourselves after thia revelation, will lead ua to think some divine
stamp upon it. It is obvious to a considering rationalist, that man is not
upon a right basis, that he is strangely amiaa, that it is inconaistent with
tbe goodness and holinesa of God, to let man come in such a posture at
first out of hia hands. He seea how little he can determine anything with
certainty in his understanding, that he hath not that affection to God which
nature wUl teach him he ought to have, that he doth not glorify God as his
own reason will inform him he ought to do ; he must conclude, that if ever
divine goodness hath designed and revealed a way for the restoration of man
to his aervice, the restoration of tbe world to the end of his glory, for which
it was created, he can find nothing that doth propose it, promise it, and
assure it, but the gospel. But let such that disown the gospel consider (and
though perhaps there are none here that opinionatively are infidels, yet there
is no man but hath some motions sometimes ^against the authority of the
gospel, as well as atheistical thoughts against the being of a God, which
need sometimes some consideration to stop the tide) ; I say, let them consider,
* Sic ille manus, sic ora ferehat.

John XVI. 9.] unbelief the gbeatest sin. 287
that those things they prefer before the gospel, are not in their own account
of any great and durable worth ; they cannot attend any beyond the gate of
death ; some thing there is of concern in another world ; the opinions
they entertain have as httle ground of certainty, as anything else which the
gospel doth not declare. The best account of things, with the most likely
reaaon that ever waa extant, ia in the Scripture ; for there is nothing seema
to be wanting for the glory of God, and the duty and happiness of a creature.
And therefore it is but a reasonable propoaal that we ahould entertain that,
and conform our judgments and practices to it, till we meet with a better
account, that makea more for the divine honour and the creatures' welfare.
If any scheme more satisfactory for auch high and glorious ends can be pro
posed, it is fit it should be entertained. But till such a one be found out,
and have aa many, and aa manifeat confirmations as this hath had, it is reason
that till then this should have the pre-eminence. Who, that were under a
raging diseaae, would not use the best remedy he could find, tUl he met with
a better ? For as it is unreasonable for any man to deny that debt of obedi
ence he owes to God as Creator, so it is unreasonable to deny a rule to
guide him in the way of obedience to, and worship of, God, till he can find
one more rational in itself, more honourable for God, and more serviceable
to the creatures' interest. Is it not unreaaonable to require the same evi
dence in things of faith as in matters of nature ? Is it not unreasonable to
deny that which hath stronger arguments to back the authority of it, than
what can be drawn from aense and reason, for the proof of the being of any
thing in the world? Is it not unreasonable for us to follow our own
humours, fancies, purblind reason, groping for happiness in other things,
while we refuse the way that hath the clearest characters upon it of anything
in the world ? It were worth our knowledge what religion such men would
have, who will not believe the matter of the gospel ; a religion it is supposed
they would have, if they own the being of God ; for a religious worship is
a natural consequence from such an acknowledgment. The worship of the
heathens cannot but appear ridiculous ; there is not a man to be found,
unless among the more stupid sort of nations, that will apologise for that.
The Jewiah cannot, according to the rules of that religion, be practised ;
for they cannot sacrifice, aince they have no temple wherein to perform that
service. Beaides, sacrifices being practised in all nations, for the expiation
of ain, it cannot be auppoaed that the blood of any creature can make atone
ment for the sin of the soul, or outward purifications by water wash off the
impurities of an immaterial spfrit. The Mahometan is too sensual for any
rationalist to embrace. There is none then left but the Christian to be em
braced : the great command of that ia faith ; it forbida all thoae aina which
moral nature loathea, and unbelief besides. The rule of it ia the Scripture,
and whatsoever is not according to that, whatsoever worship or doctrine
men coin that is not according to that rule, is not religion, ia not worship,
it is no revelation of God.
(2.) No less irrational is it in those that own the gospel to be a divine
revelation for such high ends, and do not in heart and practice subscribe to
the goodness and methods of it. For men that hear the language of God,
pretend they believe the voice of the gospel to be the voice of God, that
Christ is the Son of God, that he shed his blood for a ransom for aouls ; yet
not to accept of this ransom, to shght the benefit of it ; not to conform to
one of those conditions upon which it is offered ; not leave a lust for Christ,
or forego a pleasure for him ; to believe no more than agrees with their
humour, interest, or fancy, — this is a most unworthy carriage to God, and
to a man's self, to pretend one thing, and do another ; to profess an acknow-

288 chabnock's woeks. [John XVI. 9.
lodgment of it in our understandings, and refuse a subscription to it with
our wills. It is a thousand times better for a man to atrip himaelf of the
name of a Chriatian, than to have a practical unbelief inconaiatent with the
truth of a Christian. With what face oan a man profeaa Christ to be his
Lord and master, and yet regard not any order he givea ? The heathens
will atand up in judgment againat auch a nation, for they wiU confide in their
idols, believe and conform to their oracles : ' All people will walk every one
in the name of his god,' Micah iv. 5 ; and ahall we deal worse with God
than heathens did with idols ? Shall we believe wicked men ? why else
do we make contracts and bargains ? Shall we believe the earth ? why else
do we sow ? ShaU we believe the winds and waves ? why else do we traffic ?
And is it not more reason to give credit to an infallible God ? It is a great
madness not to come up to the terma of that, which we confess is sealed by
the blood of Christ, confirmed by the power of miracles, proclaimed by the
apostles, admired by the angels, and confessed too by the devUs themselves
to be from God. What more unreaaonable than to profess that Christ was
appointed by God to remove our miseries, reheve onr wanta, purchase onr
happiness, expiate our sin, procure our peace, which we could not find a way
ourselves to obtain, had we been befriended by the wit of angels, yet not
comply with any one condition upon which he offera thoae transcendent
blesaings ? Profession of him without a sound faith in him, is like the
pharisees' garnishing the tombs of the propheta, whUe they hated the Re
deemer they prophesied of Gilded Bibles wUl not aerve the turn with
leaden hearts ; and is it not as unreasonable in an humble soul to doubt of
mercy ? Surely as unreasonable as in an impenitent sinner to presume upon
it. What hath God commended more than his mercy ? What pleaseth
him more than an humble confidence in it ? What offends him more than
for such an one to distrust it ? Have we not in Christ the greatest encourage
ments to faith and confidence, since he is so near us, of the same nature with
us, and came from heaven on purpose to ' take not the nature of angels, but
the seed of Abraham,' Heb. ii. 16, and felt the misery of our nature, Heb.
ii. 18, to the very end that he might have compassion on ns ; and hath offered
himself up as a sacrifice for oiir sins ? Shall not, then, that unbelief, that
kicks against those foundations of hope, and disparages that which hath
letters of commendation from heaven, be accounted an unreasonable thing ?
2. It is also ungrateful. What else is it, to fly in the face of that love,
which hath wrought out tbe way for us by blood ? To shght him that would
relieve us, wound him that would cure ua ; to live aa if redemption had never
been wrought, and disobey him for shewing love to us, ia an ungrateful
frenzy. When the Jewa preferred Barabbas before Christ, and Judas valued
thirty pieces of silver above him, was it not an ingratitude as weU as an in
dignity ? And is it not as great to value a soul-murdering lust above him,
to be aUured by a beastly pleasure to offend him, rather than by the heart-
blood of the Son of God to pleaae him ? How often do we see, when the
sun riseth to comfort the drooping earth, the earth sends out vapours and
mists, as if it scorned any assistance from that heavenly body, and would
strip it both of its life and influence, so necessary for the fruit it bears, and
the inhabitants it nourisheth ? Do not men send out the black vapours of
their enmity and unbelief, at the appearance of the Sun of righteousness, as
if they had a mind to choke in him aU sentiments of kindness to them ? Is
not this unworthy, to dishonour him that would honour us, smite him who
hath been wounded for ua, pierce the heart of him who hath bled for our
health ? For ' by his stripes we are healed,' Isa. hii. 5, aa if the cup he
had drunk for us were not bitter enough. What wounds he received, were

John XVI. 9.] unbelief the gbeatest sin. 289
for the satisfaction of God's justice, which was armed against him ; what
wounds our unthankful unbelief gives him, is to the disparagement of that
satisfaction. God did not stick to send his Son, but the world sticks at
receiving him. The world is lost in Adam ; by the blood of his Son he finds
them when they do not seek him, Isa. Ixv. 1 ; and the unthankful world wUl
not receive him when he offers himself to them, nor refuse it with a common
civility ; not so much as a No, 1 thank thee, in the case, which is common
among men upon refusal of an offered kindness.
3. It is inexcuaable. There ia no plea for it. The Jews had some plea
for theirs ; he that was clothed with infirmities, and had no outward form or
comeliness, nor any beauty and glory according to their expectations, might
better indeed be ' despised and rejected' of them, Isa. hh. 2, 3. What
plea can we have, since he hath shaken off his infirmities, ascended to heaven
in his majesty, hath propagated his gospel, and hath been honoured, one
time or other, in every part of the then known world ? They were under a
law of riddles, could not well tell the meaning of the types that represented
him ; nor were the things the prophets spake clear to themselves, 1 Peter
1, 10, 11, much less to the people. The curtains now are opened, the veil
removed, the dusky cloud hath ended in a clear day ; yet the ancient Israel
ites and patriarchs had many of them so much faith as will render our un
belief without any ground of apology. If those that lived under shadows
and the star-light of ceremonies had so much sight, and so much faith, as is
reckoned, Heb. xi., and proposed to us for an example and encouragement
to run our race, and ' lay aside that sin of unbelief, which doth so easily
beset us,' Heb. xii. 1, what plea can we have for our unbelief, since the Sun
of righteousness hath scattered the shadows of the night, cleared up the face
of the heavens, accomplished what they believed and wished for, destroyed
him that had the power of death, rooted up the foundation of the devil's
empire, and 'brought life and immortality to light through the gospel' ?
2 Tim. i. 10. Their faith under shadows will render our unbelief under
subatance inexcusable.
4. How great will be the miaery of unbelievers I The greatness of the
misery will be proportionable to the greatness of the sin ; it is a sin both
against the law and against the gospel. By the law, we are bound to believe
God, and whatsoever revelation he makea ; we are bound to truat him, as he
is a God of truth : by the gospel, we are bound to believe that Christ came
into the world to lay down hia life as a ransom. If the breach of the law
makes us eternaUy miserable, the rejecting the gospel makes the wound the
deeper, and the smart the sharper. No man refuseth the remedy, but he
sharpens his wound. If the sins of men, who have no knowledge of the
gospel, condemn, how much more shall the sins of those, who sin both
against law and goapel, have a severer recompense of reward for neglecting
salvation, and so great salvation ? Heb.. ii. 2, 3, ' How shaU we escape, if
we neglect so great salvation, which at the first was spoken by the Lord ?'
Refusing the covenant of grace, he puts himself upon the trial by a covenant
of works ; and what hope an exact law often transgressed can give a male
factor, ia easy to imagine. MiUions have perished by it, none can be secure
in it : ' There remains no more sacrifice for sin,' if this be slighted, Heb.
X. 26. They are not in ao good a state as they had been if Christ had never
died, but worse, for they have his blood to answer for, as well as sins against
the natural and written law, and render themselves utterly unworthy of that
grace they disparage. Because of this, the Jews were broken off ; the re
fusing this corner-stone was the cause their foundations were tore up, and
VOL. IV. ^

290 chabnock's woeks. [John XVI. 9.
they hurled down, from being a people, to become the reproach of the world.
Though God punished them for their sinful idolatries, yet he never rejected
them till they rejected his Son, and then ' wrath came upon them to tbe
uttermost,' 1 Thes. h. 16 ; and our unbelief comes not short of theira, but
exceeds it. If we deny Christ, it is just he should deny us, Mat. x. 33. It
is an equitable law to have the same measure meted to us that we mete to
others. If unbelief oppose God, no wonder God wiU oppose and punish
unbelief No man can imagine but that God will be sensible of the wrong
done to his bleeding Son, and our dying Redeemer. How can he be regard
less of tbe contempt of hia glorious nature, and let a final indignity to his
majesty pass with impunity ? An indictment will be brought against such
by every abused attribute of God ; all will condemn them, since all have
been condemned by them ; not one will appear as an advocate for them.
Holiness must hate him that is filthy, and will not be otherwise ; truth will
be glorified in the execution of the gospel threatening, since the sinner would
blemish it in not resting upon the promise, and observing the precept ; jus
tice will punish such as will not accept of the satisfaction appointed to be
applied by faith ; wisdom will frame a hell for them that despised the great
masterpiece of it ; power will be glorious in keeping them for ever under that
punishment, and burning up the stubble that would rise up against it. As
there is a power to save, so there is a ' glorioua power' to destroy, 2 Thes.
i. 9. When wisdom, holiness, justice, grace, truth, shall not be owned, in
the glory of them, in Christ, they shall make themselves glorious upon him
to the cost of the unbeliever ; for God hath a sovereign right to the glory of
his attributes ; since the creature will not actively honour him, God wUl
make him passively to glorify the perfections disparaged by him. The blood
of Christ shed by this sin, in regard of an implicit approbation, cries with as
loud a voice to God for vengeance as Abel's blood did againat Cain, and to
as good purpose, for he that heard the voice of the one, will not be deaf to
the cry of the other. It speaka the language of mercy to him that receives
it, and the roaring of justice to him that refuses it.
2. Use of exhortation.
Let us be aenaible of the malignity in thia sin. It being a ain against the
gospel, we should be more sensible of it than of sina againat the law. Those
are transgressions againat a rule ; thia a tranagression against a rule and a
remedy. There is more reason we ahould be sensible of this, than if we had
abed the most innocent blood, ravished the chastest bed, or made an exphcit
compact or covenant with the devil ; these are sins mankind generally frown
at, and think such persona fit to be thrown out of the society of mankind. Yet
behold here an evil worse than all those singly or jointly considered in them
selvea. These are againat the sovereignty of God, but not as this, a trampling
upon the blood of his Son, infinitely above the most innocent creature.
Those against the authority of God, this against hia commanding authority
and hia condescending grace ; those against common sentiments of nature,
this against special revelations of a rich goodness. A murderer slays a man,
an unbeliever crucifies a God ; a thief robs a man of worldly goods, an un
believer strips a God of his greatest glory ; an adulterer defiles the bed of
his neighbour, an unbeliever defiles a soul which ia courted to be the spouse
of God. Besides, unbelief is the breeder and fomenter of such sins which
are committed by any under the light of the gospel.
1. Believers ought to be sensible of it. True faith is always attended with
a sense of unbelief, a weariness under it, a longing to be rid of it. The poor
man in the Gospel owned his faith, and yet confessed his unbelief with tears
in his eyes, Mark ix. 24. And are there not heaps of infidelity lie in our

John XVI. 9.] unbelief the gbeatest sin. 291
breasts ? Is not the power of God sometimes distrusted, his goodness un
regarded ? Ia Christ valued according to his transcendent worth ? Do wo
always reliah the excellency of the gospel ? Do we never value and love a
creature almost at the same rate we do the Creator and Redeemer ? Are
we not often more forgetful of God than we are of ourselves ? Is not the
word and oath of God too little sometimes to prop up a tottering faith ?
Are we not often more confident of men than we are of Christ, and bestow
more credit upon the promises of men than we do on the promises of God ?
Do we always pay as much respect to God as we do to ouraelves, as we do
to men that shall die ? How often do we find Christ complaining of the
littleness of his disciples' faith, and the slowness of their hearta to believe,
which were the only Chriatian church then in the world ? And are any of
us yet got beyond the merit of such rebukes ? Are there no scents of this
sin in the most cleansed vessels ? Have not the best here a partial un
belief ? And oan there be one grain of it in the heart, without a proportion
able sinfulness of it ? The least unbelief hath the sinful nature of unbelief,
aa well aa the least grain of poison hath the nature of poison. So much as
we want of a perfect faith, so much we strip God of the glory of his nature,
blemish his truth, asperse his wisdom, slight hia goodness, disgrace his suffi
ciency, snatch away hia delight ; so much as we want of a perfect faith, so
much we pierce the Redeemer, null the work of his mediation, undervalue
the price of redemption; so much we deny thoae choice affections which
engaged him in the undertaking and were illustrious in the execution, so
much we deny the excellency of his person and design, so much we grieve
him, so much we dishonour him. If all thia be clearly in a total unbelief,
it is aome degreea in a partial unbelief, and every act of it. And ought
this to be suffered in the heart without senae, shame, confusion, and deep
humiliations ? Let us pour out our tears for it, as we have poured out our
Saviour'a blood by it. The fat of a sacrifice, which waa a part without
sense, was to be consumed by fire ; so should we endeavour that our insen-
sibleness ahould be wholly burned up by the Spirit.
2. Those that are yet in a state of unbelief ought much more to be sen
sible of it ; that we may not deceive ourselves, and raise hopes contrary
to the word, to bless ourselves when God curseth. Without a sense of this
there is no meeting can be between Christ and us. It is as much a bar to
any gracious work in our soula, as it waa in the days of his flesh to many
mighty works in his own country. Mat. xiii. 58. Every man that sits under
the gospel is bound to believe the divine truths revealed therein ; he ia
bound to believe his infection by original sin, and that the euraea of the
law are due to him ; he is bound to believe that God hath sent his Son to
be crucified for the sins of men that believe in him ; that repentance and
turning from sin ia a neceasary duty ; he is bound to repent, forsake sin,
and with a contrite heart cast himself upon Chriat, expecting aalvation from
him, and reaolring sincerely to observe his commands, renounce his own
righteouaneaa, and rely upon his power ; and therefore ought to be aensible
of this obligation, and of that which is contrary to it and keeps him from
performing it. A sense of thia sin will lead the way to a sense of all the
rest ; this once quelled, the others expire ; the death of the mother viper is
the destruction of the young litter.
(1.) Christ was moat aenaible of this sin in others ; should not we, then,
be sensible of it in ourselves ? It waa a great part of hia sorrow that men
refused him, and would not accept of him, and salvation by him, Luke
xix. 42. It made him sigh more pathetically, and made him apeak as if he
were weary of all his pains : Luke ix. 41, ' 0 faithless generation, how

292 chabnock's wobks. [John XVI. 9.
long shall I be with you ? ' His anger was for the most part raised against
this, and this only ; and still it must, upon the same account, be more pain
ful to Christ than all the thorns which were upon his head, and wound him
more deeply than the nails did hia hands and feet. Should we not, then,
write after our Master's copy ?
(2.) It is a sin easy to be slipped into by a behever. Man is bom with
jealousies of God, which cause a distance, and render our particular closing
with him more difficult. Sin in the nature makes ua suspect every approach
of God to be for our hurt : Luke v. 8, ' Depart from me, for I am a sinful
man.' The best have not been free from unbeliering starts against God.
David had a desperate reflection on God : 1 Sam. xxrii. 1, that he should
' one day perish by the hands of Saul.' Though God had aaaured him of
the possession of the kingdom, and daily experiences of God's proridence
in his preservation under the pursuits and armies of Saul might have con
firmed him, yet he feared that some of the atones fiung at him might reach
him, and make him uncapable of the designed royalty. Asaph, too, in
regard of his spiritual condition, questions the mercy and faithfulness of
God : Ps. Ixxvii. 3-8, ' Is his mercy clean gone for ever ; doth his promise
fail for evermore ? ' The interrogation is at least a questioning of it, be
cause, ver. 10, he acknowledgeth it to be his infirmity, which he would not
have entitled his subaciption to the eternal mercy of God, and the truth of
his promiae. We ahould therefore be aensible of that unbelief which yet
remaina in our natures, that we may be preserved against the encroachments
of it.(3.) No man can labour for faith till he be affected with the sinfulness of
unbelief. The sense of this is the first step to faith. We cannot have a
sight of the amiableness of a moral vfrtue, till we are sensible of the de
formity of the vice which stands in opposition to it. A conviction of the
sinfulness and misery of unbelief will make us endeavour after the grace and
happiness of faith.
(4.) Nor can any reformation secure us while we remain insensible of the
evil of this. Conviction of other sins leaveth a man iu his natural state as
it found him. All men that are not sensible of this, though conrinced of all
their other guilt, are in a state of sin. It ia the work of the Spirit to con
vince men of it if they do not believe. Reformation takes away the ill savour
of our lives, which made us stink above ground ; yet the life may be re
formed, and the state not changed, but be as deplorable as before. Though
atheism and profaneness may be left, yet a man by that ia no more a mem
ber of Christ, and of the family of God, without faith, than he was when he
was besmeared with his grossest vices ; no more than the moral Jews were,
to whom Christ denounceth a dying in thefr sins because of their unbehef,
John viu. 21. The guilt of all former sins cleaves to the soul under a new
life, till upon faith in the blood of Christ it be wiped off. We are stiU in
God's debt-book, without one farthing of our score crossed out; for God
must have his satisfaction, either from Christ or ouraelves. He hath none
from Christ for us while we remain in unbelief ; it is not apphed to ua or
pleaded for us ; no remedy for this disease but in the blood of Christ, and
no way of having that blood sprinkled upon us but by faith. Reformations
garnish our Uvea, but the aoul remains still unsanctified if unbelief reigns.
That clears the outward rubbish, but doth not cleanse the inward sink. No
true sanctification without Christ ; for ' in him we are sanctified,' 1 Cor. i. 2.
Faith only is the band that unites us to him, whereby we get cleansing -rirtue
from him. As faith only engrafts us into Christ, so unbelief alone keeps us
off from that bottom ; as by this engrafting our actions become good, so

John XVI. 9.] unbelief the gbeatest sin. 293
without it our beat actions are bad. An ignorant heathen may as well pleas©
God as a painted unbeliever, Heb. xi. 6 ; this ain makes us utterly incapable
to please God. The world is apt to lie under this error; because they have
amiable qualities in the eye of man, they think they have no spot in the eye
of God ; but, alas ! this doth render us more deformed in the eye of God,
than aU outward reformations can render us beautiful.
2. As we ought to be sensible of it, so we should watch against it. This
is a lesson for believers. It is easy to distrust God ; our own hearts have
dealt treacherously with him, and therefore we think he will requite us in
our own kind. Let us watch againat the first motions of it, because
the devil by them endeavours to draw ua to it. Aa all good works spring
from faith, so all evil works from a defect in it. If there be a disturbance
in the heart, other members cannot well do their office. Habitual faith
lays the first stone of a heart sanctification — ' their hearts purified by faith,'
Acts XV. 9 — and every act of faith raiseth it higher. So much of unbelief,
so much of impurity ; watch therefore against everything that may weaken
the foundation of your sanctification. Unbelief only makes us sink under
a temptation. Jacob wrestled with an angel, or with the Son of God ; yet
atill kept up his faith in God's promise against the fear of his brother, and
became a conqueror. Gen. xxxii. 24, &c. ; Hosea xii. 4. Jacob's fight was
a corporeal conflict,* because his thigh did shrink with his wrestling ; but
it was also a fight of faith. Why else ahould the angel so value a corporeal
wrestling, as to give him a new name thereupon, and call him Israel, because
he had prevailed vrith God ? Besides, who can think a poor mortal could
overcome an angel with an assumed body in a corporeal wrestling ? It waa
an internal conflict of the spirit of Jacob with God, and the external wrestling
was only a symbol of the inward conteat. As he wrestled against a man by
the strength of the body, so he wrestled against distrust by the strength of
his spirit. For Jacob hearing of his brother Eaau's march againat him, and
remembering his cruel threatening upon his forestalling the blessing, he was
afraid of the ruin of himself and family, and consequently that the promised
seed should be extinguished; and therefore wrestles with God upon the
account of his promise, desiring him to defend his family from Esau's fury.
Unbelief sinks us under devils, faith makes us wrestle with God. In case
of any fall into sin, watch against thia master sin.f Though our fall calls
for sorrow, it calls not for unbehef. To throw off an humble faith, is to
gratify the author of sin, the devil, by despair and unbehef, but doth not
please him that wrought the redemption ; this is to heap a mountain of sin
upon the former. If a man sin, it is not said presently we have a devil to
deatroy, but an advocate with the Father, who is the propitiation for our
sina, 1 John ii. 1. Watch therefore against every stirring of it upon all
occasions; and the more aince you have found how gracious Christ hath
been, and that your former unbelief could not dispute away his grace, and
send it back to heaven from whence it came. Let not a distrustful heart
have more credit with you than a Sariour's promise. And that we may
watch against it, let us think meanly of ourselves. He that esteems himself
something, will quickly esteem Christ aa nothing. Regard the things of
the gospel as the moat substantial thinga, of the greatest moment. Let the
word dweU more richly in us than the notions of nature. Meditate often on
it ; rest not upon the knowledge we have by education, consider things in
their reasons, not by interest or affection, without Scripture reason ; work
such arguments upon the mind as may strengthen the assent to the word ;
weak consents of will spring from imperfect assents in the understanding.
* Zanch. in Hos. xii. 4, p, 185. t Tho. Goodw. MSS.

294 chabnock's wobks. [John XVI. 9.
The deeper truths are in our understandings by an explicit, and formal, and
renewed assent, the warmer and stronger will they be in our affectiona and
will ; every wind or riolent storm will blow down a house that is weak in its
foundation. There is an ' assurance of understanding' precedes the ' acknow
ledgment of the mystery ofthe gospel,' Col. ii. 2. The fuller the aaaurance of
underatanding, the closer the affiance of the wUl ; a floating cork cannot be
stable. Be well acquainted with the nature, terms, and richea ofthe covenant
of grace, the mediation of Christ, hia offices, the ends and fruits of hia death.
This is the^way to watch againat unbelief, ao great a sin. This ia necessary.
As Christ will do no more mfracles without faith, so the devil can do no mis
chief without unbelief The more of faith, the closer our union, and the
fuller our communications.
3. Let such as are in a state of unbelief endeavour to come out of it. We
shall then lay by the most offensive sin, the object of God's greatest hatred,
the dishonour of hia attributes, the main prop of the devil's empire. We
shall not till then please him ; nor will he sheathe his aword, nor open his
bowels. We then approve of the counsel of God, who is aa tender of the
honour of his Son as of his own ; for he will have ' all men honour the Son
aa they honour the Father,' John v. 23. It vrill be the beat return we can
make to Heaven for tbe mesaage of joy heaven hath sent to us in the gospel.
The success of the gospel in the heart doth cheer the heart of Christ in his
exaltation, as well as the news of it did in his humiliation : Luke x. 21, ' he
rejoiced in spfrit.' This is the way to add another throne for him to sit
upon (aa every believing heart is), instead of puUing him from what he had.
None but an unbeliever ia deapiaed by God ; no man but an unbeliever shaU
ever taste of his fury. Hath not God often by his Spirit entreated us to
consider what is for our peace ? Hath he not met us, and instead of offer
ing to kill us, as the Lord did to Moaea, he bath opened his heart, shewed
us the wounds of his Son, desired nothing of us but that we would believe
he had a design of kindness for us, and that we would give him such an enter
tainment as his affection doth deserve; that we would give credit to his
assertion, and walk according to it ? He complains only of your drawing
back from him ; he never quarrels with any man for sucking the breasts of
his goodness ; his only grief ia, that you will not come, that you might have
life. And can the spuming his grace be a means to our blessedness, or this
desperate sin instate us in the glory of heaven ? Shall the lions be ashamed
to tear Daniel, and an unbeliever not ashamed spiritually to tear his
Redeemer ? Shall the ox know his owner, and man not know his crucified
Saviour ? Shall the atones rend in pieces at hia death, and our hearts atand
unahaken at hia sufferings for ua ? Doth not God denounce a woe to them
that remember not the affiictiona of Joaeph? Can any less be expected by
those that increase the afflictiona of Christ, and kick against the greatest
design God had to honour himself ? Doth not our nature gasp for a feli
city ? Is it not the sole inquiry of man, ' Who wiU shew ua any good ? '
And when the goapel presents ua with the most satisfactory blessedness,
shall we resist it, and shut our eyes against the light that would conduct us
to bliss ? If we will dishonour God by unbelief, we shall rilify our hopes ;
were the gospel of no concernment to us, yet unbehef in regard of the Author
of it were a sin worthy of the sharpest reproof A belief of him we owe to
him as creatures ; but when it is of the greatest moment to our aouls to
believe the gospel, as that whereupon depends eternal happiness or misery,
shall any of us that acknowledge it to be of God, that hath been bred up in
the midst of its light, be so cruel to our aouls as to make hght of the condi
tions of it ? It is unreasonable, aa it dishonours our Creator, for whose glory

John XVI. 9.] unbelief the gbeatest sin. 295
we were made; as it disgraceth our Redeemer, by whose blood we are ran
somed ; uncharitable to ourselves, by murdering our souls, to which we owe
the greatest care. Or dare any persist in this way, and venture heaven and
blessedness upon a conceit that the gospel is not true ? What hurt can
there be in believing it ? An eternal mischief may be in refusing it. There
is no dishonour to God by believing it; we own one God by acknowledging
it ; we own whatsoever is comely and praiseworthy, by the rational sentiments
of mankind, in regard of the precepts. By caating it behind our backs, we
hazard ourselves if it may be true ; we deatroy ouraelves if it be absolutely
true. A resolution to persist in unbelief is such that no man in his wits
would ever think of
4. Let such as are got out of the sink of this sin, bless God and prize
their faith. God only dispersed that cloud of darkness which seized upon
you, and drew you out of that mire, hateful to Heaven, wherein your hearts
were soaked. What a gulf hath God delivered you from ! He might have
left you in that state, so reproachful to himself and so dreadful to you.
Prize your faith above all your treasures ; above all keeping, preserve and
strengthen it. Before you could not but displease him, now you may be a
pleasure to him ; before you warred with every perfection of his nature, now
you join issue with him in the exalting of them. By this you are interested
in the fruit of his glorious counsels, the blood and mediation of hia Son, the
glory of hia attributes. By this he snatcheth you from a league with hell,
sets you above the head of the captain of unbelievers, knits your hearts to
himself, and fits you to be monuments of his grace, to be placed with him
for ever in heaven.

A DISCOURSE OF THE MISERY OF
UNBELIEYERS.

He that believes on the Son hath everlasting life : and he that believes not the
Son shall not see life ; but the wrath of God abideth on him. — John
III. 86.
These words are a part of the discourse of John Baptist to his disciples,
which contains a summary of the gospel, and treats of the dignity of Christ's
person. The occasion of the discourse is a question atated between the dis
ciples of John Baptist and the Jews about purification : ver. 25, ' There
arose a question between some of John's disciples and the Jews about puri
fying ;' what the question was is not fully and plainly recorded. Some think
the ceremonial purifications appointed in the Mosaic law were the anbject of
the contest. But the next verse (ver. 26) intimates the question to be concern
ing the baptism of Christ and John Baptist, which of them was the most
efficacious for purification. Some preferred John's baptiam in regard of his
priority of time, he being firat sent to baptize, and in regard of Christ's re
ceiving baptism from his hands ; the other inight assert the baptism of
Christ to be as purifying as the other, becauae of the many miracles wrought
by him to confirm his mission, which seeing the Baptist wanted (for he
wrought no mfracles, John x. 41), John's disciples being jealous of thefr
Master's glory, and troubled at the lessening his authority, in the heat of
their contest address themselves to John to be an arbitrator in this affair, as
being best able to judge of that for which he was commissioned : ver. 26,
' And they came unto John and said unto him. Rabbi, he that was with thee
beyond Jordan, to whom thou barest witness, behold the same baptizeth,
and all men come to him.' The contest, it seems, had engendered in thefr
hearts an envy against Christ, because of the multitude of his followers above
what their master had, who, they saw, was decreasing upon the other's rising,
as the hght of the stars is obscured by the appearance of the aun. They
frame their relation to John with a contempt of Christ and a charge against
him, as if they intended to incense their master againat our Saviour. The
contempt ia in the title they give him. When they apeak of thefr master, it
is Babbi ; when they apeak of Christ, it ia he that was with thee beyond Jordan,
not vouchsafing to name him. How apt is man by nature to have low
and mean thoughts of Chriat in his heart ! The charge here ia double :

John III. 36.] the miseey of unbelievebs. 297
1. Usurpation. He haptizeth, he invades thy office, and takes upon him
that function which belongs properly to thee, and after he seemed to enter
himaelf thy disciple, hy receiving baptiam at thy hands, now is ambitious of
an equal authority with thee, without a caU or any order from thee, and hap
tizeth in his own name.
2. Ingratitude. He to whom thou barest witness, and by that eulogy gaveet
him an authority among the people who relied upon thy wtfrd. Now he
endeavours to obscure thy glory, and hath forgot the obligation he had to
thee by giving him so worthy a character. They thought John's commen
dation of Christ arose from his humility, and not from a knowledge of the
excellency of his person. And they urge it with the success of Christ, ' all
men come to him.' He makes so great a progress that he vrill draw from
thee all thy disciples, and diminish that honour thou hast gained among the
people. By this means they endeavoured to inflame the Baptist against our
Saviour, and cause him to change his note, and give such a character of him
as might lessen his growing reputation ; but they found their expectation
defeated by the modest answer John returns to them*
Observe, 1. How do pride and paasion often sway in the heajts of professors ! The
Baptist's disciples fear any disgrace of their master should redound upon
themselvea, and therefore endeavour to embroil him in contention. The
disciples of Christ were not free from the like taint, when they were angry
with one man's casting out devils, because he did not follow them, Luke
ix. 49. John by his humility rejoices at the appearance of Christ, ver. 29 ;
but his disciples' pride robs God of his present praise for sending the Mes
siah. We can never value any mercy of God while we value ourselvea too
much. What need have we to lay shackles upon the pride of nature, to
watch over our passions, and restrain them within due bounds, that they
may be serviceable to God and not to Satan ! Grace must be upon its
guard againat the deaigns of the old Adam in ua. The devU dfrected strong
engines against the Baptist in the hands of his diaciplea, enough to batter
him, without abundance of grace and an awakened exerciae of it.
2. How often have pride and envy been the springs of the church's cala
mities 1 These two have been the incendiaries of the church as well aa of
the world. Pride in Adam overturned the worahip of God in the world just
after the creation, and envy in Cain made the ffrst diviaion after the pro
mise, which led him to murder the holiest man, and afterwards drave him
out from the presence of God. How little did those poor diaciples think
that in this they imitated the fallen angel I He enried God a service from
man, and those envy Christ a glory from the creatures. How far will envy
proceed if God do not atop it ! Envy in Cain at the appearance of his bro
ther's sacriflce first broached his brother's blood.
3. How forward are men • to be drawn from Christ by an admiration of
the gifts and graces of the saints !* They admire here the servant above
the master. How long hath it been that the value aet upon the sainta
thrust almost out any estimations of the mediation of Christ ? Prayers to
the virgin are become more numerous than supplications to the Son of God.
4. How dangerous is contention about ungrounded opiniona ! Had not
John interpoaed, with what animosity against Christ had hia disciples' hearts
been fiUed upon this conteat ! The weeda would have grown strong, and
taken deeper rooting, without a spiritual prevention. What is John's answer
to this report ? Religious, humble, and modest : ver. 27, ' John answered
and said, A man can receive nothing, except it be given him from heaven.' He
* Chemnitius.

298 chabnock's woeks. [John III. 36.
ia not inflamed with any pride and passion, but ascribes to God the glory of
hia aovereignty, and to Chriat the dignity of his peraon. The words of
John may be formed into this argument :* Every one is to be honoured in
the place wherein God hath set him ; God hath placed him you complain of
in the higheat dignity ; you are therefore to count him for your Lord, and
me for his servant. Do not think that that person you charge doth invade
thia office without a call ; he could not have this success without the singular
providence of God ; you must regard the author and original ; things are
not in our own dispositions ; whatsoever bleaamg ia received, is diapensed by
a aovereign authority. Do not think, therefore, that I wiU arrogate that
honour to myself, which God never assigned me.
Observe, 1. God is the sovereign author of aU good to men : James i. 17, ' Every
good and every perfect gift is from above, and comes down from the Father
of lights.' All comes originally from him, whatsoever the channels of con
veyance are, as rivers from the sea, whatsoever veins of earth they are
strained through ; all our springa are in God. Reat not, then, upon any
thing below, though it be never so choice a mercy ; it is from above. Dart
your eyes upward to the spring ; what is not the source of our blessings,
should not, be the prop of our souls. Trust in other things hath a quite
contrary effect to trust in God ; the more we trust other things, the sooner
we lose them ; the more we trust God, the fuUer we enjoy him. God wiU
strip ns of the comfort we take in them, when we strip him of the glory due
to him. Praise God alone for any mercy ; it is not fit the creature should
run away with the praise of that which we enjoy at the cost of heaven.
What stock could any have, if God had not set them up? Fear not
man ; whatsoever is from above shall prosper. If God gives the gospel,
man cannot stop the progress of it. Heaven is able to maintain its own
grants. It wants no more a power to preserve it, than goodness to bestow it.
2. The suggestions of Satan, and our own corrupt hearts to pride and
en-vy, are to be bridled by the consideration of the sovereign disposal of
God. This is the intent of the Baptist's answer. How loose and shaking
would those lusta be in our hearta, if we were practically settled in thia truth,
that all dispensations are the fruit of the divine sovereignty ! In envying
man, we en-vy God the disposal of his own gifts ; we invade his propriety,
as if we had been God's partners ui his own possession ; we would bring
God down to our humours, and make our fancies the rule of divine actions.
We entrench upon his wisdom, aa though he were not wiae enough to dis
pose of hia own gooda ; as though he should have asked our counsel, before
he made a distribution of what is solely his own. It is a presumption to
prescribe laws to our lawgiver. It is contrary to hia goodness, as if we
would tie the hands of his universal goodneas, that it ahould run only into
our ciaterns. The consideration of the sovereignty and wisdom of God,
would hinder us from being envenomed by this fiery dart.
8. Every man ought to be content in the place where God has set him.
The will of our sovereign ought to be our rule ; we are not our own carvers ;
let us rather bleaa God for what we have, than murmur that we have no
more ; aince all are his gifts, he can better choose for us, than we for
ourselves. 4. How doth the wise God defeat tho deril, and extract the greatest good
from his worst intentions, and the ains of men ! The devil, by God's con
duct, doth us good against his will. Hia tempting those disciples is the
¦* lUyrio.

John III. 86.J the miseey of unbelievebs. 299
occasion of this excellent summary of the gospel, whioh we might have
wanted had the devil restrained his temptation. The passions of those dia
ciples are the occaaion to produce the fullest testimony out of the mouth
of John, of the dignity of Christ's person, the truth of his commission, fit
ness for his work, the necessity of address to him, the means of enjoying
the benefits purchased by him. Thua the deril tempted Christ to conquer
him, and God ordered it for fitting of our Saviour to relieve us with more
compassion, from an experimental sense of his subtilty and our misery.
Joseph's slavery in Egypt by hia brothers' sin is the preservation of the
church in Canaan ; and the crucifying the Son of God, the redemption of
the world. Why should we distrust God, who can use the sins of men to
clear up the way of salvation, both to ouraelves and others ?
After thia introduction, the Baptist more particularly instructs them : ver.
28, ' Ye yourselves bear me witneaa, that I aaid, I am not the Chriat, but
that I am sent before him,' and opposea to thefr ambitious emulation his
former testimony of Christ, and the doctrine they had heard from him,
acknowledging him the Messiah, and himself but the herald or harbinger to
prepare the way before him. I have often told you, aa weU aa others, that
I am not the Christ, intimating thereby that he it was whose glory was to
outshine that of all the former prophets, since he was the grand prophet
promiaed to the church. He retorta upon them their accusation of the in
gratitude of Christ to him : Since I have given him such a testimony, as you
well remember, that I did but baptize with water, but one coming after me
was to baptize with the Holy Ghoat ; it ia he you complain of ia the peraon
I meant ; it is he to whom God hath given tbe Spirit not by measure ; it is
he that is the Lamb of God, that takes away the sins of the world ; yon
cannot think I should be so foohsh, as to deny my words. If you had
respect for me, and good wUl to yourselves, you would have believed me and
believed in him, since it is necessary for you so to do.
Observe, How hard a matter is it to change the falae opinions we have erected ?
These disciples had entertained a notion that their master was the Messiah ;
they dreamt of an earthly advancement by him, though he had made declara
tions to them, and in their hearing, to a committee sent from the Sanhedrim,
that he was not the Christ, John i. 19, 20, yet that sentiment atuck in their
heada. Pride makea men foster opinions against the glory of God, when
they seem to conduce to their own interest ; we are loath to submit our
reasons to the wisdom of God. Man ia a creature naturally apt to hold fast
anything but divine truth. Bran will remain in the sieve, when the fineat
flour will drop through. The disciples of Christ would not part with the
sweet thoughts of an earthly grandeur under their Master, though he had
so often given notices of hia violent death. Let us examine everything well
hy the word, before we lodge it aa a notion in our heads, and measure every
propoaal by the respect it bears to the glory of God, aa weU as to our own
advantage. He proceeds further to shew the difference between Christ and himself :
ver. 29, ' He that hath the bride ia the bridegroom, but the friend of the
bridegroom, whioh stands and hears him, rejoiceth greatly because of the
bridegroom's voice ; this my joy therefore is fulfilled ;' as much as there was
between a bridegroom, for whom the spouse is adorned and prepared, and a
friend whioh served him in that occasion, who rejoiceth that he hath con
tributed to the satisfaction of his friend. I have prepared the people aa a
spouae for him ; it ia to him therefore they are to have recourse, him they
are to love and honour ; and it is my joy that I have rendered him any

300 chabnock's woeks. [John III. 36.
service, according to the commission I received from heaven :* intimating
thereby, that they should foUow his example, and be so far from envying
the glory of Christ, which they imagined to be the obscurity of hia, that
they should rejoice, as he did, in hearing the bridegroom's voice. Some
understand it of the marriage between the divine and the human nature of
Christ ; the divine being the bridegroom, the human tbe bride, which the
divine nature assumed into union with itself Most understand it of the
marriage of Christ with the church, which was promised.
Observe,1. Some eridence of the deity of Christ. He is the bridegroom that
espouaeth the church to himaelf. A thing promised by God to be done
only by himself, Hosea u. 16, xix. 20 ; it is Jehovah, the Lord, aaith, ' I
will betroth thee unto me for ever,' Jer. iii 14. The Scripture often com
pares the union of the church with God to that of a marriage, and never
gives the name and quality of the spouse of the church, to any but the true
God.f 2. The end of Christ'a coming into the world. To form a church, to
make a spiritual marriage between himaelf and the aouls of men. The
church was not fit for hia embraces, being defiled, polluted, of a corrupt ex
traction ; but Chriat takea flesh, makes himself a sacrifice for her, pours out
his own blood to wash her, and render her fit to lie in his bosom, Eph. v.
25-27. What love is this, to bring filthy man into a perpetual band of
love with him ! He bore our ains that defiled us, he is sensible of onr
afflictions that trouble us, he communicates his goods to enrich us, he took
our nature that he might communicate his own, he is become one nature
with us, that we might become one spirit with him. Never did loving hus
band do so much for his spouse as Chriat for his church. How should we
love, honour, serve, and adhere to so good a Saviour, and pay him that
reverence and faith which is due to him !
3. Ministers are and ought to be the servants of Chriat, to woo for him,
to persuade men to be espoused to him, by declaring their misery without
him, their happiness with him, his wUlingneaa to entertain them. They are
inatrumenta to bring them to Chriat, and after they are brought, to persuade
them to keep the conjugal covenant vrith Chriat. Thia ought to be our
higheat desire, and our chiefeat joy; ' Thia my joy ia fulfilled,' aaith John,
since I have now attained the end of my embaaay.
He then comes to make this conclusion, quite contrary to the intention of
his disciples, and reaolves to exerciae hia humility where they would have
excited hia pride : ver. 30, ' He must increase, but I must decrease.' He
must grow up in authority ; the opinion that I am the Messiah must faU,
that he may be owned to be the only person of God's designation. The
person of Christ could not receive an increase, being infinitely great and
glorious. Nor was there any diminution of the dignity of the Baptist, who
lost nothing, but gained much by the appearance of our Saviour ; his glory
increased with his humility, and his honour of being the forerunner of Christ
remained, though his office expired ; but the increase and diminution was in
regard of the exercise of their officea, the moon ia to rule the night, and the
snn the day, and in the opinion of the people, who ran after John as fhe
Messiah, who must learn that the honour of that office only belonged to
Jeaua. f John decreased, as the stars may be said to do when they are
obscured by the sun ; not that their native light is taken away from them by
the presence of the sun, and they hghted up again as a candle when the sun
sets ; but because men need not the hght and dfreotion of the stars in the
* Amyraut. in loo. t Daille in loo. i Daillfe in loc. p. 450.

John IH. 36.] the miseey of unbelievebs. 301
midst of the sunbeams.* Christ then increaseth in our hearts, when our
knowledge of him, affection to him, and valuations of his person, rise to a
taller stature in onr spirits.
Observe,1. AU.the glory, greatness, and righteousness of men, ought to veU to the
glory and honour of Christ. We should become nothing for Christ's honour,
as Christ became a worm for our benefit. The Baptist was wiUing to be
obscured, that Christ might fill the world with a spiritual and dirine glory.
It is observable, that a little after this John was cast into prison by the pro
vidence of God, when his authority did clash with the authority and glory
of Christ in the esteem of the people ; that the Baptist's disciples, being
deprived of thefr master, might fly to the Messiah, whose messenger their
master was. It is a comfort in the afflictions of God's servants, that they
make to the glory of Christ, as well as the benefit of their souls. What
Herod and Herodias did, out of enmity to John, God ordered for increasing
the authority and glory of the Messiah. Let us never value anything as a
comfort that is a rival with our Saviour.
The reasons why he must increase he delivers from ver. 31, all which he
lays down also as grounds of faith to build that conclusion on, which he
makes in the text, and contains the marrow of the gospel.
1. In regard ofthe difference of thefr originals, ver. 31.
2. In regard of the manner of the communications of their doctrine,
ver. 32.
3. In regard of the authority of hia mission, ver. 34.
4. In regard of his excellent fitness, ver. 34, 35.
5. In regard of the special relation between the Father and the Son, and
the special affection of the Father to him, ver. 85.
6. In regard of the full power given him over all things.
1. In regard of the difference of their originals : ver. 31, ' He that comes
from above, is above all ; he that speaks of the earth ia earthly, and apeaks
of the earth.' He ia from above, heavenly in his original ; I am of the earth,
earthy, born according to the law of Adam, by natural generation. What I
speak, therefore, is mean in comparison of the declarations whioh ahall be
made by one of ao illuatrioua a descent.f Aa his original ia from above, ao
his authority is above all ; but I am merely of a human descent, and have
nothing in my nature but what is common to mankind. I have made no
other revelations than what other men have made by the influence of God
upon them ; but he of whom I speak is above all, in the dignity of his per
son, the exceUency of his office, the height and clearness of hia knowledge,
the purity of his graces, the extent of his authority. It is fit, therefore, that
I should decrease, that he should increase. Earthly things are to give place
to heavenly ; his being from above notes his divine original, as the other's
being of the earth notes his earthly original. It is not said, he was above,
but is above all. He lost nothing of the rights of his dignity, by assuming
our humanity ; he was above all in reahty, though a worm in appearance.
Observe, 1. The Deity of Christ is asserted, in regard of his original, ' he comes
from above ;' in regard of his dignity, ' he is above all; ' in regard of his
original, he is opposed to aU men, who are from the earth in regard of gene
ration. He was first in heaven before he was upon the earth ; he could not
come from above, if he were not first above. It is not therefore meant of
his miraculous conception only, made by the power of heaven, J and not from
any earthly cause ; because the flesh of Christ was never in heaven when
* lUyrio. t Amyraut. in loc. J Daille, in loo, pp, 453, 454.

802 chabnock's wobks. [John III. 86.
it was conceived by the Holy Ghost in the virgin's womb ; nor till after his
resurrection, when he ascended in hia human nature far above the heavens.
Though Adam waa formed immediately by the hand of God, yet it was never
said that Adam descended from heaven. But he is caUed earthy : 1 Cor.
XV. 47, ' The first man is of the earth earthy, the second man ia the Lord
from heaven.' If there had been nothing heavenly in Chriat but his con
ception, he might be called earthy as well as Adam. Nor can it be meant
only in regard of his gifts ; for the gifts of John Baptist and all the pro
phets were from above, from the Father of lights; yet he calls himself
earthly, he distinguisheth himself as he was by nature from what he was
by grace. John was from heaven in regard of his office, from earth in re
gard of his original ; but Christ was from heaven in regard of original as
well aa office. He comea from above, not by a change of place, for his
divine nature fiUs all things, but 'in regard of manifestation, discovering his
divinity, which before was manifest only in the heavens, aa God ia said to
descend from heaven, when he manifests himself in ways either of signal
mercy or justice. In regard of his dignity, he ia above all, above all crea
tures,* and therefore God. None but God can be above all, and have the
title of supremacy ; as much above all angels and men, aa the heaven, from
whence he came, is above the earth, to which he descended, for the mani
festation of himself in our fleah ; it could not be aaid of any angel, that he
was above all. If, therefore, Christ be above all, we must pay that reve
rence and veneration to him, that ia due to his deity and infinite supe
riority. He that ia above all muat have our affections and our services
above all things, according to the excellency of his person, and dignity of
his office.
2. The higheat aaints must be aensible of original corruption. The being
of the earth ia not only meant by John of hia human condition, but his cor
rupted condition, as he descended in away of ordinary generation from Adam.
Behold, here is one greater than the prophets. Mat. xi. 11, fhe immediate
harbinger of the Redeemer of the world, honoured with an employment above
any that went before him, to prepare the way before the Messiah ; a burning
and a shining lamp, one aanctified in the womb, rejoicing at the approach of
a Saviour before he saw the hght ; acknowledging the depravation ofhis na
ture, as he was the son of Adam, humbling himself under the consideration
of it. Was there ever any elevated aoul but complained of it ? David, in
the Old Teatament, of his being ' ahapen in iniquity,' Pa. li. 5 ; Paul, in the
Now, groaning under his ' body of death.' Were this more in our thoughts,
pride would not be ao fluah in our hearta and actiona.
John expresseth here hia humility, by considering himself aa earthly, which
includes the miseries that follow an earthly extraction, viz^. corruption, blind
ness, rebellion against God. -j- He doth not assert his baptism, and the
doctrine he preached, to be earthly. They were from heaven, and our
Saviour gives that testimony of him ; but he pronounceth what himself and
all men are in and by themselves, not what they are by the gift and grace
of God.
3. Where is perfection to be found ? When such a person aa John, the
greatest among those born of a woman, endued with such honour as to be
the herald of the King of glory, confesseth himself earthy, and speaking of
the earth, i. e. his words savouring and scenting of the corruption of his
nature, shall men of a leas stamp ever lay claim to that, which ao humble
and holy a person, one so charactered by Chriat, could not challenge ? If
such a hurning and shining light were not the possessor of a perfect state in
* Daille, in loc, p. 455. f Illyric. in loo.

John III. 36. J the miseey of unbelievebs. 603
this life, where is the man that is inferior to him in his other titles, that can
count himself superior to him in thia ?
4. The gospel and word of Christ ia worth credit. It is not the word of
a corrapted man, but of an heavenly offapring. Who ahall we hear, if heaven
can find no credit with us ? Are we fit to enjoy the happinesa of the place,
if we will not receive the precepts of it ? He ia from above, he is above all,
hia words cannot be false while heaven is true.
Reason 2. The manner of the knowledge of Christ, or the communication
of the doctrine to him : ver. 32, ' what he hath seen and heard, that he tes
tifies.' John was inspired, but our Saviour had not only heard but seen
what he testified ; and in this respect he is superior to all men. The pro
pheta saw tbe things upon earth, Christ hath seen them in heaven. They
saw them in streams, Christ in their fountain ; they saw the image of some
things, but Christ hath seen the eternal models of all. He was in the bosom
of the Father, and drew all that he knew from the depths of infinite wiadom.
Yet, though the thinga he speaks are so plain and clear, few receive his tes
timony. So great a person, so fully understanding the mysteriea of God,
cannot find a reception among men ; very few believed in him, like the glean
ings of a vintage after the gathering of the grapes.
Observe, 1. The fitness of Chriat for hia prophetical office. He hath seen thinga
in the bosom of the Father, heard things from the mouth of the Father, he
hath seen them, not by revelation, but as the Son of God ; was intereated in
the debates and results of the Trinity. He waa ' by the Father when the foun
dations of the world were laid,' and the course of all things ordered, Prov.
viii. 27-30 ; nothing ia unknown to him that is known to the Father. As he
only knowa him, so he only hath ability to declare him. The things which
Paul aaw were unutterable ; he wanted ability as weU as authority to declare
them, 2 Cor. xii. 4. Christ hath both ; he hath seen and heard, and can and
did testify what he aaw and heard ; it was his Father's mind he should do
so. How worthy is God of all our praise for his wisdom in appointing, and
his love in sending, a person so fully accomplished, to make known his eter
nal counsels concerning the pardon of sin, and conferring eternal life on the
lost sons of Adam ? How inexcusable doth it render the conditiona of thoae
that will not hear his voice, beheve his word, since he witnesseth the things
he hath seen and heard, in and from hia Father I
2. From thoae worda, no man receives his testimony, the paucity of be
lievera is asserted ; few in compariaon of thoae that receive him not. Let
not the general unbehef of men discourage us from faith. It was foretold
by the Baptist ; forewarned, forearmed. The deril is the god of this world ;
he influenceth most men ; Christ ia a mediator for those that are not of this
world. All in the world enjoy some benefits of his mediation, but not the
saving benefits of it. It is dangerous to go with a multitude. Let no man
plead, such vrise and learned men are of this or that opinion. If we follow
the example of the most, we cannot be believers.
The Baptist makes a digression to describe the nature of faith, and the
excellency ofit : ver. 33, ' He that hath received his testimony,' — there is the
nature of faith, — ' hath set to his seal that God is true ;' there is the excel
lency of faith.
1. The nature of faith. It ia a receiring the testimony of Chriat in the
certainty of it, and in the extent of it. The teatimony of God's promises to
encourage us, of hia precepts to direct us, of his threatenings to awe us, and
make us adhere faster to him : a resting in this teatimony as certain, as the
centre of our souls, the only foundation of our hopea. God is the ultimate

304 chabnock's woeks. [John III. 36.
object of faith, Christ the immediate object of faith. Christ givea the testi
mony, God is the subject of that testimony. When the vritness Chriat gives
of the things he hath seen and heard is received, to be rested in as the ground
of our hope, and the rule of our walk, thia ia faith.
2. The excellency of faith. It owns the truth of God, ' he sets to his seal
that God is true,' — a metaphor taken from contracts, to which men testify
their approbation by fixing their seal. Thus we honour God, when we set
to the seal of our faith to justify the truth of his word. No man that owns
a God did ever absolutely doubt of his veracity ; but the truth here meant
is the fidelity of God in performing the promises of the gospel, in sending
the Messiah. He owns God to be aa good as his word, in sending a person
every way complete for the office he had undertaken, to effect our redemp
tion. God seals hia covenant to us in the blood of his Son, and by sacra
ments ; faith is a sealing the counterpart to God. We acknowledge his
truth in what he hath done, and rely upon hia truth in what he hath promiaed
yet to do ; and the hearty acknowledging hia veracity in what he hath already
performed, ia the ground of our , rehance on him in what is yet to be per
formed. If we believe not the first, we cannot rest upon him for the latter.
We cannot honour God more than by owning his truth. The glory of it is
the design of the whole Scripture, from the first promise to the close of the
book. He that denies the manifestation of God'a truth in hia Son, either
opinionatively or practically, denies the authority of the whole book, makes
God as bad aa the devil, accounts him a greater liar than any creature,
1 John V. 10. Aa faith gives God the greatest honour that a creature is
capable to render, so unbelief fixeth the greater disgrace upon him.
3. In regard of the authority of his mission : ver. 34, ' he whom God
hath sent, speaks the words of God.' He is sent of God, which is also an
encouragement to faith in him. The prophets were sent of God but as ser
vants, Christ as a Son. He eame out from God, as a beam from the sun,
the prophets came from God as matter kindled by a sunbeam. He was sent
by God with an immense fulness of Spirit, the prophets were sent by God
with some parcels of grace. The first act of faith is to believe that God
hath sent him : John xvii. 21, ' That the world may believe that thou hast
sent me.' He speaks the words of God, so did the prophets ; Christ always
speaks them, the propheta aometimes, as they were inapired according to the
pleasure of God. Whatsoever Christ speaka, ia the word and will of God.
The prophets spake to the ear, Christ can speak with efficacy to the heart.
He can give eyes to see, ears to hear, and a heart to understand ; he speaks
to the ear, and imprints upon the heart. He speaks the word of God with
such an evidence and certainty of truth, * than which, if God himself should
appear, there could not be greater.
4. In regard of hia excellent fitness. Another motive to faith, ' for God
gives not the Spirit by measm-e to him,' ver. 34. He hath the Spirit in the
full source, the prophets in some little streams ; he possesseth all the trea
sures of the Spirit, the prophets some grains and lesser parcels. This was
the foundation of his fitness for the discharge of his prophetical office, as he
was to speak the words of God, Isa. Ixi. 1-3. The fulness of the Spfrit he
had not at the first bestowed upon him, in regard of the gifts of it (though
he had the fulness of it for the aanctification of his human nature), but it
was communicated to him proportionably to his age and private state, whence
he is said to grow in wisdom, Luke ii. 52. But when he was to enter upon
the discharge of his office, it was given without measure at the time of his
baptism ; and this inward donation of the Spirit of God to the person of
* Amyraut, in loc.

John III. 36.] the miseey of unbelievebs. 305
Christ, was shadowed by the appearance and descent of the likeness of a dove
upon him, to which the Baptist might refer in thia expression.
Observe, 1. Christ hath an abundant fitness from God for the discharge of his
office, and an abundant fulness for his people. God did not measure to him
a certain quantity of the gifts and graces of hia Spirit, but poured it upon
him without stint. Besides the fitnesa of Christ by vfrtue of the hyposta
tical union, whereby the divinity supported the humanity in the whole work,
there was a fitness by the grace of unction, when he was ' anointed vrith the
oil of gladneaa above his fellowa,' Heb» i. 9. The end of giving the Spirit
in such a fulnesa, was to communicate to hia people, that we might ' receive
of hia fulness,' John i. 16. It was given, not as a treasure to be preserved
in a cabinet, but as a fountain to send forth freah atreams for a supply.
Our Joseph hath the corn, not only for himself, but the supply of the people
that come to him. And thus is Christ fitted to be an object of faith. He
only ia fit for this, that hath abundance of Spirit ; a fitness to relieve us, a
fulnesa to supply ua ; our faith were else in vain : no man would trust in a
peraon, of whose ability, as well as sincerity, he were not assured. He is
faithful in speaking the words of God, he is able in haring the Spirit of God
without limitation. And there is good reason it should be so, because there
is a special tie between God and him, the relation of Father and Son.* He
hath chosen ua according to his pleasure, for the glory of his name ; but he
is the Son of God, and therefore the object of his unspeakable love. Hence
ia the 5th and 6th Reason, viz.
5. In regard to the special relation of God to him as Father, and his
affection to him, ver. 35.
6. In regard to the full power given him over all things, ver. 85.
Observe,1. God has a special love to Christ in his office of mediatorahip. He
loved him from eternity, as he was his Son by eternal generation ; he loves
him as mediator, by apecial constitution ; he beara thia love to him as
mediator, aa those words are understood, John xvii. 24, ' For thou lovedst
me before the foundation of the world ; ' and the words in this verse are
meant of a love to him under this consideration. The gift of all things to
him, and appointing him heir of all things, is a fruit of this affection to
him, as undertaking the work of redemption. God loved him in hia person ;
he loves him in his office ; he is his beloved Son, as he is sent as a prophet
to be heard and obeyed, Luke ix. 85. He loves him for undertaking our
cause, for interposing for our peace. As he was the Son of God, he was
hmres natus ; as he is the Son of God in our nature, he is hares constitutus,
Heb. i. 2. He is the principal object of God's love ; he loves none but in
him, as he choae none but in him by his eternal decree, Eph. i. 4. Who
can we then trust better than him who poaaesseth the love of the Father ?
We approve of the Father's affection to him, by bestowing our faith and
love upon him. How highly do we pleaae God, when our affectiona are
pitched upon the same object with his, and run to the same term ! If he
loves the Son, he will love every one that loves him, and hate every one
that contemns him. How comfortable is this love of the Father to Christ
as mediator ! He loves all for whom Chriat doth exerciae this office, all
that believe in him ; and hia love is as unchangeable to the one as the other.
Our security is founded upon the love of God to the Son, which ia immutable,
and consequently to all that are embraced in that office by him. God will
* Amyraut. in loc.
VOL. rv. u

306 ohaenock's wobks. [John HI. 36.
not repent of what he confers upon us, because he gives it for the love he
beara hia Son, whioh love redounds to his seed. As that love wiU never
fail, so his grace and favour to a believer will never fail.
2. Christ is entrusted with aU things necessary to our salvation. Some,
therefore, interpret it, he hath given aU things to man through his hand ; he
hath the possession, but for the behever's use. God hath given all things
into hia hand, all creatures to rule them, aU treasures to bestow them,
all power to protect his people ; he hath given him the world of men and
angela to govern, the world of his elect to redeem ; he hath put all things
under his feet, and ' made him the head over all things for the church,'
Eph. i. 22. The consequence of the Baptist in the next verae, of believers
having etemal life, would not be valid if he had this power only for himself
and not for their use. How comfortable is thia ! Things were given into
the hands of Adam for his use and hia posterity's ; but he lost thenf, undid
himself and drew with him all that were in hia loins. They are now given
into the hands of Christ for our use, who cannot lose them ; and therefore
we cannot be lost if we believe in him. It is our happiness they are in hia
hands, and not in our own ; in the hands of one who cannot loae them by
sin, aa Adam did, because of the permanent holinesa of his nature, having
the sanctifying graces of the Spirit without measure ; nor by the craft and
power of the devil, because of hia infinite superiority above him, and having
the enabling gifts of the Spirit without measure. His humanity was op
posed, but not conquered ; he hath an holiness infinitely distant from sin,
and a wisdom to defeat the subtlety of the serpent.
We know also where to go for the alma we want. Christ is God'a
almoner to ua, and our advocate to God ; a mediator between God and us ;
he hath a commission to ask, and a promise to receive, Ps. ii. 8. We may
be sure to receive if we believe. The unchangeable God will stand to what
soever the Son doth ; he will not diminish hia love to hia Son, nor deny his
own grant to him. The gift given ia without repentance in the Father, and
the management of the trust without deceit in the Son. We have not what
we want, because we go not to the officer God hath appointed for distribu
tion ; a treasure is deposited in his hand, but for want of faith we want the
comfort. We dishonour the wisdom of God'a choice, as weU as the pleasure
of hia will, and deny the authority our Sariour is inveated with, by neglect
ing him, and not believing in him. Oh wonderful goodness ! to put our
concerns into the sure hand of hia Son, which were lost by the weak hands
of Adam.Upon all this discourse, John Baptist founda this conclusion, ver. 36.
' He that believes in the Son hath everlasting life ; but he that believes not
in the Son shall not see life, but the wrath of God abideth on him.' Though
all power be given to Christ, and he hath authority to dispense the treasures
of God, whereof everlasting life is the chief, yet none can expect to enjoy it
but upon the condition of believing on him. It is very reasonable that
whosoever expects the blessing he is entrusted with, should assent and con
sent to God's choice of him and the conditions of enjoying them.
The text is made up of a motive to faith, and a disauaaive from unbelief
1. The motive is drawn from the reward, everlasting life; spiritual life de
facto, eternal life de jure ; one in hand, and the other in hope, Rom. viii. 24.
2. The dissuasive from the misery, which is double.
1. Exclusion from life ; shall not see or enjoy life, or shall not have so
much as the least aenae of it.
2. Permanency of wrath ; the wrath of God abides on him.
Thua, after the description of Christ's person, dignity, and power, the

John III. 86.] the miseey of unbelievebs. 307
Baptist directs his disciples, who at first made the complaint of our
Saviour, to a belief in him, by the most forcible arguments. He being so
great aa I have deacribed, can give eternal life to his followers ; and being so
dear to God as he is, the wrath of his Father will remain upon his rejecters ;
and therefore, if the happinesa of etemal life be desirable, and the terrors
of divine wrath formidable, be sure that you receive his testimony, that you
may acquire the one and escape the other.
He notes the special and immediate object of faith in both his conclu
sions : believes on the Son, and believes not the Son. Christ, as the Son of
God, and sent by God, ia the object of our faith.
The word translated believes not, is a'iriiSZv, which some render, he that
obeys not ; the word properly signifiea disobedient and obatinate, but in the
Scripture it is often rendered as it is in the text, unbelieving, which is not
without precedent in heathen authors.* It may well be rendered ' he that
believes not,' becauae it is opposed to beliering in the first part of the verse,
and may be meant of final unbelief, where there is not a simple awigria, but
an obstinacy and unpersuadableness against the gospel. It is not said, the
wrath of God shall come upon him, but abides upon him. Either,
1. To shew man's misery by nature. Every man is bom in a state of
wrath, and remains under wrath, unless some expiation be made for his sin.
Now, since there is no relief against this state but by the blood of the Son
of God, which was shed for propitiation ; if this be refused gr neglected,
the soul lies under that curse original corruption placed him in, and which
he hath since frequently merited by an addition of many actual aina. The
debt due to the law must be paid, either by believing in him who hath paid
it, or by suffering it in our own persona ; it ia faith only makes ua pass
from that death our natural state hath subjected us to, unto that life which
God hath provided in and by his Son : John v. 24, ' He that believes is
passed from death to life.'
2. Or to distinguish it from the momentaneous wrath which sometimes
lights upon a believer, which ia called ' a little wrath,' Isa. hv. 8. There is
a wrath which breathes upon a man like fire, which doth not destroy but
refine ; but thia is a permanent wrath, which punisbeth and preserveth the
subject for ever under it. It is a wrath that will not paas away, whereby
the eternity of punishment ia at least implied ; it shall never depart from
him. In other expressions of God's anger, there may be a mixture of tastes
of comforts ; but here wrath encompasseth, and overflows like a sea of gall,
without a taste of joy, or a touch of blessedness.
The doctrine I shall insist on is this : continued and final unbelief rendera
a man infallibly an object of the etemal wrath of God. The communication
of the life of God was broken off by the sin of man, to which we are restored
only by faith in the Redeemer ; and without faith we are at a distance from
God, the fountain of life, and remain under that wrath the state of nature
put us into. As faith unites us to God, so unbelief separates us from God.
Whatsoever righteousnesa there is in a man without faith in Christ, ia vain
and perishing ; it is as stubble, or a paper waU, which cannot defend any
man from the flaming sword of God's justice. It is of no efficacy of itstlf
to eternal life ; it may render the wrath and punishment less sharp than
another's, but cannot remove it, and put a man into a state of life. It is
not all kind of unbelief, or dissent from some particular truth, that subjects
a man to eternal wrath; but unbelief that despiseth the Son of God, that
refuseth to receive his testimony. It is by this men perish under the gos
pel, and not for want of declarations of divine goodness, or want of provision
* Stephanus Thesaur. cites Hesychius explanlng Umiim in Sophocles by eimrras.

308 chabnock's wobks. [John III. 36.
in Christ. Those that refused the inritation to the supper, so incensed the
king, that he pronounceth an irrevocable sentence against every man of them,
that they should not taste of the dainties he had provided, Luke riv. 24.
And our Saviour, in the direction to his apostlea for preaching the gospel,
orders them this theme : Mark xvi. 16, ' He that believes and is baptized
shaU be saved, but he that believea not ahaU be damned,' aa the immut
able decree of God, concerning the atate and condition of mankind, as to
hfe or death. The latter follows upon the former ; for if he that beheves shall
be saved, then the contrary to salvation will fall upon the unbeliever ; and
not only a bare privation of salvation and exclusion from the blessed vision
of God, but a sharper sentence of misery, according to his ingratitude, in
refusing the riches of divine grace, offered to him in the gospel.
I shall premise two things.
1. Unbelief is not the only sin that damns. Other ains vrill condemn as
well as that. Adam's first disobedience was the ground of Adam's condem
nation. Man was condemned by the law, before Chriat waa promised in the
gospel. The world had come short of the glory of God, before Christ took
the infirmities of our nature for suffering. He came to save, which sup
poseth man in a state of damnation ; he came to redeem, which supposeth
man in a state of captivity ; he came to bring us to God, which supposeth
our distance from God ; he was incarnate to free us from the law, which
supposeth our being under the curse of it.
2. Yet it is that sin, without which no other sin would damn a man that
hath heard the gospel. If a man be found guilty of felony, for which the
law allows him the mercy of the book, if he can read, he prevents the sen
tence of death ; if he cannot, he sinks under the penalty of the law : his
felony, and not his ignorance, is the meritorious cause of his execution.
The case is much the aame ; men are condemned for other sins, which misery
would have been prevented by faith ; yet it differs in this, that unbelief is
our sin ; it is our duty to believe, since God hath authority to reveal his
truth, and command us to acknowledge it ; but the prisoner's not reading
is his misery, not his crime. The sickness a man lies under would not have
killed him * if he had taken the physic offered him ; though the disease were
mortal in itself, it might have been expelled by that sovereign remedy. The
refusal of the medicine may be counted the formal or moral cause of his
death, though the disease be the procuring or natural cause of it. A male
factor is cast into prison for treason ; a pardon is offered and refused ; had it
been accepted, he bad not undergone the penalty due to hia crime. No sin
could destroy us, if unbelief did not reign in us. Faith would instrumentally
remove the guilt of all other sin. Upon the embracing the expiatory sacri
fice of the gospel, our other debts would be cancelled ; upon a refusal, our
guilt stands upon record, and charged upon us in full vigour, and receives a
greater aggravation, by the rejecting the most obhging revelation of God,
and counting the remedy for sin in the merit and satisfaction of Christ a
trifle. Other sins condemn meritoriously, and this formaUy, say some.
Though all graces are in a believer, yet his salvation is principally ascribed
to faith in the rank of grace : Eph. ii. 8, ' By grace you are saved, through
faith.' So, though a man be guilty of all sins, yet his condemnation is attri
buted to his unbelief. The guilt of the most monstrous enormities would
not be laid to any man's charge, if he did by faith and repentance turn to
God ; and the most glittering righteouaness, with unbelief wUl not prevent
his being fuel for wrath. Who are excluded from the bosom of Abraham ?
The sons of the kingdom, bred up and nourished among the ordinances of
* Gerhard, harmon. cap. clsxix.

John IIL 36.] the miseey of unbelievebs. 309
God, but neglecting or refusing a Saviour. And who are entertained there ?
Gentiles besmeared with the mire of idolatry, yet expiated by the mediator
they believed in. Mat. viii. 11, 12; it ia upon the occasion of the faith of
the centurion, that Christ speaks of the happiness of the Gentiles and misery
of the Jews. Men, strangers to God for so many ages, are engrafted by
faith, and prepared for heaven, while those entrusted with the oracles of
God are disinherited by unbelief, and made vessels of wrath. In regard of
merit, every sin is the cause of condemnation ; in regard of execution, un
belief ia the sole cause. Shimei reviles David,* is pardoned by him, and
his pardon renewed by Solomon, but with a condition that he should not go
out of Jerusalem ; he breaks thia condition, ia, according to Solomon's word,
executed. The true cause ofhis death, is his reviling of David ; had he not
been guilty of that, Solomon had no ground of offence, nor had imposed any
condition upon him. But when he violates that condition, and goes out of
Jerusalem, against the command of the king, Solomon takes occasion to
punish him for his former crime. Shimei might have avoided the punish
ment, by observing the condition commanded. Men are condemned by the
law, and executed by the justice of it ; the condemnation of the law would
not take place, if faith, the cure of guilt, had possession of the heart. No
sin can condemn, if faith be present ; and no righteousness can save, if faith
be absent. While unbehef remains, all sins are retained ; when thia is
removed, all sina are remitted. All that perish, perish either by or for this
not believing ; those to whom the gospel ia not revealed, periah hy reason of
their not believing, through ignorance ; it is by reaaon of that the wrath of
God abides on them ; and when there ia but one medicine to cure a disease,
the ignorant patient perisheth for want of the knowledge of it ; the knowing
patient perisheth for want of applying it. This the schools understand, f
when they say, the heathens that never heard of Chriat perish ratione infi-
delitatis ; those; that hear of him perish propter infidelitatem, in a state of
infidelity, though not for it.
For the evidence of this doctrine, let us consider some propositions.
1. All.men by nature are under condemnation. The insenaibleness of
thia, is the cause of unbelief ; and without a due consideration of thia, there
can be no entertainment of the gospel. Christ himself preacheth this doc
trine : John iii. 18, ' He that believes on me is not condemned, but he that
believes not ia condemned already, because he hath not believed in the name
of the only begotten Son of God.' He is condemned already, not shall be,
but is, i. e. he is in a state of condemnation. The sentence is pronounced
by the justice of God against every son of Adam. ' Death passed upon all
men, for that all have sinned,' and 'judgment came upon all men to con
demnation,' Rom. V. 12, 18. All the branches of Adam were adjudged to
eternal death by that law, whioh he, by his original apostasy, transgressed,
and they, by their repeated offences, have further violated. All are the
children of wrath, all are become guilty before God : ' Cursed is every one
that continueth not in all things which are written in the book of the law to
do them,' Gal. iii. 10. The whole race of mankind was bound up in that
sentence pronounced against Adam upon transgressing the law, which God
had enacted : Gen. ii. 17. ' Thou shalt die the death.' By the same act of
justice which cast Adam out of paradise were all his posterity expelled.
We are an accursed generation by the covenant of worka ; our hands and
our heels are lifted up against our sovereign Lord ; we are utterly naked of
original righteousnesa ; all the sins we have committed have every one
damnation at the heel. We are exposed to the curses of the law, the fury
-» Barlow on Tim, part. ii. p. 94. t Vines, Supper, p. 362.

310 chabnock's woeks. [John III. 36.
of God, the scoffs of the tempting serpent ; there ia but an inch between us
and devouring flames ; aU are condemned, though all are not yet executed ;
God yet givea respite to man to lay hold upon his mercy in the gospel. If
a man die without faith in the Son of God, he ia as surely undone as if he
were under the full execution of all the threatenings of the law at this instant.
He is ' condemned already,' i.e. he hath the cause of condemnation in him
self the sharp points of the law are full against him ; as a malefactor in the
gaol for some capital crime may be aaid to be condemned already, in the
nature of the offence he hath committed, by the equity of that law he hath
violated. There is a double condemnation, one by the law, another by the
gospel. All men are in nature condemned by the first, all unbelievers by
both ; they are condemned at the tribunal of the law for transgressing it,
and even at the mercy-seat of the goapel for rejecting it. None are exempted
from it but by faith in the gospel, which is the only way to escape the
severity of the law. When a man appeals from the tribunal of the law,
whereby he stands condemned, to the throne of grace, wherein mercy sways
the sceptre dipped in the blood of Chriat, casting himself upon the merit of
that blood, and resolving to obey the voice of a Redeemer, he comes forth
from hia priaon, and the darkness of condemnation, into the light of hfe.
He is condemned already. Every elect person is thus in a state of con
demnation, while he remains in a atate of unbelief ; for if there be ' no con
demnation to them that are in Chriat,' Rom. viii. 1, then there is nothing
but condemnation to them that are yet out of Christ ; and if a man depart
out of the world in that state, he for ever lies under the irrevocable sentence
of the law, for ever cursed, because for ever guilty. And the reason is
rendered, ' becauae he believea not in the name of the only begotten Son of
God.' He refuseth the only remedy God hath provided, and excludes him
self from the life, salvation, righteousness, and happiness which Christ hath
purchased, and therefore lies under the judgment of the old sentence by
refusing the grace of the new administration, and acquires a new guUt ; for
the more excellent the person that is neglected, the only Son of God, the
greater punishment ia deserved. He further describes to us* that faith
which brings us out of that natural condemnation ; he doth not say, because
he hath not believed that the only Son of God is come into the world, which
is a faith that many rest upon, — this would exclude only absolute infidelity
and dissent from the doctrine of the gospel, — ^but ' because he beheves not in
the name of the only begotten Son of God.' He receives not his word,
relies not upon his office, submits not to hia authority, for name signifies
this and much more fri Scripture. A man may beheve the Son of God ia
come, yet place no confidence in him, nor pay any obedience to him. A
man may believe such a man to be a physician, and able to cure, but if he
useth not his medicine he shall be never the better for his skill.
2. Man being thua naturally condemned, his unbelief binda all hia guilt
upon him: John viii. 24, ' I aay therefore unto you, that you ahall die in
your sina'; for if you believe not that I am he, you shall die in your ains.'
In the illative, therefore, he notes thefr natural condemnation, because they
were ' of thia world,' ver. 23. And there is no remedy to prevent this
death, but to ' believe that I am he,' the Messiah, the person appointed to
bruise the serpent's head, appointed to be the Saviour of the world. All
sina are ' sealed np in a bag,' Job xiv. 17, recorded with a pen of iron, and
the point of a diamond, Jer. xvii. 1. Every indictment remaina in force ;
nothing but faith in the blood of Christ can cancel the writing, deface the
seal, take the accusation off the file. Unbelief therefore locks all other sins
* Muscul. in loc.

John in. 36.] the miseey op'unbelievees. 811
hke shackles upon the conscience,* which otherwiae by the help of Christ
might eaaily shake them off; all men's violations of the law stick to them,
and the wrath due to them hangs over them. When a prince pardons all
misdemeanours by his proclamation upon easy conditiona, and swears that
if there be not an acceptance of it the refuser ahall anawer the law for all his
guilt ; if a man will not aue out his pardon, will not perform so easy a con
dition, he continues the weight of all his former guilt upon him. The first
promise was made after the fall, to take away the guilt of transgressions
againat the first covenant, Heb. ix. 15. If the promise be not received, the
mediator applied, the guilt of those transgressions endures. We are con
demned upon the breach of the first covenant, and can only be restored to a
state of life by embracing the new. Sin remains in its vigour, as a disease
upon a patient, by refusing the only physician able to cure it. It faatens
guilt the more, because it is an approbation of all the iniquitiea committed
against the law ; and increaaeth the guilt of those ains he was guilty of
before, because he manifests a greater fondness of them, a stronger unwiU
ingness to part with them. It leaves the unbeliever naked to the stroke of
divine justice, without a refuge to cover him. He that refuseth shelter
against a potent adversary exposeth himself to hia fury. There ia no plead
ing the covenant of worka ; that hath been transgreased, and proclaims only
punishment, not pardon ; nor the covenant of grace, the sanctuary of that he
refused to enter into. So that he is not only, as a heathen, in the same
condition as if Christ had never suffered, in regard of want of relief, but in a
worse, in regard of sharpness of punishment ; he hath not only no more
title to happinesa than if Christ had never died, but a stronger title to pun
iahment because Christ did die. Hia sin remains in more vigour against
him, because the only remedy is refused by him. The weight of guilt is not
removed, and the hour of punishment is reserved for such an one.
3. The covenant of grace, in the hand of a mediator, ia the last covenant
that God will make. The times of the gospel are called ' the last times,'
' the last days,' Isa. ii. 2, Heb. i. 2 ; no other relieving administration ia
intended by God, or can be expected by ua ; this contains the whole and
utmost counael of God about the aalvation of men. Acts xx. 27. An ana
thema is poured out against any that ' preach another gOspel,' Gal. i. 9 ;
' No more sacrifice remains for sin,' Heb. x. 26, 27. There is but one
sacrifice for expiation, but one mediator for intercession, but one special
officer appointed by God under whoae wing we can be aafe. It ia a covenant
of infinite grace ; there can be none above it, because there cannot be grace
above infinite. There can be no refuge but in mercy ; if mercy refuse, what
can step in for our relief ? Mercy is the only bar to justice ; if the bar be
removed, what stop to the overflovring surge ? This covenant is settled, that no
man ahall enjoy the benefit of the satisfaction the surety hath made, vrithout
the conditiona of repentance and faith. If this law stand of force, it cannot be
supposed that there can be any aalvation without a aatisfaction for the breach
of this covenant, as well aa a aatisfaction was necessary for the breach of the
first; for the honour of God wiU aa much or more require a satisfaction for the
breach of this, as being a greater contempt of him, than for the breach ofthe first
covenant, wherein the contempt of him was less, and so many attributes were not
disparaged by it. Thia satisfaction must be by a stronger surety than ouraelves ;
for ouraelves we are as unable to return a recompence for the violations of the
second covenant, as we were to do it for the first. So strong a surety we cannot
have, unless the Son of God should be sent to suffer again, only upon this
condition, that the sinner should be discharged without anything done on his
* Eeynolds's Life of Christ, p. 496.

312 chabnock's woeks. [John III. 36.
part. But as to the first, the aufferinga of the Son of God must never be
repeated ; he was to bear sin but once, his second appearance ia to be ' with
out ain unto salvation,' Heb. ix. 28, the salvation of believera, the damna
tion of unbelievera. No more aacrifice remains for any sin in the world.
Nor, suppose Christ were sent to bear sin, and be again the chastisement of
our peace after the violations of the second covenant, it cannot be upon such
terms, that upon the account of his aufferinga, without anything done on our
parts, we -should be discharged. It seems not congruous to the honour of
God to send his Son to suffer again, or if he did, to impose no conditions
upon thoae that should enjoy the benefit of those aufferinga. There can be
no leaa requfred than ia now, which ia no more than the receiving the atone
ment, Rom. V. 11, a conaent to it, and acceptance of it. Nor ia it conaiatent
with the hohnesa of God to discharge men upon the suffering of a surety,
who wUl persist in that ain for which the aurety suffered, and make use of a
Saviour to be free from suffering but not free from offending. No more is
required now ; in' this consists faith and repentance ; and no less can reason
ably be thought to be required if Christ should again be exposed to suffering.
What less can any prince, any man require, for any favour he doth, but
acceptance and gratitude ? So that though the transgression against the
covenant of works ia relieved by the covenant of grace, yet the transgressions
againat this can have no relief but in it. For it is the last, and if it were
not, you cannot suppose any covenant to succeed upon lighter terms than
the grace is offered in thia. To suppose a covenant without conditions, is
as much aa to suppose man to be created without a rule of obedience ; and
this ia to suppose »God without an exerciae of his sovereignty, and a creature
without subjection, both which are impossible.
4. It is impossible, according to the economy of the gospel, that an
unbeliever can be saved by mercy. A man must either be saved by justice
or mercy : by justice he might in the first covenant, had he not provoked
it ; by mercy in the second covenant he may, if he doth not refuse it. Now,
justice cannot save him in the first covenant, because he wants a righteous
ness of his own ; mercy cannot in the second, because he will not accept
the conditions of it, which ia, the receiving the righteousness of another.
Other sins offend juatice, but this provokes mercy, which ia the aeverest
attribute when provoked, as the sweetest when received. It is not fit, indeed,
that mercy should save an impenitent, unbelieving sinner, God having
appointed a mediator, for the content of his mercy, as well as the satisfaction
of hia justice (that mercy might not complain for the severe destruction of
mankind), and mercy fully acquiescing in the reasonableness of the conditions
of faith and repentance proposed in the gospel. Justice and mercy having
friet together upon thoae articles, amd struck bands in a full agreement, it is
not fit mercy should entertain am unbeliering sinner, who refuaeth the terms
infinite mercy hath been satisfied with in the compact between itself and
justice. If mercy should offer to embrace such a one, it would not be true
to its own condition ; as, if justice should not punish the transgressions of
the law, it would not be true to the law, and consequently not true to itself,
because it is the rule of the law. Mercy to such a one after thia agreement
would be an unequitable mercy. We must not fancy a weak and dishonour
able mercy — a God unrighteous in his acts of compassion. Mercy cannot
but be offended to aee the conditiona it gained in ita suit, and which it was
fully contented with, despised and trod underfoot. Mercy can no more save
any that remains an object of revenging justice under the first covenant, than
justice can condemn one that is an object of mercy by receiving the blood of
the second. The attributes of God cannot invade one another's rights. It

John III. 36.1 the miseey of unbelievebs, 813
is fit he ahould be left to the hands of justice, that wiU not stand to the
terms and covenant mercy made for him.
(1.) Thia is not consistent with tbe truth of God. When God made the
law, he annexed promises and threatenings, and his trath was bound to make
them good upon the suitable behaviour of man ; though we find only a
threatening upon record, yet that implies a promise. Gen. ii. 17. If death
be threatened upon tranagression, life is implied upon obedience. But when
man broke the law, truth was engaged on the aide of juatice, and had nothing
to do in a legal way with mercy ; for man, by his sin, had rendered himself
fuel for justice, and had entailed upon himself the horror of the threatening.
But in the work of redemption, mercy and truth, which sin had separated in
regard of any joint acta towarda man (aaking truth to be a second to the
justice of God), met together, Ps. Ixxxv. 10. These attributes, which were
severed, were joined again in an indissoluble knot — mercy to the sinner, and
truth to the threatening. Mercy took man's part, and desired peace ; justice
took the law's part, and required punishment : neither mercy nor justice could
lose thefr nature ; sin had severed them, Christ re-unites them, and trath
now is engaged on both sides. If an unbeliever, therefore, in that state
thinks to bo saved, mercy and truth must be severed ; but this happy union
cannot be dissolved for the sake of rebels against both. As the power of
God, though infinite, is regulated by his will,* ao the mercy of God, though
infinite, is regulated by his truth : he hath made faith an unalterable con
dition of the covenant ; and God cannot deny his covenant, because he cannot
deny himself. The truth of God is engaged to damn such a man more than
before ; it is as well engaged to make good the evangelical threatening, as it
was before to make good the legal. Justice will condemn both by law and
gospel ; it is reason that justice should satisfy itself upon that man, as far as
he is able to give satisfaction, who will not be contented with that which
infinite justice waa aatisfied with. Mercy will condemn him ; that hath no
reaaon to afford any relief to that man that despiseth the evangelical condi
tions, which fully pleased it, and re-united it with justice and truth. God
hath confirmed those terms by an oath, that those that believe not ' shall
not enter into his rest,' Heb. iii. 18. But he never took an oath that he
that observed not the covenant of works f ahould not enter into his rest.
Though Adam was under a covenant of works in his innocent state, yet he
was not in such a state as to be under an utter impossibility of aalvation upon
the transgression of it, because God had provided a remedy in his Son. But
he is now under an oath to punish every man that doth finally reject that
remedy. The highest truth cannot deny one tittle of his word and oath.
(2.) Nor is it consistent vrith his wisdom. It is not agreeable to the wisdom
of a prince to be reconciled to any rebels that will not suffer themaelves to
be reduced to their former obedience.
If God should change his dispensation, it must be because the terms are
too hard, or the benefits not valuable enough. Neither of those can be ; the
conditions are most reasonable, the benefit the most precious, that God, in
the conjecture of any creature, can give. It had been no act of wiadom to
send his Son to satisfy his juatice, if mercy should be so cheaply prostituted ;
if rebels could enjoy the favour whUe they cherished thefr rebeUions ; if the
purchase should be given to those that dishonoured the purchaser, and sal
vation conferred upon those that contemned the Sariour. The wiadom of
God would suffer, in undervaluing the meritorious blood of his Son, if he
conferred the same favour upon thoae that despise it and those that esteem
* Bolton, Direct, for walking with God, p. 387.
t Hooker's Effectual Calling, p. 366.

314 ohaenock's woeks. [John III. 86.
it, and placed svrine, that trample his jewels in the dirt, in the same happy
condition with those that lodge them in their dearest affections. What
ground of praise for that manifold wiadom, so much celebrated in Scripture,
in the mission of Christ, if any could be admitted into heaven without faith
in him and love to him ? God would declare his death to be rather an act
of cruelty to him than kindness to us, aince, if any were aaved without faith
in him, it would be evident that hia death waa unnecessary, since we could
be as happy without him as by him.
(3.) Nor ia it consistent with the honour of Christ. The very end of
Christ'a death ia crossed by unbehef. He suffered the puniahment due to
our sins, that sin might not reign in ua, as well aa that the punishment
might not reign over us. What benefit can we reasonably expect by his
death, if we will not believe in him and renounce our ain, which ia contrary
to the end of hia death ? God would act contrary to the end of our
Saviour'a death, in giving to the goata the benefits his Son purchased for the
sheep, John x. 15 ; and bestowing upon his enemies what he designed for
his friends, John xv. 13 ; and sprinkling that blood upon those that tread it
under foot, which was shed for the gathering together the sons of God, John
xi. 52 ; and imputing the merits of it to impure wretches, that was intended
for the purifying a peculiar people unto himself Tit. ii. 14. When Christ
died only for believers, in regard of the actual communication and apphca
tion, it is a disparagement unto him, and a making hia death iu vain, to let
the despisers of it have an equal share in the benefits of it, and make it as
much a savour of. life to them that will not value it as to those that do.
What king, that offera reconciliation to rebels, by the intercession of his son,
demanding the conditiona of trust in his son and obedience to him, promis-
' ing them not only upon it the pardon of their crimes, but the investing them
with new favours, would not dishonour his aon, as well aa himself if he
admitted any one person of that rebellious pack without that trust and
obedience to him upon which the pardon was offered. Let us, then, appeal
to our own consciences, and aak them the queation, whether they think it
comely and worthy of God to aave any againat hia word, his oath, his
threatenings, the intention of the death of Christ, against aU those terms
upon which he is proffered to man ?
(4.) Justice cannot but punish an unbeliever. Aa goodness cannot but
smile upon an innocent creature, mercy cannot but hold open its arms for a
believing penitent, so juatice cannot but flame out against an obstinate
rebel. Aa goodness would not be goodness if it rejected an holy soul,
mercy would contradict its own nature if it thrust back a penitent believer,
the proper object of it, so justice would be injustice if it spared a final un
believer. And, as fhe first, viz., to act contrary to his goodness, it is impos
sible in the nature of God ; the second, viz., to act againat his mercy, is
imposaible in the settled method of God ; ao the third, to act against his
justice, is impossible in the nature of God, aay some, with much probabi
lity ; but certainly impossible according to the revealed wiU of God. As
the holiness of God cannot but hate sin, ao the justice of God cannot but
puniah it : it would be aome degree of love to impurity wholly to apare it.
That God sparea a sinner for a time, is for the manifeatation of hia patience,
but especially upon the account of the mediation of Christ ; for, as by him
the world was created, so, after sin, by his mediation it did consist ; without
this the world could not have atood under the curses of the law. But to
spare an obatinate rebel for ever, would evidence an approbation of hia sin,
as well as an affection to his person. God, therefore, having manifested
that he wiU have sin punished, in the sinner, or the surety, and that he wUl

John III. 36.] the miseey op unbelievebs. 315
not pardon it without satisfaction, the punishment of an unbelieving rebel
will be as unavoidable, aa the puniahment of Christ after he had entered
himself as our surety. Since God did not spare the Son that he loved,
when he would stand in the stead of sinners, oan he apare the unbeliever
that he hates, when he slights the Son that he infinitely loves, and thereby
darea the juatice of God, which he hath aeen lie so heavy upon the Son of
his affection ? Could any dispensation from suffering have been granted,
his only Son, a spotless surety, should have enjoyed the benefit of it ; but
that could not be, in regard of his immutable justice, after he was accepted
by him in that quality. Since it was necessary his only beloved Son should
be exposed to sufferings for the remission of the sins of others, it is aa necea
sary the final unbeliever should be exposed to dreadful puniahmenta for his
own tranagressions, and the slighting so great a remedy. The justice of God
is inflexible in the punishment of sin,* when the sinner remaina obstinate
and impenitent : the inflexibility is declared in the sufferings of Christ, which
were necessary for remission. And though his sufferings, and the satisfac
tion thereby, were of infinite value, yet they are wholly useless for the eternal
benefit of those that wrap np themselves in their infidelity and impenitence ;
faith and repentance being required aa necessary conditions for the enjoy
ment of the fruit of these sufferings. When this mediation and satisfaction
of Christ is whoUy refused, or not embraced upon the terms on which it is
offered, the only bar to the inundation of God's justice is taken away,
whereby the soul liea naked to the overflowings of it.
(5.) That person which was the offered Saviour, shaU be the judge and
condemner of such as neglect the terms of salvation by him. What sanc
tuary can an unbeliever have, when the mediator of mercy appears as the
inflicter of punishment ? ' He appears the second time to the salvation only
of those that look for him,' Heb. ix. 28t (that affectionately look for his
appearance), of those whose sins he bore upon the tree. Christ did never
obtain any peace and pardon for those that persevere to the end in their
infidehty. Such Christ ia aaid not to know : Mat. vii. 23, ' I never knew
you ;' not to pray for : John xvii. 9, ' I pray not for the world,' i. e. for
such as remain in their sin, and are separated from God by their unbelief.
God hath promised to make aU his enemies hia footatool; and as he hath con
ferred upon him a power of aaking for hia people, ao he hath given him a
power of destroying his enemies, and committed all judgment to the Son :
Ps. ii. 8, 9. ' Thou shalt break them with a rod of iron,' is the frait
of Christ'a asking of God. As he gives him blesaings for those that trust in
him, ver. 12, so he gives him judgments for those that set themselves against
bim. God's mercy will not relieve any that are mortally wounded by his Son ;
and he that gives Christ the whole world upon asking, will not contradict
him in his severest acts of dashing his enemies like a potter's vessel. As he
had a love to shed his blood, so he hath a wrath to burn them that kiss him
not with a kisa of homage. They are so far from haring any share in hia intgr-
cessions for mercy, that they have a dreadful interest in his pleaa for wrath.
He indeed prayed upon the croas for the forgiveness of aome, he praya also for
indignation to be poured out upon othera, Ps. Ixix. 23, 24. It is the cry of him
to whom they gave gaU for meat, and in hia thirst, vinegar to drink, ver. 21.
His blood hath a voice for the forgivenesa of some, and for the punishment
of others ; it hath as loud a cry against them that undervalue it aa it hath
for them that do apply it. He cannot intercede for any but upon the account
of his blood ; his intercession is no other than the voice of his blood whioh
* Amyraut. sur Heh. vi. p. 108, 109, improved.
't amiaipc'f^lMois, that affectionately look for him as one friend for another.

316 chabnock's woeks. [John IH. 36.
speaks in heaven. His blood will no more speak for them that alight it, than
Abel'a blood did for Cain that shed it. ' It speaka better things than the
blood of Abel,' but only for those that are ' come to the Mediator of the new
covenant and the blood of sprinkling,' Heb. xii. 24 ; nay, Christ is not able
to save any but thoae that believe. ' He ia able to save,' but with a re
striction, ' those that come to God by him,' Heb. vii. 24, 25. Not able
morally, as it is said, ' it is impossible to renew' apostates from the gospel
' to repentance,' Heb. vi. 4, 6. Not but that God can by his absolute power
renew one that doth totally apostatise from the profession of the gospel,
but in regard of his wisdom and righteousnesa it ia impoaaible. So Christ
ia able to save none but those that come unto God by him. God hath put
such a limitation in the covenant, agreed between himself and our Saviour ;
those only are tobe justified that have the ' knowledge of his righteous servant,'
Isa. liii. 11. He saves only his seed, those that are 'begotten to a hvely
hope by the resurrection of Christ from the dead,' He can save only those
that are his members, and faith only gives ua an union to Christ, and so en
titles us to salvation. Christ can never run counter to hia goapel, and bless
them whom the gospel curseth, or save them whom the gospel condemns.
This would be a contradiction, to confirm the covenant by hia death, and
break it by his life ; to walk according to tbe counsel of God when he was
in the fleah, and defeat it when he is upon hia throne. He that gave mercies
according to men's faith when he was upon earth, will not give aalvation to
unbelief since he is ascended into heaven. His usual language was, ' Be it
imto yon according to your faith,' ' Go in peace, thy faith hath saved thee.'
(6.) That which makes the sin against the Holy Ghost unpardonable in
this world, makes final unbelief unpardonable in the other. A denial of
Christ is joined with the sin against the Holy Ghost, Luke xii. 9, 10. Not
that unbelief and the sin against the Holy Ghost, are the same ; for the one
is pardonable in this life, and the other not. The sin against the Holy
Ghost ia, I suppose, accounting Christ an impostor, or a total apostasy from
the doctrine of the gospel, after some approbations of it, and tastes of its
sweetness in the understanding, Heb. vi. 4-6. But the final unbelief of
those that sit under the doctrine of the gospel, puts them in the same state
with the other : Mark iii. 28-30, ' He that shaU blaspheme against the Holy
Ghost hath never forgiveness, but is in danger of eternal damnation : be
cause they said, He hath an unclean spirit.' ' All manner of sin and blas
phemy shaU be forgiven unto men,' Mat. xii. 81, i.e. may be pardoned;*
there is nothing in the economy of God to hinder it. The transgression
against the law was a transgression properly againat the Father, to whom
the creation is aacribed, and who settled the law upon that occasion. No
thing in the wisdom of God repugns, but that the pardon of this kind of sin
may be presented to men, and a Redeemer may be appointed to make a
satisfaction to the Father for it, and the benefit of it may be enjoyed by men,
upon their tuming to God from whom they had revolted (and upon less con
ditions than this, no benefit could reasonably be expected by it, as was
shewn before). As creation is ascribed to the Father, and consequently the
law, so redemption is appropriated to the Son, and consequently the gospel.
By his sufferings he paid the price, and by hia resurrection he received the
discharge, and an approbation of his sufferings, and of the conditions upon
which the fruit of them waa to be received by men. Unbehef is a sin pro
perly and immediately against the Son ; as Christ ia the immediate object of
faith, so he is the immediate object of unbelief The sin against the
Father ia clearly more pardonable, according to thia dispensation, than the
* Amyraut. sur Heb, vi. p. 114, &c.

John III. 36.] the miseey of unbelievebs. 317
sin against the Son ; because here ia a satiafaction made to the Father for
the aina against the law. But though it be made and offered to men, yet
they may give no respect to it, and by reason of the natural darknesa of
their minda not underatand the high concern of it. But when the Spirit
doth by a common work enlighten their minds, and make them in aome
meaaure see the comeliness, excellency, and neceasity of the things the
Redeemer hath done and suffered ; if after this they prefer their trifling
pleasures before him, and will finally deny him in opinion, profession, or
practice, what help can be expected ? The juatice of God required satis
faction by blood for the breach of the law, hecause the law was, ' In the
day thou eatest thereof, thou shalt die the death.' The Son therefore relieves
men by his death for transgressions committed against the Father. The
law of Christ requires belief in the aatiafaction he hath wrought : faith is
called therefore ' faith in his blood,' Rom. iii. 25. The Spirit presseth men
to accept of this satisfaction made by the Son, doth accompany the ministry
of the word, givea some touches to men, instils some motions into them,
and this frequently ; for the law of Christ is not aa the law at the creation
waa, the very day wherein thou negleotest or refusest to accept of thia aatia
faction, thou shalt die the death. The patience of God concurs with the
offers made by Chriat, and gives time of respite ; and the Spirit faUs in to
inform men of their undone condition, and persuade them to comply with
the design of God. If then the new order of the Father, the satiafaction of
Chriat, the persuasion of the Spirit in the word, are all set at nought, what
help can be looked for ? There is not a fourth person to step in with any
operationa. The whole Trinity, and their personal operations, are particularly
offered and shghted, the mercy of the Father, the satisfaction of the Son,
and the importunity of the Spfrit ; since therefore there is no other God, no
other Father, no other Son, no other Spirit superior to those, no other
world under the government of another God, that any man can transport
himself into (as a man may do upon the earth, pass into one country, when
he hath offended the laws of another), where is there any relief? It must
be in acting those methods over again, exposing his Son again to suffering,
and that doth not consist with the wisdom and majesty of God. But sup
pose he should do so, there ia as little hopes that a man will accept of it
then as now, considering the natural enmity against God. And upon the
same account that he should die a second time, there would be no end put
to the reiteration of his sufferings. Besides (as was said before) the con
ditions cannot be more favourable ; for God hath condescended to the lowest
terms that you can suppose not only an infinite majesty, but a prince, nay, an
inferior person oan condescend unto, in the case of the revolt of a subject or
servant. But the Scripture concludes the contrary, and therefore there must
be a new scripture, a new declaration of God to give you intelligence of any
design of God to reverse the sentence of this. When the law waa broke, he
made but one promiae of the seed of the woman, and all the other promiaea
in the word are but streams flowing, and channels cut, from this fountain ;
upon the breach of that law the Redeemer atood between consumfrig ven
geance and the law-offending creature, and God was wUling to repair the
breach of the first law by the grace of a second, and sent hia Son to cloae
the gap, and reunite him and his creature. But where is there any provision
made for the retrieving the final contempt of this ? No revelation of God
ever acquainted us with one counsel, or thought of God about it ; it is denied
by the mouth of our Saviour. If there were any other remedy, the wrath
due to the contempt of this would not abide; but because it abides, therefore
there is no remedy.

318 chabnock's woeks. [John III. 86.
To conclude this and the reat, a man oan expect no relief from any attri
bute of God. A man must have a bar put to it, either by justice or mercy :
by justice he cannot, because he despiseth that wherewith juatice was satisfied,
and puts from him that screen God placed between the flames of his wrath
and the fuel of a sinner ; by mercy he cannot, for he hath sinned against
the highest pitch bf it, and refused the terms wherewith mercy is contented.
The wisdom of God cannot relieve him, for he hath rejected that which was
the birth of an higher wisdom than ever was diacovered in the creation.
His wisdom is as much bound to keep up the honour of his justice and
truth, as the honour of his mercy. Shall he have it from patience?
Patience and longsuffering are not, in the very notion of them, eternal, but
temporary. Shall he fly to goodness ? Justice is a part of God'a goodness,
for he were not good if he were not righteous. The truth of God to such is
a very comfortless attribute, that turns the edge of all the .threateninga
againat him, who hath despised his veracity in his promise. Ia there any
more hopea in the power of God ? It ia that people frequently talk of, God ia
aufficient and able. It is true, he ia able to do more than any creature can
conceive. But though God hath a natural power, he hath not, we say, a
moral power after his word is past ; he would not be just if he used his
power against his truth ; as we would not count a man just who would do
that by strength which he could not do with honesty. The great reason of
men's security is their singling out one attribute of God, without consider
ing the concurrence and combination of the rest.
(7.) The law strengthens the sentence of the gospel against an unbeliever.
The moral law condemns every man that doth not believe what God reveals.*
We are to have no other gods before him, nor set up any graven image, nor
fancy any [other] way and means of salvation than what God hath ordained.
The gospel reveals the object of faith, the law then steps in and enjoins an
entertainment of it, because it is the revelation of God. Christ teUs the Jews
that Moses accused them : John v. 45, ' Do not think that I will accuse you
to the Father : there ia one that accuseth you, even Moses, in whom you
trust ;' i. e. there ia no need for me to charge you before God, you have one
whom you think is your defender, will be your accuser for not behering in
me. Moses, i. e. the law of Moses, meant properly of the ceremonies pre
figuring him, and the propheciea in the books of Mosea predicting him. But
the law, taken aingly for the law of nature, enjoina to believe whatsoever
God discovers ; and the condemnation of men for unbehef will be by the law
of nature, not as singly conaidered in itself, because it oan so condemn only
for the neglect of what it diacovers ; it doth not diacover Chriat the object
of faith, and therefore of itself cannot condemn for the neglect of Christ ; it
judgeth men only for the riolation of the immediate precepta of it, nor can
the conscience of the best heathen, that never heard of Christ, accuse him
for not inqufring after Christ, nor ever did, which doth accuse him for the
breach of those rules which are evident by the light of it. But it condemns
in concurrence with the goapel; when the object of faith ia discovered by
that, and the evidence appears to be of divine authority, the law of nature
urgeth the command to believe, both as we are bound to believe and obey
the supreme governor, and also to preserve ourselves. And as it strengthens
the command, so in the condemnation it strengthens the sentence. The law
is quickened and spfrited more by the goapel in its curses agamst an un
believer. He must needs be miserable, which is condemned by the law, for
the violation of its immediate precepta, and condemned by the law, in con
currence with the gospel, for the refusal of that.
* Burges, 'Vindiciai Legis, p. 262.

John III. 36.] the miseey of unbelievebs. 319
(8.) God hath discovered his anger more against this sin of unbehef than
any, both in his own children and in the Jews.
[1.] In his own children upon an act of unbelief Moses was barred out
of Canaan for one act of distrust of God ; and he whose prayers had pre
vailed for the reprieving a murmuring nation from destruction, was not heard
for himself because of his unbehef God refuaeth in the least to listen to
him, but commands him silence when he did but desire to go over Jordan to
see the good land : Deut. iii. 26, ' Let it suffice thee : speak no more to me
of this matter.' This resolution God backed with an oath, Deut. iv. 21.
The reason is expressed to be, ' because he beheved not God to sanctify him
in the eyes of the children of Israel,' Num. xx. 12. Mosea had not such a
firm faith but he did sometimes stagger at those great things which were
predicted to him. But thia act of diatruat being public, striking the rock
when he ahould have but spoken to it, might have encouraged the infidelity
of the people, to which they were prone enough, without the example of
their governor to support them in it. This unbelief of Moses kindled God's
anger against him. Before, God patiently bore all his excuses, when he firat
appointed him to deliver hia people larael, and answered hia pleas, Exod.
iii. 11, Exod. iv. 1, 10-12 ; but when after all he desfres God to stretch
out his own hand, as he had promiaed, — Exod. iii. 20, ' I will stretch out
my hand,' whioh is the meaning of Exod. iv. 13, ' Send by the hand of him
whom thou wilt send ; ' aend by that hand that thou wilt send or stretch
out ; stretch out this hand of thine, for the hand of man is not able to per
form it, wherein saith Dr Lightfoot,* he denied the mystery of redemption,
which was to be wrought by a man, the Godhead going along with him, 
upon this, ' the anger of the Lord waa kindled against him,' ver. 14. But
his unbelief still took ita progreas, in taking Zipporah and his children along
vrith him, which he would not have done in that condition, had he believed
the promise of God, Exod. iii. 12, that the people should come to that place
where he then was, in Midian, and serve God upon that mountain. Had he
believed that promise, he would have left them still with Jethro till his re
turn. For this distrust God sought to kill him, Exod. iv. 24, and not for
the delay of cfrcumcision, as some think, aince God bore with the Israelites
in the wildemess so long in the neglect of this ordinance, because of their
frequent travel. If a particular distrust of God doth so incense him againat
hia people, how must a goapel unbelief inflame him, which is a refusal or
neglect of his Son, and the riches of his grace in him ?
[2.] In the misery of the Jews. Why were they broken off from the
root ? Because of their unbelief, Rom . xi. 20. Not the crucifying of Christ,
which was but a fruit of this sin. Had they believed after that guilt of
blood, they had enjoyed the fraits of the mercy of God, by their faith in the
Redeemer. This was the sole reason their ancestors were shut out from the
typical Canaan. Not for their murmuring, idolatry, and multitude of pro
vocations, but for their unbelief, the root of the other sins ; no mention is
made of their other rebellions, this only is the ground of God's oath against
them : Heb. iu. 18, 19, ' So then we see that they could not enter in because
of unbelief What privileges had those people who are now cut off for this
sin ? They were chosen to be God's inheritance and portion, his vineyard,
his spouse ; he had ' chosen them above all people upon the face of the
earth, to be a special people unto himself,' Deut. vii. 6. ' Them he had
known of aU the famUies of the earth,' Amos iii. 2. He was their lawgiver
and their king, had nourished them in his bosom as a father, conducted
them into Canaan, prescribed them a peculiar form of worship, secured them
* Lightfoot's Gleanings on Exod. iv. 24.

320 chabnock's woeks. [John III. 86.
from their potent enemies round about them ; overturned Egypt for their
deliverance, ' gave Ethiopia for their ransom,' defeated the designs of thefr
enemies against them. When God sent enemiea to oppreas them for some
grievous crime committed against heaven, aa when they fell into idolatry, and
filled Jerusalem with the blood of the prophets, and for that were carried
captives to Babylon, yet after they repented and sought his face, he was
gracioua to them, repented him of the evil, restored them to their inherit
ance, rebuilt their temple, made their enemies to be their friends, provided a
succession of propheta to acquaint them with his will, yea, left them not
without prophets in the time of their greatest desolations. He had besides
this chiefly promised the Messiah to this nation, of the aeed of their fathers.
His first intention of sending him was to them : Mat. xv. 24, ' The word of
God was first to be spoken to them,' Acts xiii. 46. Christ did come of them
according to the fleah, lived among them, distilled his doctrine in person for
three years' space upon them, when he taught the Samaritana but two days,
John iv. 40, choae the apoatles out of that nation, that were to apread the
gospel over the world. But since they would not beheve in the Messiah,
neither by his own sermons, nor the sermons of the apostlea, their own land
hath spued them out. They are expoaed to the miseries of the world, the
derisions of men ; their temple, and with that their main worship destroyed.
And though they have sought him, in their manner, a longer term of
years than ever they were a people before tbe coming of Christ (they came
out of Egypt about the year of the world 2470, were destroyed about the
year 3990 ; so that there were about 1520 years from the time of their
coming out of Egypt to the destruction of Jerusalem), yet they have no voice
to relieve them, no prophetical message to comfort them, the face of God is
veiled from them, aa their hearts are veiled from him, no nation hath been
destroyed for them as before, but they are harassed by all, not tbe least
dawn of deliverance appearing to them. AU the covenants and agreements
made with their fathers seem at present to be cancelled; and from their
rejection, God took occasion to call the GentUes, and to engraft the wild
olives into the covenant of salvation. The destruction of their city waa
remarkable. God picked out one of the most merciful emperors that ever
awayed the Roman sceptre to be the instrument of his justice, rather than
some notorious tyrant steeped in blood, and fleshed with alaughtera, that the
puniahment might more evidently appear to be the hand of heaven, and not
the effect of the cruelty of man.* This heathen emperor took notice of the
anger of God agamst them, by many prodigies, so that he said, he feared
God would be angry with him, if he should spare them ; and when he
saw the blood spilt in Jerusalem, and the heaps of carcases, he hfted up
his eyea to heaven, calling God to witness, that it was none of his work and
design to have so much blood abed. Eleven hundred thouaand perished by
the sword and famine, ninety thousand were sold for slaves. Never was the
hand of God so heavy upon any people, as upon them, and thia for their
unbelief And whereas their other captivities were not above twenty, thirty,
or forty years in the book of Judges, and seventy years in Babylon, they
have now lain above one thousand six hundred years aa a forlorn and for
saken people : ' Wrath is come upon them to the utmost,' 1 Thes. ii. 16 •
he hath ' aet on fire the foundationa ofthe mountains,' and spent his arrows
upon them, Deut. xxxii. 22, 23. What did their adoption, their glory, the law,
the divine oraclea depoaited among them, the promises to the patriarchs profit
them, after their unbelief ? ' If God spared not the natural branches,' shaU
he spare the strange branches that believe not ? Rom. xi. 21. How sharp
* Fecinus, de Relig. Christian, cap. xxix. p. 51.

John III. 36.] the miseey of unbelievebs. 321
wiU his eternal wrath be upon the unbeliever, since his temporal wrath upon
the Jew hath been so dreadful ! He will ' pour out his indignation,' and
his wrathful anger shall take hold of them, Ps. Ixix. 24. Thia discourse
about the Jews proves our Saviour to be the Messiah, as well as the provo
cation of unbelief. This punishment must be for some grievous crime,
greater than the causes of their other captivities. After their return from
Babylon, they were not guUty of idolatry, or the slaughter of the prophets,
tiU Christ came, whom they used worse than any of the prophets that went
before him ; and all this ia come upon them, not simply for the crucifying
Christ, but not knowing or believing ' the things which concerned thefr-
peace,' Luke xix. 42. And they are in that destruction set forth as an
example of the eternal wrath of God upon all final undervaluers of Christ,
and -neglectera of the thinga that concern their peace, aa well aa Sodom and
Gomorrah in their temporal punishment, and destruction of their bodies by
fire from heaven, are set forth for an example, ' suffering the vengeance
of eternal fire,' Jude 7. In the Scripture there are always some things of
a greater and eternal concern couched under the historical part of it. Who,
in reading the story of Melchisedec' s coming to congratulate Abraham for
his victory, would have thought him to be so great a type of Christ, had not
David, Ps. ex., and after him the apostle, Heb. vii., informed ua of it? Who
would have regarded the destruction of Sodom, but as an effect of ^od's
temporal justice, had not the apostle here informed us of its being a type of
eternal fire ? In like manner this deplorable desolation of the Jews, is but
a type of the miserable destruction of unbelievers to eternity, whatever pri
vileges they might have enjoyed on earth, and howsoever dear to God they
might have imagined themselves.
2. Why doth final unbelief render a man infallibly the object of the wrath
of God ?
1. Because of the greatness of the sin. It is greater than any breach of
the covenant of worka can be.
(1 .) It is a more manifest enmity to God's govemment of the world. When
the covenant of worka was transgressed, God as the rector required satisfac
tion by death and blood, according to the tenor ofthe violated law, and as a
tender Father provided a surety to give a sufficient one, whereby to preserve
his own rights which had been invaded, and reheve his creature which had
been ruined. In not accepting the surety God had procured, we deny him
the honour of his aovereignty, and the restoration of the rights of his govern
ment. We count him unworthy of any satisfaction, maintain our rebellion
against him as justly grounded, and account ourselves innocent when we are
criminal, since we will not own the satisfaction he hath procured, as if no
satisfaction were due to him ; which muat imply that either we account our
selves no offendera, or God none of our governor, or that we are able to make him
a requital ourselves, which is also a contradiction to the rights of government,
since he hath an authority to appoint what satiafaction he pleaaeth, according
to the law which was settled by him, and broken by man. Since God pro
vided a surety for ua wherein he could acquiesce, he had a double right, both
as rector and benefactor, to appoint what conditions should be performed by
the creature before he should he admitted to the benefit of this charter he
had sealed by the blood of his Son. The not accepting these conditions ia
a manifest injury to him, as he is his governor, and a gracioua governor ;
because it ia against not only a sovereign command, but a command of grace.
It ia as much his command to us to believe, as not to commit murder and
adultery ; and the breaking this command speaks more of enmity to him than
VOL. IV. X

322 chabnock's wobks. [John III. 86.
the breaking the others. He hath settled it as an etemal law, and his fuU
resolve ' that aU men should honour the Son aa they honour the Father,'
John V. 23. That every man without exception should honour the Son in
the work of redemption, as the Father in the work of creation ; and ' he that
honoura not the Son honours not the Father which hath sent him.' He that
denies the honour of faith to Christ, denies the honour of homage and
fealty to God, and disparageth the government of his Father, who as rector
of the world appointed him, and under the same quality accepted him.
Christ is the immediate representative of God, the image of the glorious God.
The laws of God and the lawa of Christ are the same, Ps. ii. 3 ; the cords
and bands belong jointly to ' the Lord and his anointed ;' to reject the laws
of the one is to violate the authority of the other. What is done against the
representative is against the majesty of the person represented by him. The
Lord and his anointed can no more be separated in their authority than
they can in their essence. If the Father be in the Son and the Son in the
Father, John x. 88, tbe reproach cast upon the one redounds upon the other,
as well as the entertainment of the one is said to be the reception of the
other : Mat. x. 40, ' He that receivea me, receives him that sent me.' If
God pleads the cause of his servants, if those who rise againat Moses are
said to speak against God, Num. xri. 5, and the murmurings against him are
called the ' murmurings against the Lord,' Exod. xvi. 2, 7, and the rejecting
of Samuel was a rejecting the government of God, 1 Sam. viii. 7, can less be
aaid of the neglect of him whom God hath sent, not as a servant from a lord,
but a son from a father ? What greater evidence of a rooted enmity can
there be against the sovereignty of a prince, than after multitudes of rebellions,
tenders of gracious terms, a long series of invitations to accept of him, a
desire that they might be restored to the happiness they had forfeited ; after
all this not to be reduced to his sceptre ? The case ia the same with us :
God hath provided all means necessary to our restoration ; nothing is wanting
but our own concurrence with it. The enmity is greater, since there is no
failure on God's part, since he hath done more than he waa bound as a
creator to do, or had need to do ; and is it not just that obstinate rebels,
who will not observe the rules of his government, should fall under the rod of
his wrath ?
(2.) It is a high ingratitude. The transgression ofthe law was against the
authority and goodness of God ; thia against his authority, and against a
goodness of an higher elevation, springing up in bowels of compassion,
spreading its arms wider than in creation, and offering to confer a more ex
cellent and durable happinesa ; it is against the tenders of remission in the
blood of the Son of God, which in the first transgression man had no know
ledge of (for there waa nothing of grace mentioned in the first covenant).
And who will not judge it more criminal in itself to alight or neglect the grace
of a prince, in conjunction with hia authority, than to violate only the autho
rity of a prince in breaking his lawful and just command ? Would it not he
a crime worthy the indignation of all men, if twice, thrice, nay, innumerable
times, the sincerest tenders of the greatest good should be refused ? Who
would have compassion for auch a refractory person ? Is not unbelief
the more horrible crime in them who acknowledge Christ for the Son of
God, the mediator between God and them, whereby they are so far from
rendering it in the least manner excusable, that they highly aggravate it ?
[1.] Consider the greatness of the mercy. God prevented us by his love :
1 John iv. 10, ' Not that we loved God, but that he loved us, and sent hia
Son to be the propitiation for our sina ;' procured a surety for us, who valued
our redemption above the pleasure of the body he assumed, and appointed

John III. 36.] the miseey of unbelievebs. 323
him for us when we had a desire to persist in our rebellion, not only after
we had offended him, but when we were in actual offences stUl against him :
Rom. V. 8, ' when we were yet sinners ;' not only when we had sinned, but
when we were still adding one crime to another ; and this aurety hath ex
pended hia treasures to purchase our deliverance, hath submitted to death
to prevent our suffering of it ; he hath ' abolished death, and brought life and
immortality to light through the gospel, 2 Tim. i. 10. He destroyed death,
that had a power over us by the immutable sentence of the law, took away
the right it had, despoiled the law of its power to condemn us, by condemning
sin by the effusion of hia blood on the cross, whereby the law had acquired a
right of condemning us, and discovered the way to an immortal life, which
we were estranged from by the darkness of sin, brought a message of peace
from the bosom of the Father, whereby we might be eternal gainers. It is
such a free mercy, that, if it had not been manifested, not God but we should
have been the only losers. No mercy like it, no mercy oan exceed it, no
other mercy can equal it. ' So God loved the world that he sent his only
begotten Son,' John iii. xvi ; a so beyond expression, a so beyond imagina
tion ; nothing can surpass it but the sending him again to suffer ; and thia
only would be in cfroumstantials of repetition, not in the essentials and nature
of the mercy.
[2.] From hence measure the greatness of the ain. The height, depth,
length, and breadth of the mercy is the only rule to measure the dimensions
of the ain against it by. The stronger and louder the bowels of mercy are
which are slighted, the greater and blacker is the sin of despising him. The
goodness of God in procuring, and the grace of God in accepting, a surety,
are denied by this sin. Every act of it contemns the proviaiona of grace
and contentmenta of justice, the attendances of patience, the tendernesa of
bowels, and the satisfactory blood of the Son of God. Is it not a strange
carriage that when God is so merciful to offer remission, man should be so
obstinate as to refuse it, and would rather die in his sin, hateful to God, and
miserable for himself, than live by the Son of God, so acceptable to God and
beneficial to man ; and when, besides the outward preaching of the gospel,
there have been, by the common grace of the Spirit, aome inward atirrings
and approbation of the terms, which yet have vanished into a non-compliance ?
The frequenter those motions, the greater the ingratitude added to the debts
of all other sins contracted before. This unthankfulness for such a benefit
is alleged as the cause of men's condemnation : John iu. 10, ' When light
is come into the world, men love darkness rather than light.' When God
hath provided a way to remove the guilt of their sins, the world will not part
with the pleasure and profit of their sins. Can there be a baser requital
than to be a partner with Judas in betraying him, with Pilate in condemn
ing him, with the Jews in crucifying him ? What do we else but approve
of all the barbarous uaage he met with from the Jews, when we despise his
authority in his evangelical command, refuse his person in his gracious
proffers, and undervalue his sufferings by not applying them ?
Is not then a dreadful punishment of thia sin very righteous ? By the
law of nature, the greater kindness a creature receives, the greater punish
ment he doth deserve if he prove ungrateful. Since gospel grace exceeds all
the benefits of creation, it is reasonable that the neglects of it should be at
tended with the greater punishment. When men will refuse the acceptance
of it, and conformity to the will of God, which can only fit them for true
happinesa, a fuller measure of wrath ia due to them that shght the fullest
expense of mercy. Justice would not be justice if it used not them with the
greatest severity that abuse grace with the greatest indignity : what is

324 chabnock's woeks. [John III. 36.
greatest in the rank of sina, deaerves the greatest misery in the rank of
penalties. The greater benefit ia conferred, the greater guilt is contracted
by the neglect, aud a atronger subjection to punishment in the order of
justice. If it be a crime deserving a se-v'Sre reflection to outrage an innocent
person that never did us wrong, it is much more to spurn at a person who
hath laid the foundation of our greatest good, and offereth that good to us
upon the easiest terms. Such a carriage to a prince would be a greater in
dignity ; how inconceivable a crime ia it then against the King of kings, the
Lord of glory, God blessed for ever, under all those inexpressible circum
stances of innocence in his person, fiames in his affection, kindness to the
laat drop of blood, and continued patience in waiting for our receiving the
atonement ! The rebeUion of all other sins is wrapped up in thia : John xv.
22, ' If I had not come and spoken unto them, they had not had ain ;' so
fhe gall of all other miseries is distilled into the punishment due to it. It ia
fit the furnace of wrath should be heated, to answer the flames of love which
have been shooting towards them.
[8.] It is a ain against a clearer and fuller light and undeniable revelation.
The gospel hath been fii'st published by the Son of God in person, spread
over the world by hia apostlea and their successors as the commissioners of
Christ, entertained by multitudes in all ages since, transmitted to us in
writing, delivered down to us by the contentions of our ancestors fbr the faith
and the blood of martyrs. Nothing we believe in the world but it is upon
less reason than we have to beheve thia. The belief of other things, for which
we have little reaaon, and in some no reason, will aggravate our unbehef of
those great things for which we have so much reason.
(1.) Heathens have had a less hght, and abused it, and shall not escape
punishment. This way of argument the apostle useth,* Rom. i. 16-19,
to assure unbelievers ,of a dreadful vengeance. Though the design of
the gospel be nothing but righteousness, life, and salvation to the believer,
yet it breathes as mucjh -wrath against the neglecter as it doth happiness to
the embracer ; and without any charge of injustice upon God. For others
who had a less light than that of the gospel, which discovered to them the
power and eternity of God, it rendered them without any apology for them
selves. The closing their eyes against that natural light, or abusing of it,
and keeping natural truth in unrighteousness, i.e. lying in their sins against
all the beama of light from the creation, will subject them to eternal punish
ment. The heathena had nothing but the dim light of nature, the effiuxes
of divine patience ; but they could not read tbe covenant of grace in the mo
tions of the heavens and orderly seasons of the year ; they could not be
hold the Sun of righteousness in the material eun in the firmament ; the
heavens discovered the glory of a creator, but not the grace of a redeemer ;
there were characters of divine wisdom and power in the frame of the world,
but nothing of his grace and pardoning mercy ; therefore they are not con
demned for not believing in Christ, since a mediator was not made known
to them. They were bound to no more than Adam was ; but Adam was not
bound to believe a supernatural mystery till God had revealed it : and it
cannot be expected that they, who never had an account of Christ, should be
lieve in him. ' How can they believe in him of whom they have not heard?'
Rom. X. 14 ; and if they be under an impossibility of believing for want of a
revelation, how can they be condemned for not believing? But the sentence
against them is grounded upon their despising the voice of the works of
nature, the common mercy of God, and his patience manifested in them,
whereby he called them to some reflection upon themselvea, and repentance
* 'Wren contra Catech, Macov. sec. xxxvii. parag. 4.

John III. 36.] the miseey of unbelie-vebs. 825
for their iniquities. Since the law of nature was given man as a rule in
creation,* they shall be examined whether they have done the thinga agree
able to the law written in their conscieneea, and they shall be judged accord
ing to the several measurea of the light of reason which they had ; for it
cannot be supposed that the barbarous nations that lived in a thick darkness,
and had not the advantage of a polite and learned education to improve their
reasons, shall have the same measure of judgment vrith those who had the
waterings and dreaaings of a sounder education. (But neither one nor the
other shall be judged according to the gospel, which exacts faith in the Re
deemer). And according, to this rule, not a man of them can escape ; and if
it were the only rule to try all men by, not a man, from Adam to the laat
that shall be born upon the earth by natural generation, can avoid the just
condemnation of God, beeause not a man of them but hath, one way or other,
and that several times, transgressed that law ; for all are become guilty
before God.
(2.) The Jews have had a less light than those under the gospel, though
clearer than that of tbe heathens, and upon the abuse of thia they shall not
escape. The Jews who died before the coming of Chriat, ahall be tried ac
cording to the law of nature expressed in the decalogue, and that particular
law of ceremonies given to them, wherein the Mediator was veiled. The
Jews had the gospel printed in types and aUegories, wrapped up in the pillar
of a cloud ; Christ waa not come in the flesh, nor the Spirit poured out upon
the world ; they could not see the beauty of a redeemer for the smoke of
their sacrifiioes, nor have a full prospect of his face through the grates and
lattices of the ceremoniea. There were also different measures of light
among them, which may mitigate the condemnation of some, but not be a
sufficient bar against a sentence of death. f For those of the Jewish reli
gion, that did not believe in thoae promises or prophecies of the Messiah, in
the time of the first entrance into Canaan, shall not have so great a punish
ment aa those that lived after, when clearer prophecies were added. All
judgment ahall be according to the measure of hght afforded ; according to
the measure of it, God expects a suitable return ; for ' to whomsoever much
is given, of them shall much be required,' Luke xii. 48. Nor shall those
that died in the wildemesa, or first entered into Canaan, have ao hght a
sentence as those of the old world, with whom the Spfrit of Christ strove,
but upon the account of one single promise given to Adam ; whereas the
other had an increase of promises to Abraham, deUverances to themselves,
an addition of types to represent the things promised, and the intention of
them, to their eyea, which were atronger and more unanswerable grounds
upon which the Spirit did strive with them in those times. Those of the
Jews who had the least hght of revelation, shall have a smarter punishment
than the heathens, who had the strongest light of nature ; ' Tribulation and
anguiah upon every soul of man that doth evil, of the Jew first, and alao of
the Gentile,' Rom. ii. 9. As the Jew had the priority in privileges, so he
shall have in the anguish prepared for the wicked. And many of them in
the days of Chriat in the fleah neglected him, not ao much wilfully aa out of
ignorance, and prejudicate opiniona of a conquering Messiah. If they could
escape upon the witness of Paul, or rather upon the witness of the Holy
Ghost, they should find rehef ; Paul would not deny his own writing, nor the
Holy Ghost his own inditing: 1 Cor. ii. 8, 'Had they known it, they would not
have crucified the Lord of glory ;' no, nor Christ his own testimony upon the
¦* Amyraut, in symbol. Apostolic, p. 222, changed.
t Amyraut. in symbol. Apostolic, p. 226.

326 chabnock's woeks. [John III. 86.
cross, that they knew not what they did, Luke xxiii. 84. But can we caU
the Holy Ghost or the Redeemer to witness for us, if we beheve not ?
(3.) We have a clearer light than any of them had. It was indeed by
his own Son that God spoke to the Jews, Heb. i. 2, but he did but begin to
speak it ; the stronger confirmations were afterwards by the gifts of the Holy
Ghost poured out upon men : Heb. ii. 3, 4, ' God bearing witness from
heaven ' to the truth of his doctrine. We have the light of nature to answer
for, we are bound to this aa much aa the heathen ; they had no more of the
light of nature than we have ; the Jew had less understanding of the cere
monies than we have, they saw the types, and we have the manifestation of
the substance, we have Christ in a plain letter and fairer print. We have
the light of heathens, the hght of the Jews, and a glorious light superadded
to both those.
Now, it is according to this light God doth proportion the punishment of
unbelievera under the gospel. The judgment, according to the apostle,
respects two sorts of persons : 2 Thes. i. 8, ' Those that know not God,'
and those ' that obey not the gospel of our Lord Jesus Christ.' The
heathena that knew not God, when they had light enough in the creation to
know him : and they that obey not the gospel, whether veiled or open ; as
veUed, it takes in the Jews before Christ; as open, it comprehends all to
whom the gospel is preached. The question shaU be asked such persons,
whether they did believe in the name of the Son of God as the only mediator ;
and those that ahall be convinced of a final unbehef, or disobedience to the
evangelical declarations, shall incur the more grievous condemnation, be
cause to the transgression of the law of nature, wiU be added over and above,
the transgression of a special command of God, respecting their recovery.
According to the rule of justice it must exceed the condemnation of the rest ;
since they have hved in the bosom of the church, and besides the neglect of
that common to them with the heathen, have rejected the mediator made
known to them, and not to the heathen. If the light of the darkest of them
be aufficient to convict them before God without any excuse, much more
must the hght, revealed by the word, aggravate the guilt of men that close
their eyes against it. They have not only the discoveries of God in nature,
but the discoveries of God in grace, to anawer for. The more excellent the
truth is that is disobeyed, the greater the sinfulness of the disobedience ;
Hosea viii. 12, ' I have written to him the great things of my law, but they
were accounted as a strange thing.' If the choicest revelation that God ever
made, did not aggravate the punishment, why should the apostle say,
2 Peter ii. 21, ' It had been better for them not to have known the way of
righteousness,' if they were in the same condition, wherein they were before
they knew it ? But how reasonable and righteous is the misery of those
who have not only had the outward declarationa of the gospel, but some
common illumination of their minds, some motions of the Spirit, some
approbations of the doctrine ? If Paul had mercy because his unbelief was
in ignorance, what mercy can they expect whose unbelief is with knowledge ?
1 Tim. i. 13. Not that his ignorance deserved a pardon, for who can ascribe
any merit to ignorance ? The crucifying of Christ, the most horrid wicked
ness that ever the world saw, heaps not that guilt upon men whose hands
were red with his blood, that unbelief doth upon men, who in opinion pre
tend to acknowledge him. The crime of the one was extenuated by their
ignorance, and the crime of the other aggravated by their knowledge, as
also, by the frequency of the impressions made upon them by the word.
Well, then, if heathena shall be condemned, who had only the material
heavens, and the sensitive, and insensitive creatures upon the earth preach-

John III. 36.] the miseey of unbelievebs. 327
ing to them, who had only God in his works, and the Jews who had God
speaking„to them in legal ceremoniea, what will become of thoae who have
had the voice of God, Chriat, and redeeming blood calling to them in the
word, and neglected all ?
(4.) This sin ia a refusal of the only way of expiation of sin. When the
law was violated, a relief was provided in the gospel. Because the law
uttered not one syllable of forgiveness, the tranagression of the law was not
an offence against pardoning mercy, as the unbelief of the gospel is. This
relieving mercy could not have appeared in the world in a contradiction to
the justice of God ; this, to speak according to the manner of men, would
have made a war in the dirine nature, without the sacrifice of the Son of
God in our nature. For because he assumed not the nature of angels, the
fallen spirits are exposed to the rigours of justice, without any relief of mercy.
If Adam had truly repented of his crime, he could not have obtained pardon
without the satisfaction of the law, which was as sUent in the command of
repentance, aa it was in the declaration of a pardon. When, therefore, there
is a remedy provided, and no other remedy but this, nor can be any other
remedy ; since no valuable sacrifice can be imagined for the taking away of
sin but this, those that neglect it, render themselves uncapable of security,
by shutting themselves out of the only refuge. In all human contracts, a
promise is only received * by assenting to and believing it. Though some
thing may be taken from a man unwUhng to part with it, yet nothing can be
given to a man unwilling to accept it ; what right soever is transferred by
the donor in a way of promise, is eatitbliahed by the other's assenting to it.
If a prince promises a courtier a gift upon the performance of easy condi
tions, and he wiU not beheve the word of the king, nor perform the reason
able conditions, the promise is not only void in itself, but the prince justly
offended with his behaviour. Had the terms of the covenant been very hard,
provided they had not been impossible, the damnation had been juat had
they been wilfully neglected ; but they are as reasonable as can be : repent
ance and faith. Is it not fit the justice of God should be acknowledged in
its equity, and the holfriess of God in ita beauty, by a sensibleness of our
crimes ; his grace in its freeness, by an acceptance of its provision ; and his
sovereignty acknowledged by the payment of an homage to him ? Who
would not count that rebel a sufferer by double justice who refuseth the
pardon of his great rebeUions, which he might have only for the acceptance
of it, a sensibleness of his offence, and a sincere promise of his utmost
service ? They are such reasonable conditions, that the honour of God, as
weU as the honour of a prince, would not be provided for, or have a salvo
without them. If men wiU sell themselves to the slavery of a condemned
sin, and a conquered devil, they can charge none with boring their ears to a
perpetual misery, but their own folly. He that wUl choose to die by the sting
of a fiery serpent, rather than live by the sight of the brazen one, can impute
his ruin to no other but himself
Christ hath made an expiation for sin, quenched the flaming sword that
stopped the entrance into paradise. If men will not set their feet in that
way, nor make any inquiries after it ; if they cast behind their back aU ex
hortations to it, and never consider them in their mmda, upon whom can
they charge their destruction but upon themselves ?
If a man be in love with his misery, and wiU not stoop to him that would
relieve him ; if he prefer his guUt before the expiation, his deplorable con
dition before a Saviour, his filthiness before a righteouaness, it is juster that
he should perish by the sin he chose, than be happy by a Saviour he refused.
* Illyric, defide, p, 125. seot. xxxi.

328 chabnock's woeks. [John III. 36,
His own act is in the nature of a confession of the equity of God's sentence,
since God hath linked the gospel and everlasting life so close together that
the one cannot be received or refused without the other. They ' judge them
selvea unworthy of everlasting life,' by ' putting away the gospel' from them.
Acts xiii. 46. He tacitly declares that he would rather have God angry with
him than pacified, when he refuseth the only means of a reconciliation.
And the justice of his punishment ia evident by the value of the propitiation
which he refuseth, it being that which was the salvation of all the ancient
believers before the oblation of the sacrifice, valuable enough to be the sal
vation of devila ; that which was so prevalent with God in our Saviour's
first consent to it, aa to turn the tribunal of justice into a throne of grace ;
that blood which, sprinkled upon the soul, can turn the edge of the angel's
destroying sword ; that pure and apotleas sacrifice which is the feast of God
in heaven, which is daily presented to him by our Saviour in his office of
advocacy, 1 John ii. 1, 2. Can there be less justice than to inflict damna
tion upon those who wilfully neglect that which hath been the only way for
the salvation of milliona, and might be efficacious for theirs, if they would
accept of it upon God'a terms ? Nay, they impose upon themselves a neces
sity of damnation, who cast away the means of salvation. How can his chains
be knocked off, that alighta redemption ? How can he be waahed, that stops
by his infidelity the blood of Christ from flowing out upon him ? What
disease can be healed, if the only proper remedy for it be not applied ? Is
not he as much guilty of hia own death, that rejects a medicine, teara a plaster
off from his wounds, as he that cuts, his own throat with a knife ? They
have but the fruits of their own wilfulness, and must at last subscribe to the
equity of God's judgment, because the desert of it was thefr own choice.
3. What kind of misery thia is.
f It is
1. Inevitable. The end of the enemies of the cross of Christ is destruc
tion, PhU. iii. 18. The righteous hath a 'sure reward,' Prov. xi. 18; the
unrighteous must have as sure a puniahment: 'perishing from the way' is
the absolute issue of the ' kindling of hia wrath,' Pa. ii. 12. Death will
certainly enter in at that door ; there ia no more possibility of escape than
for a man mortally wounded in a vital part to avoid death entering in at his
wound. Every man must render an account before the judgment seat of
Christ. Shall men render an account of their time, wealth, the abuse of
the faculties of their souls, and members of their bodies ? and shall they
not as certainly render an account of that which is more precioua than all
these : the grace of God, and the blood of Christ offered to them and injured
by them ? Is there any shelter from the all-seeing eye of God, in the caves
of the deep or under the mountains of the world ? Poor Adam sought it in
the thicketa of paradise, but was forced to come out at the call, ' Adam, where
art thou ? ' Gen. iu. 9, 10. What refuge can be imagined ? The covenant
of grace is the oity of refuge against the pursuit of the covenant of worka ;
that is our hope under our fetters for the breachea of the law, Heb. yi. 18.
Where can we fix an anchor of hope to secure ourselves from the storms of
this ? The apostle puts the question indeed, ' How shall we escape, if we
neglect so great salvation ? ' Heb. ii. 3. But the resolution of it waa above
hia invention ; he knew not one tittle of encouragement in the whole book
of God, though no man better acquainted with it. What do I speak of the
apostle ? The Holy Ghost himself, who indited what the apostle did write,
knew none. The transgressions of the law subject men to a desert of
condemnation ; but this sin exposeth men to a neceaaity of damnation,
since aU the methods of God for procuring remission have been rendered

John III. 86.] the miseey op unbelievebs. 829
useless by the refuaal of that merit that purchased it, and that mercy that
appointed and offered it. When justice condemns in the law, a hberty of
appeal is reserved to mercy in the gospel ; if mercy in the gospel condemns for
want of the conditions neceasary to the enjoyment, what reserve is left ? No
way of relief but by injustice, which is not to be found in the divine nature.*
After man had wounded himself, and sunk down at the feet of the law, a
promise was clapped in as a plaster ; but is there a syllable in the whole
Scripture of any other remedy ? It never yet thought of any other security ;
God never revealed any other for the repair of hia own honour, which
Buffered by sin ; and why should the creature imagine any other for his own
recovery ? Yes ; but we know not but God may have a reserve in his own
counsel. Certainly men that pretend to believe the gospel must have some
such conceit ; they could not else be such desperate enemies to themselves
as not to labour after a thorough work of faith. But would any but a pro
digiously mad man run the hazard of such a conceit ? What footing can
such an imagination have after all God's declarations to the contrary ? If
the lawa of a king threaten an unavoidable punishment for a crime, would
not that man be a bedlam that would venture the transgression of it upon
hopes of a reserve, when he finda not a syllable in the law for such an
encouragement, but the whole design to the contrary ? Necessity of atate
sometimes ia a bridle to restrain tbe punishment of an offender ; but the eter
nal order of God ia so constituted that there can be no necessity upon him, for
the advantage of heaven or earth, to remit the punishment of a final unbeliever.
Consider, [I.J It is a God who hath passed his word. God never speaks but he in
tends to perform ; his words shall stand before men's imaginations of security ;
his conditions he will not alter. He cannot save such men ; his oath stands in
the way ; his repeated declarations are a bar against it. What greater obli
gations than an oath, and the oath of God, which is a swearing by himself ?
and as sure as I am God, and as sure as I live, I will do such a thing ? Shall
God deny his own deity for a rebel's security ? Heb. iii. 18, 'To whom aware
he that they ahould not enter into his rest, but to them that believed not ? '
They shall not enter into a goapel atate, to have the benefits of Christ, who is
the rest of God. Since the Scripture is written for our instruction, it concerns
every man in a state of unbelief, and assures them, if it be final, they shall
not set a foot within the gates of heaven. God never passeth his oath but
to confirm what he ia resolutely bent to perform ; he swears to the promises,
that the believers may have strong consolation ; he swears to the threaten
ing, that unbelievers may have dismal apprehensions. Some humbled souls
think God is not ao merciful as he declares ; he swears to expel their doubts.
Presumptuous persona think God ia not ao just ; he swears to expel their
vain conceits. This sin ties up, as it were, the hands of an omnipotent
mercy from aaving auch a one. The apostle intimates that God is not able
to save without faith (Rom. xi. 23, ' If they bide not still in unbelief they
shall be grafted in, for God is able to graft them in again'), in asserting that
God is able to graft the Jews in upon their faith. God is not morally able
to do anything against his word and settled methods of his grace ; and because
God hath pasaed hia word, and denounced those judgments which he executes,
he ia said to alay men ' by the word of his mouth and the breath of his lips,'
Isa. xi. 4 ; and the sharp sword wherewith he smites the nations goes out of
the mouth of Chriat, Rev. xix. 15.
[2.] God hath promised to take the punishment of final unbelievers into
his own hands. The revenge of injuries done by one man to another belongs
* Whom oil and balsam kill, what salve can cure ? — Herbert.

380 chabnock's wobks. [John III. 36.
to God, and he wUl recompense them ; the vengeance of injuries done to
his Son doth aa much belong to him. He values the obedience of Christ
in his death too high to suffer men to slight it without the recompence of a
certain indignation ; and who can avoid the recompence he wiU inflict ?
Heb. X. 80, 31. What sanctuary can there be against the wrath of an aU-
knowing God, who hath promised Christ to take the work into his own hands,
and be the destroyer of all his enemies ? Ps. xc. 1, ' Sit thou on my right
hand, until I make thy enemiea thy footstool.' He wiU employ aU his power
against them. This power is ascribed here to the Father, not that the
Son is unable to conquer his enemiea, but to shew hia mighty affection to
the office of prieathood he had settled hia Son in, and hia reaolution to
maintain the rights of it, and revenge any indignity offered to it; also
because acts of power are aacribed to the Father, as acts of wiadom to the
Son. God cannot be true to his Son, nor true to himself having passed his
word to hia Son, and published that word to us, unless he puniahed unbe
lievers. This is part of the honour God intends him, wherein he will take
pleasure, as well as in seeing him sit gloriously at his right hand ; and this
he had assured men of before, that he would require exactly an account of
their refusal to listen to the words of the great prophet which should speak
in his name.* And lest any think that, though it be unavoidable, if they faU
into the hands of the living God, yet they may have some shelter from his
fury ; no, the right hand of God, his hand of strength and power, shaU find
out the enemies of Christ in their most secret recesses : Ps. xxi. 8, ' Thy
hand shall find out all thy enemies, thy right hand shall find out them that
hate thee ; ' none shall escape the being hurled into a fiery oven by the power
of his hand. The psalm was anciently applied by the Chaldee paraphrast to
the King Messiah. Who can rescue the aoul that ia grasped in the wrathful
hand of God ? What champion can keep off tho blow, unleaa it be one that
can match God in strength and power ? Nor will God be diverted by the
cries of obstinate rebels, when he waa not persuaded by the strong cries and
prayers of Christ to take the cup of aufi'ering out of his hand.
Besides, though Christ be clad in his priestly garments, he hath ' feet like
brass, as if they burnt in a furnace,' heavy and hot to trample upon his
enemies, Rev. i. 13, 15 ; he hath ' eyea like a flame of fire ' to find them,
and ' feet like brass ' to crush them ; so that upon all accounts the misery
is unavoidable. The coiadition of the heathens renders them inevitably
miserable ; for, being ' without Christ,' they are ' without hope,' Eph. u. 12.
Faith in the promise is the foundation of the hope of blessedness ; no free
dom without it from the sentence of death to which the law hath adjudged
us ; no freedom from the spiritual death which sin hath engendered in us.
It is as inevitable aa the miaery of devila ; they perish because they have no
mediator, and men perish because they will not receive a mediator.
2. Speedy misery. As Christ is a swift help, so he is declared to be a
' swift witness ' againat the unrighteousneaa of men, Mai. iii. 5. God is
quick in his judgments where the gospel is contemned ; the black, red, and
pale horse — plague, war, and famine — followed the heels of the white horse,
to cut off them that would not be conquered by the rider on it. Rev. vi. 2, 4,
5, 8. God is more quick and severe in his justice under the gospel than
before ; the former times before the exhibition of Christ were the times of '
God's patience, wherein ' God winked at the times of ignorance ; but if his
command of repentance and faith be neglected, nothing is to be expected but .
a severe judgment. Acts xvii. 80, 31. As he hath revealed his righteousness .
' from faith to faith,' so he hath ' revealed his wrath from heaven,' Rom. i. .
* Deut, xviii. 19, tJ'TIK, I will diligently require it; ''33N, I myself.

John IIL 36.] the miseey op unbelievebs. 331
17, 18. When he made a promise ofthe effusion of his Spirit in the times
of the gospel, Joel ii. 28, 29, he couples with it a threatening of judgments
as the fruit of the contempt of the gospel : ver. 30, 31, ' I will shew won
dera in the heavens, and in the earth, blood and fire, and pillara of amoke,
before the day of the Lord,' i.e. from the time of the pouring forth the Spirit,
and the contempt of his grace, there ahall be a confusion in all parts of the
world where the gospel ia contemned, and that in a constant auccession till the
great day of the Lord. We may know to what cause to ascribe the turning of
the sun into darkness, and the moon into blood in a nation. The same reason
of the speediness of judgment holda in the case of a particular peraon ; whoso
ever ' bears thorns and briers, is nigh unto cursing,' Heb. vi. 8. The good
earth is said to be blessed by God ; but the bad earth ia not said to be
cursed, that we may not despair, but ' nigh to cursing,' that we may hasten
our fruitfulness. It cannot be long before the power of God will vindicate
hia injured mercy, and deliver men up into the hands of justice, to answer
for the violations of his law and contempt of his grace. The time of God's
waiting is bounded in narrow limits. The life is a short vapour, which
appears a while and quickly vanisheth. What are a few days or years —
yea, or Methuselah'a age — to keep off the plague which shall last for ever ?
Unconceivably less than a grain of sand, compared with the whole mass of
heaven and earth, if pounded into dust.
8. Sharp misery. It abides ; the first wound ia not so smart as a constant
gnawing of a vulture. Aa the apoatle could imagine no way to eacape it, so
he could not imagine any way to express it: Heb. x. 29, 'Of how much
sorer punishment ? ' He leaves it to every man's fancy to screw it to the
highest. So sore, that the malefactor shall feel it without being able to
declare the .torture of it. And thus Peter leaves it to men to imagine, since
he waa unable to expresa it : 1 Peter iv. 17, 18, ' What shall the end be of
those that obey not the gospel?' and 'where shall the ungodly and sinnera
appear ? ' We can no more conceive the terror of the wrath due to this,
than we can conceive the grandeur of that love which has been abused, and
the dignity of the person of his Son which is injured by it. The most
scorching receptacles in that fiery oven seem to be reserved for unbelievers :
Luke xii. 46, ' The Lord shall appoint him his portion with the unbelievers.'
A vengeance is due to such, Heb. x. 30, which is not a simple punishment,
but one with rigour. It knows no mitigation ; not a drop of a water will be
allowed to temper the devouring flame. Hell would rather solicit for a
further addition of wrath to one that despised the only begotten of the
Father ; a man's own conscience will tell him it is rather below than above
his demerit. Though the punishment of sin againat the law was a separa
tion from God, yet this separation may admit of degrees ; one may be fur
ther cast from God than another, into the depths and lowest dungeon of
heU. The young man was in a nearness to the kingdom of heaven, yet not
in it, but in a state of ahenation from God.
(1.) God takes the /punishment of such into his own hand. God wiU be
a ' consuming fire,' Heb. xii. 29. Ffre is the sharpest of all the elementa,
insinuates into every part of combustible matter, and the wrath of God into
every part of the soul ; it devours with an invincible force whatsoever it lays
hold on. Though God be full of goodness and mercy to them that believe,
yet he ia like a conauming fire to thoae that scorn the covenant of hia Son ;
and with no less, but much more, fury will he consume the slighters of that,
than he did the despisers of theiold administration. This sin puts God upon
the discharging aU his fury. The breath of his mouth, that before invited
men, shall blow the fire : Isa. xxx. 33, ' The breath of the Lord, as a stream

832 chabnock's wobks. [John III. 36.
of brimstone, doth kindle it.' It is not a simple punishment, but wrath
abidea, the wrath of an infinite God, infinitely understanding to invent, and
of infinite power to inflict the bitterest pains ; which must be more sharp
than any in thia life, becauae all the bara of patience which atopped the
overflowing scourge, and the long-suffering of God upon the account of the
mediation of Christ, shall abstain from any further exerciae. It must be as
sharp as justice armed with infinite power can render it, according to the
capacity of the subject. What cannot Omnipotence do ? As when the cove
nant is received, God is our God in the employment of his infinite perfectiona
for us ; so when the covenant is outraged, God is our judge in the employ
ment of hia infinite perfections against us. Patience ahall not stir a finger,
mercy will look contemptibly* upon them. When the firat covenant was
broke, justice puniahed and mercy relieved ; when the second is finally
despised, justice infiicta the punishment, and mercy contemns the sufferer.
That mercy which called them will laugh at thefr calamity, Prov. i. 24, 26,
27, 28. It is not vindictive justice, but tender mercy, which calls men to
repentance. It ia not vindictive justice men will seek in their distresses,
but pity and compassion from their judge. But that attribute whereby God
stretched out his hand in kindneas, that attribute which men in their anguish
wUl call upon for relief will not only be speechless, but mock, when their
fear comes. As justice joina hands with mercy in the pardon of a believer,
upon the satisfaction of Christ, so mercy will join hands with jitstice for the
punishment of an unbeliever that either spurns at it or neglects it. Justice
shall hurl them in, and mercy roll the stone upon the mouth of hell. Mercy
will mock them, and mocking is none of the lightest ingredients in the pun
ishment of a malefactor. How heavy must that condemnation be, whioh is
pronounced by a mercy turned into fury ! Since God infiicts it, the pun
ishment for the neglect of his grace wUl be suited to that joy he had in the
effusions of it. We may measure his anger against the rehels by the delight
he had in hia Son for undertaking the work of redemption, and the joy he
expressed upon his performing it. No greater honour could be bestow upon
his return to heaven than the seating him at his right hand, giving him power
over all the angels, more terrible judgments than must fall upon them that
despise the priesthood of Christ, so acceptable to God, which shall, by the
decree of God, like Aaron's rod, the type of it, flourish for ever.
(2.) It will be suited to the greatness of what hath been contemned. Aa
much as the covenant excels the other in grace and glory, so much shall the
vengeance for the despising it exceed the punishment due to the transgres
sion of the other. A heinous sin deserves intolerable plagues. Sins against
the light of nature are of a meaner tincture than thoae against the gospel.
There was a death without mercy for the transgression of the law of Moses,
Heb. X. 28, composed only of the shadowa of this ; must there not then be
an addition of vengeance to those that make light of the substance ? The
punishment in order of juatice must be auited to the greatness ofthe crime.
As it is a total injustice to let a crime pass with impunity, so it is a partial
injustice to let it pass with a punishment less than it merita. The dignity
of the person injured, the Son of God, and God in him, greatena the crime,
and consequently the punishment. With what an infelicity muat such an
indignity to God be attended ! We are not only to answer to justice for the
violations of an holy law, but the expense of a tender mercy. And if an
offence against God, as the author of our being, deserves at the hands of an
infinitely offended majesty a just recompence of reward, much more must
the rejecting the tenders of his grace, whereby as a fountain of goodness he
* That is, ' contemptuoBsly.' — Ed.

John III. 36.] the miseey op unbelievebs. 833
would send forth richer streams of happinesa than at the creation. We
abuse that which we had not the least right to demand, nor God the least
obligation to give. Some things the nature of God obligeth him unto. God
might choose whether he would create man ; but when he resolves to create
a rational creature, the holiness of God obligeth him to create him holy.
He may choose whether he would make a covenant of grace ; but when he
hath made it, hia nature wUl not permit him to start from it. God might
choose whether he would offer grace ; and therefore the freer the grace, the
blacker the abuse of it, and the sorer the punishment due to it. As there
were liberal ahowers of grace, there shall be fuller vials of wrath ; as grace
to the utmost, so wrath to the brim. The devil, who had not the least share
of created wisdom, by his abuse of it, rendered himself most accursed ; and
men by the abuse of grace, render themselvea moat abhorred by God. As
where sin hath abounded grace is sweeter, so where grace hath abounded,
and is not received, wrath is sharper, and the heat of wrath is proportioned
to the flame of love. And as it is against the greatest mercy, so it is against
a greater evidence of God's holiness and justice in the death of his Son.
The end of the death of Chriat was that 'God might shew himself just ;'
Rom. in. 26, 'that he might be just,' i.e. known to be just. Now, after
this public discovery of his justice, this sin is a daring his justice more than
any sin under the law. Then there waa only a verbal declaration of the
justice of God ; but in the death of Christ, the highest sensible demonstra
tion of it to the aona of men.
(3.) It wUl be suited to the exceUent rewards of faith. As the rewards
of faith are so great, that neither ear hath heard, nor heart oan conceive, so
must the plagues for unbelief answer the greatness of those. The reward of
Adam's obedience appears not to be any other than a continuance in that
happy state in paradise wherein he was created ; wherein it is like he might
after some trial of hia obedience have been confirmed by the grace of God,
as the angels are in their glorious estate in heaven. As hia reward seems
not altogether to be tbe same which ia promised in the gospel, viz., a being
with Christ for ever to behold his glory ; so the punishment threatened
upon his transgression of the coihmand is not the same with the punish
ment threatened in the gospel ; and though it was more than a temporal
death, or a separation of soul and body, which aeema to be too light a
punishment for an offence against the infinite majesty of God, and would
not have answered the enormity of the crime (could the pain of a few hour's
satisfy God for a sin, whose guilt and filth would be perpetual without par
don and sanctification ?) ; yet it was not so bitter a death as is threatened upon
the breach of the new covenant ; for all punishment follows the measure of
the ingratitude and greatness of the obligation, which was not the same in
his sin aa it is in ours ; and therefore it ia expressed by the addition of death
unto death : 2 Cor. ii. 16, ' The savour of death unto death ;' a death with
more pangs superadded by the gospel to the death inflicted upon Adam by
the law. As those that have believed in the name of the Son of God, and
walked according to that faith, ahaU be eternally freed from aU the curaes of
the moral law, and the dreadful threatenings sprinkled in the gospel ; so
those that shall die in their unbelief, shaU for ever lie under the curses of
the one, and the executed threatenings ofthe other. We find that as the pro
mises in the Old Testament were not ao spiritual and clear, respecting for
the most part the land of Canaan, and temporal goods ; so the threatenings
are not so sharp, respecting for the most part temporal losses and outward
judgmenta. Aa the joys of heaven were, under that dispensation, veUed
under temporal promises, so the terrors of hell were veiled under temporal

334 chabnock's woeks. [John III. 86.
curses. But in the gospel there are clearer promises of an etemal glory,
and answerable to them, there are more dismal threatenings of an eternal .
loss. There is ' utter darkness ' to answer an ' inheritance in light ; ' a
never-dying worm to answer to everlasting joya ; rivera of brimstone to
answer to rivers of pleasures ; an eternal separation from God, and the ever
lasting society of derils, to answer to an eternal communion vrith God and
the blessed angels.
(4.) It will be suited to the knowledge or means of knowledge men had.
The heathens will have a single condemnation, for not improving the light of
nature ; the Jews a double, for neglecting that light, and the instructions of
the law. A treble condemnation remaina for them that neglect both these,
and the discoveries of grace more glorioua and plain, than nature or law
with a richer manifestation ever could be. The damnation of the first will
be a pleaaure to the miseries of the last, who will have more than an ordi
nary damnation. To have Christ and his blood preached to men, engenders
more knowledge than the instructiona of the heavena, and the creatures of
'''he earth, with a conscience guided by a dimmer light. Tyre and Sidon
shall have a lighter sentence than Chorazin and Bethsaida ; they might have
reformed upon less means, when those were not converted by greater, Mat.
xi. 21-24. Tyre, a place of knowledge, famous for excellent arts, from whence
a greater part of the Grecian learning was derived ; a place of notorious
idolatry, whence the Jews had sometime drawn the contagion ; a place of
great pride and Itixury, threatened with grievous plagues by God, Ezek. xxvi. ;
yet this place, though sinning againat much natural knowledge, shall fare
better than the cities of Judea. Sodom, the stain of mankind, a place soaked
in the dregs of villany, who sinned against an eminent deliverance bestowed
upon them for the sake of Lot, and also against many admonitions from that
person, who could not but testify the vexation of his righteous soul for their
wickedness, that would have committed wickedness with the angels, and
that when they were under the judicial hand of God striking them with
blindness, guilty of those abominations which likely not a man in Capernaum
was guilty of ; yet this hell upon earth shall have a milder hell at the day
of judgment than unbelieving Capernaum, a place that had often given
entertainment to Christ in the days of his flesh, blasphemed not his doctrine
when they heard it, nor ascribed his miracles to the devil when they saw
them, as the pharisees did ; yet those, for want of faith, shall be more inex
cusable than the other ; the one offended against the light of nature, the
other against the light of grace, published by the mouth of the only Son of
God. The means of grace men have had, will sharpen the sting of con
science to pierce more deep : ' The word shall judge men at the last day,'
John xii. 48. The doctrine of grace, and the instructiona of the gospel,
atrack in upon their minda, shall rise up in their consciences, as so many
witnesses against them. And though suppressed here by unrighteousness,*
shall, lUie fire buried in a heap of ashes, sparkle again, and make their con
sciences as a fiery oven, as the expression is, Ps. xxi. 9, and engender a
more enflamed hell within them, than all other miseries can without them.
Every principle of truth, whether approved of or no, shaU be as the sting of
a scorpion ; all which meeting together, shall render them more self tor
mented creatures than the worst of the Tyriana, or the most viUanous rake-
hell in Sodom, though there were no outward pain or misery to afflict them.
WeU, then, it is a aore puniahment : ' Then will he speak to men in his
wrath.' When? When they ' take counsel against the Lord and hia anointed,
and cast away his cords from them,' Ps. ii. 5, he will ' swaUow them up in
* Reynolds on Hosea, Serm. vii. p. 158.

John III. 36.] the miseey of unbelievebs. 335
his wrath,' Ps. xxi. 9. The curses of the law brake men in pieces, but the
rejected Son of God in the gospel, like a atone from an high ascent, grinds
them to powder, Mat. xxi. 44. So that it had been happy for them if grace
had never appeared to them, since they have gained nothing by it but a more
stinging damnation.
4. Irreversible wrath ; it abides, permanent, not transient, not a volatile
but a fixed wrath. As it is fire for severity, so it is unquenchable .for
duration, Mark ix. 48, 45. There is no more recovery from it than there is
for a man shut up in a red-hot oven. If it be reversible, it ia only ao by
God ; all the creatures in heaven and earth, in a joint combination, cannot
blow away the fire that ia not blown by man, as the expression is, Job
XX. 26. God hath declared himaelf to admit of no remiasion without blood,
Heb. ix. 22, what hopes, then, unleaa another redeemer can be provided to
match Christ in as valuable a satisfaction, by the price of hia blood ? This
hath already been accepted as sufficient by the Father, seconded by the Holy
Ghost in his solicitations, aa an advocate to men to accept it. But auppoae it
were poaaible to offer an infinite ransom to God for the recovery of our souls.
How ia God obliged to accept that, since that which he hath appointed and
accepted hath been refused ? There was no obligation upon him to appoint
and accept the first, it was purely an act of grace ; there can be aa little or
less upon him to accept a second. He might have exacted the sentence of
the law, that the soul that sins shall die, and never have granted any to
stand in the room of the ainner ; and so he may still, if we consent not to
what he hath approved. The sufferings of men for transgreaaiona must be
as bitter as the sufferinga of Christ ; the law requfres it ; but they must be
more durable than his, in regard of our impotency for satisfaction. Thia im
potency being eternal, the Buffering must be of the same duration ; and
though Christ suffered for the transgressions against the first covenant, and
the temporary tranagressions against the new, yet he suffered not for
final unbelief and impenitenoy. 'After death the judgment,' Heb. ix. 27.
The embracing the aacrifice of Christ ia limited only to this hfe ; no offers
are made after death. ' The axe is laid to the root of the tree,' in the time
of the gospel, Mat. iii. 10. Patience under the law suffered the tree to stand,
justice under the gospel brings the axe to the root, and what is not fit for
the building is reserved for the fire. A tree cut off from the stock cannot
be fastened on again to grow; and it is not a wayfaring, but a ' dweUing with
everlasting burning,' that every unbeliever is adjudged unto, Isa. xxxiii. 14.
But suppose God should give a respite, and restore a man to life, and to hear
the preaching of the gospel, what assurance is there that men would comply
with the truths of God, if they had the habits of their old sins as strong in
them as before ? Is it not too frequent to break solemn vows, as easily as
Samson snapped in pieces the cords that bound him ; and that while they have
been aensible of the gnawings of conscience ? If men ' believe not Moses
and the prophets,' nay, a greater than Moses and the prophets, they would
not believe the report of one hcensed to come from the place of torments ;
and as httle beheve, or quickly forget, thefr own feehng.
Use. Firat of information.
1. May we not aee and admire the patience and goodness of God towards
us? Doth the wrath of God abide upon every unbeliever; doth he lie
under the iron mace of the law, ready to be crushed every moment, if God
speaka the word ; hath a sword, edged with the bitterest curses, hung over
our heada by the brittle thread of a frail life ? What if God had let the
iron mace faU upon us and broken the thread, and made us possess the
wrath that we had merited, not only by nature but by our infidelity ? This

836 chabnock's wobks. [John III. 86.
patience would not have waited on us one moment had not that Christ we
despised interposed himself for our reprieve, and presented the merit of his
blood to stop the fiood of divine fury. How have we been beholding to
that God, whoee grace we have abused, in bearing with us ; and to Christ,
whose bowels we have spurned, in soliciting for us while we were kicking at
him ? None of us but have been mightily beholden to God for his patience,
and some no question for a pardon. How hath riches of goodness and for
bearance waited upon us without any regret, to lead us to repentance, while
we have atood it out in rebellion, Rom. ii. 4. He did not reckon with us
for our debts, and by his long-suffering stopped the vengeance that longed
to seize us. Had not our natural corruption rendered us fit to be clapped
up in his eternal prison, when we were in our cradles, and our perversity
exposed us to a greater punishment, when we have stood out in the main
taining of our forts against him ? Hia threateninga continually pointed at
us, yet are not put in execution upon ua. It is not that we were not fuel fit
enough for hie wrath, it ia not that he was ignorant of our crimes ; for none
but he, no, not our own consciences, knows what scores of talents we were
indebted, and what demerit there was in every act of sin. Has he not
arrested some who were lesa in hia debt, put others' bonds in suit, and let
ours lie by ? Had he snatched away any present behever in his former state
of infidelity, his condition bad been eternally deplorable. Blessed be God
for un-wearied patience, that hath hitherto reprieved us ; and blessed be God
for overpowering grace, that hath secured any of ua from that wrath which
is due to infidelity !
2. May we not take notice of the extreme folly and madness of those that
remain in a state of unbehef ? It is folly in the judgment of onr Saviour,
for he couples ' fools, and slow of heart to believe,' in the rebuke he gives
his disciples, who had already aome principles of faith in them, though buried
under the clods of some prejudicate opinions, Luke xxiv. 25. So folly and
disobedience, or unbelief (as the word ia sometimea rendered), are put to
gether : Tit. iii. 8, ' Foolish and disobedient.' To follow any sin, upon
which misery is entailed, is a senseless course ; but to lie in this, which
stakes ua down to that misery, is as great a madness as it is a sin. As the
loss of the soul is the most dreadful loss, so the neglect of the soul is the
most unreasonable neglect. Men that will deliberate, and tosa things of a
worldly concern in their heads, will not employ time in the consideration of
the things of another world ; nay, will not so much as inquire into the cor
ruptions of nature, or provisions of divine grace, and have their excuses
ready framed to put back any invitation to the true path of their own happi
ness, as in Luke xiv. 18 ; as if they had entered a league, offensive and
defensive, with the pleasures, profits, and lusts of the world against God.
(1.) Is this because any question the truth of the Christian religion, and
think the maxims of it to be mere fables ? which perhaps may be in the
secret of many hearts, though the way liea not plain for an outward expres
sion. Are you sure it is not of a divine stamp ? Suppose it were not, is it
any prejudice to your happinesa ? You are exhorted by it to live virtuously.
This is that which philosophers by the light of reason have prized and
practised. No man dishonours God by receiring a doctrine, so far as it
obligeth to such a carriage ; is there anything in the whole scheme which
makes to the dishonour of the deity ? Doth a Trinity seem too mysterious ?
Some heathens did not think it incredible, since something of that nature
hath been published by them, derived from those that had, mediately or
immediately, conversed with the Scripture. Do we understand the nature
of angels ; yea, the nature of our own souls, and what the distinction of the

John III. 36.] the miseey of unbelievebs. 887
faculties are ? and shall we presume to deny a doctrine linked with so many
others highly agreeable to the reasons of men, because it is above our reach,.
aa the nature of God is infinitely more than the nature of angels ? Or doth
the death of the Son of God seem unreasonable ? Is there anything in it
disparaging the honour of God ? Is not hia faithfukiess to his law, his love
to his creature, the purity of his nature, and hatred of sin, mightily mani--
fested hereby ? Is it repugnant to reason that a divine person may volun
tarily assume a body, be in a low condition for a time, in that nature which
he assumed, that he may be happy in that nature for ever after ? Or ia it
a thing altogether unknown among men, for one to answer for the faults of
another, by an excess of friendship ? But if those things whioh you will
not believe prove to be true at laat, that the Son of God hath suffered by
God's appointment for the expiation of sin ; that those that believe in him,
and resign up themselves to his government, ahall receive the benefits of it,
and none else ; what a madness will you then think yourselves guilty of !
There is nothing in the whole frame of the Christian religion can make
against your real happiness, supposing it were not true. But if it be true,
the opinionative or practical slighting of it exposeth you to a most unex
pressible miaery. If the things revealed prove true, when it is too late to
gather the blessed fruit of them, will a bottomless lake,, a perpetual stinging
conscience, be balanced by a few transitory pleasures on earth ?' Is it not
an unreasonable folly to deny a doctrine you cannot demonstrate to be false,
and be in danger to feel a misery, that you cannot demonstrate but it may
come upon you, rather than comply with those doctrines whioh cannot do
you any prejudice in the great concerns of your souls, supposing they were
not true ? It is a folly utterly to deny them till you can demonstrate there
ia no such thing aa a Redeemer, that the Scripture is not the word, of God,
that no such condition as faith is required of men. But let me ask the
question. Is there nothing that troublea your consciences sometimes ? Have
you not some fears in your retirements ? (if auch men have any retired in
spection into themselves) do you believe those fears springing up in your
conaciences to have any ground or no ? If you think them groundlesa, why
do you trouble youraelves with them without a cause ? Why can you not
expel them ? If there be any just cause for them, and that they haunt you
whether you will or no, why do you not look after a remedy ? Would you
not yourselves account that man mad, who, lying under a troublesome dis
temper, would inquire after no medicine ?
(2.) Or is the reason of this neglect because you expect happiness from
something else ? No man in his right wits oan buUd his fehcity upon any
earthly foundation ; scarce any sort of rationalists ever did ; in God was
felicity placed by them. It ia as great a folly to expect happiness from any
thing else, as to expect water from dry ashes, or a heap of gold from a bur
den of straw. And can any more rational method be framed to bring us to
God, than what Christianity affords us ? But since we acknowledge the
truth of the Christian religion, and the authority of the Scripture, can w
propose any good to ouraelves by neglecting the grace of God offered in it ?
Do you think Christ a Sun of righteouanesa ? Do you acknowledge that he
is the purchaser of blessedness, and God the fountain of it ? Why, then, do
any foolishly neglect the rejoicing in, and walking by that hght, and drink
ing of those streams ? Would you not laugh at that man that would turn
his back upon the sun, to warm himself by a candle, as though there were
more heat to be expected from that than from the other ? Would you not
stand astonished at one that should thrust away a rich wine from him, to
VOL. IV. Y

338 chabnock's woeks. [John III. 36.
drink of a miry puddle ? What we blame in others, we may charge ourselvesi
with in spiritual things. To keep a distance from the fountain of life, is the
way to continue in a perpetual death. How can we expect to benefit our
selves by anything, when we despise or neglect the only fountain wherein
God hath placed salvation ? What good can be proposed to ourselvea by
resting upon anything else, but the strengthening our fetters, gratifying our
grand enemies, and binding over our souls to a perpetuity of wrath ? Mercy
wiU be displeased, God more provoked, and reigning sins strengthened to
bring damnation.
(3.) Ia it not a folly to neglect a necessary happinesa which you may have ?
It ia not only offered, but pressed ; God importunes you, your conaciencea
goad you on. It comes near to you, the divine mercy of the gospel encom
passeth you round. Can there be a greater folly than to starve when we
may have bread ? to be willing to be shipwrecked in our bottom, rather
than to pass into another vessel for a certain security ? What do you think
of Adam ? Do you think him wise for preferring an apple before the delights
of paradise ? Let us put ourselves in the same rank, if we prefer a feather
before a pearl, and endless misery before an happy immortality. No folly
like that, to affect to be damned rather than be saved, when salvation may
be procured, in some respect, upon easier terms for us than ever damnation
can. Who can deserve a better character than that of a fool and madman,
whose soul is not awakened to mind eternity by the sword of juatice that
glitters in his eye ; but rather dares the sharp edge to do its worst, and thia
upon vile terma, to gratify some swinish affections ? If our natural enmity
to God, as governor of tbe world, hinders us from complying vrith his kind
ness, yet self-preservation should make us fear and endeavour to avoid his
wrath ; and no folly like that, to prefer our enmity to another before the
security of ourselves. It is an unreasonable folly, and insenaibleness, not
to come up fully to the terma of that religion we expect salvation only by.
3. A believer must be infallibly happy, if an unbeliever be infallibly
miserable. The same word that assures the deplorable state of the one,
assures the blessed estate of the other. The remission which was condi
tional in the declaration, is upon faith made absolute, becauae the condition
is performed ; what was proffered to all upon the condition of believing. If
you believe, you shall have eternal life, ia made abaolute upon believing.
You believe, therefore you have eternal life. If the faith of believera under
the Old Testament were saving in that obscurity, our faith under a clearer
light, and more certain manifestation, must be much more saving. Salva
tion is as much the issue of faith by God's order, as damnation is the
issue of unbelief ; it is called, therefore, a ' beheving to the saving of the
eoul,' Heb. x. 39. It takes hold of the mercy-seat, and hath both the vera
city of God, and the pleas of Christ, to defend it, and keep its hands from
being knocked off.
(1.) Is not that man happy who hath an union with Chriat; who is
transplanted from Adam, the condemned head by law, into Christ, the justi
fied head both by law and grace ? Shall a member of Christ perish any
more than the head ? or can the head be happy without the members ? Waa
his natural body only concerned in that prophecy, that not a bone of him
shall be broken ? or shall hia mystical body fare worse than that ? Can hell
ever be the dwelling-place of that which is the habitation of Chriat ? Eph.
iii. 17. Shall wrath ever pierce into the intimate recesses where Christ re
sides ? Shall the living waters which fiow out of the belly, John vii. 38.
(which is nothing but the Spirit received by beliering), stream anywhere but
to the ocean of blessedness ? The fatness sucked from the ohve-tree, Rom.

John III. 36.] the miseey op unbelievebs. 839*
xi. 17, is not to render any combustible matter for wrath, but a preparation,
for glory. Oneness with Christ renders a believer in a manner aa safe as
Chriat's righteousnesa doth himself ; how can a behever miss of happineaa,
since by his union with Christ he is united to God, who ia infinite blessed
ness in his nature, and the only felicity of hia creature ?
(2.) Ia not he infallibly happy, who hath everything removed that may
render him eternally miaerable ? Justice is stopped from any inundation
upon such a person, since he answers the terms wherewith justice was satis
fied. It would not longer retain the name of righteousness, if it acted so
high a piece of unrighteousness as to deny its own agreement, and refuse
the plea of that satisfaction it hath already accepted, and demand the debt
Christ hath afready paid. The tribunal of justice ia to faith changed into a
throne of grace, where justice and mercy ait both together, justifying and
embracing a believer, Rom. iii. 26, for such Christ hath fixed a rainbow
about the throne of God (as was elsewhere observed), an emblem of peace,
Rev. iv. 8, to ahew hia mindfulness of the covenant when he comes to judge
upon his throne. That whereby any aon of Adam is condemned, is ailent
in regard of a believer. The law can no more plead its curses, against the
blood of the Redeemer. Honey comea out of the belly of that lion instead
of its fiery terrors, aince Christ pronounced a freedom from guilt ; for justi
fication is at the instant of a sincere believing : John iii. 18, ' He that be
lieves on him is not condemned.' Is not, in the preaent tense. He is not in
a state of condemnation, therefore in a state of justification. Sin also (which
ia the corner-atone and foundation of hell) hath received a deadly wound,
and is every day more feebly gasping ; for believera ' walk not after the
flesh, but after the Spirit,' and ' therefore there is no condemnation to them,'
Rom. viii. 1. The venom of hia nature ia cured, as well as the guUt con
tracted by sin ; the biting of the old serpent infected the blood of mankind
with a serpentine venom, so that every man may in some sort be said to be
the seed of the aerpent ; but by faith the guilt ia not only taken away,
whereby we become obnoxioua to God, but the venom of our nature, which
corrupted the masa of blood.
(3.) Ia not he infaUibly happy, whose person and services are accepted by
God ? Eph. i. 6. If faith in Christ makes any an amiable object of God's
love, it must certainly make him a prepared subject for God'a glory. How can
God make a person eternally miserable, with whom he is well pleased ? As
justice cannot but thunder against an obstinate rebel, so mercy cannot but
embrace a penitent and believing supplicant, who brings a righteousness
before God, that pleaseth him infinitely more than the whole world. He
that stands unblameable before God, by the righteousness of his Son, can
not be eternally miserable by his own sin. What tender father can condemn
his own child ? Such a relation doth faith make between God and the soul,
by a double title, both of regeneration and adoption, John i. 12. Sonship is
upon receiving of Chriat, ' He that truata in the Lord, mercy shall compaas
him about,' Ps. xxxii. 10. Mercy twines about every part of him.
(4.) Is not he infaUibly happy, whom Christ, who is the Judge of the
world, nether can nor will condemn ? As he is not able, in regard to the un
alterable method of God, to save an unbehever, so he is not able, in regard of
the same method, to condemn a believing person. The order of God is set
tled, and thia is the rule of his proceeding; when he comes to judge, flaming
vengeance is to be rendered to those ' that know not God, and obey not the
gospel of our Lord Jesus Christ,' 2 Thes. i. 8, neither of which characters
a behever falls under. He is by covenant to justify men by the knowledge
of himself, Isa. liii. 11, or by faith in himself; wUl Christ violate the cove^

340 chabnock's wobks. [John III. 36.
nant of redemption ao solemnly made ? Would he proceed so far as to con
firm it on, his part by his death, to break it by his life ? walk aecording^Jto
the articles of it when he was in the flesh, and defeat it when he was upon
the throne ? He cannot but be as wiUing to bestow mercy upon earth, now
he is in heaven, aa he was when he was upon the earth ; and his language
was then, ' Be it unto you according to your faith;' not only let that disease
be removed, or that mercy granted, but intimating by that general grant the
established order of his Father, that faith should not be denied the highest
blessings that can be given.
(5.) Ia not he infalhbly happy whom God cannot condemn, neither in re
gard of hia truth, nor in regard of the honour of Christ ? Not in regard of
his truth, since all the promises in the book of God belong to believers,
because they are ' yea and amen' in Christ their head. God hath spoke it,
and wiU never repent of what hath passed from his hps : Ps. ii. 12, ' Blessed
are all they that put their trust in him,' i. e. in his Son ; and God wants no
more a faithfulness to make good his word, than he wanted mercy to pass
his word. His truth, which was before on the side of justice, is now second
to his grace, and stands as firm to make good the evangelical promise to him
that performs the condition, as it is engaged to make good the legal and
evangelical threatenings upon them that want it. He puts the interest of
men in the handa of Christ, ' that the promise might be sure to all the
seed,' Rom. iv. 16. Nor in regard of the honour of Christ : if God cannot
save an unbeliever, who crosses the ends of Christ's death, -without dispa
raging the undertaking of his Son, he cannot, according to his etemal order,
destroy a believer, who answers the ends of it, without the same reflection.
It would not be a just dealing with him in the rights of his purchaae, to refuse
the benefit of it to those that answer tho conditions of enjoying it, and place
the sheep that hear his voice in the same calamity with the dogs that snarl
at him. Shall the blood of his Son be shed for the ' gathering together the
sons of God,' John xi. 52, and not sprinkled on them ? God ia more in love
with the peraon of his Son, and more pleased vrith the blood of his Son,
than to oast a dishonour upon the one or the other. The honour of God is
as much concerned in saving every soul that bathes itself in the blood of the
Redeemer, as in condemning every one that tramples upon it.
(6.) Is it possible that he ahould be miserable, who designs and endea
vours to glorify God according to his own direction ? How can we glorify
God but by faith, since man by* his fall had made himself unfit to glorify
him any other way ? This honours God more than Adam could, had he
stood in innocency, who could never have returned God an higher honour
of hia perfectiona, than he could have gleaned and collected from the
creature ; whereaa this owns him in his glorioua manifeatation in hia Son,
and returns him an acknowledgment of the more glorious expense of his
grace, and fuller display of his excellency. He that trusts in Christ, is ' to
the praise of the glory of God,' Eph. i. 12. Is it possible God should put
that soul to the greatest misery, that endeavours to bring him the greatest
glory ? Faith kUls the enmity in the heart towards God, and shall a God
of infinite love, who inspired the believer with all the faith and love he hath,
cherish enmity in his breast against one that lodgeth him in his dearest
affectiona, and destroy his own production ? Who can imagine that a God
of infinite goodness should be behind-hand with hia creature in affections ?
Well then, the salvation of a believer stands firm ; hell and wrath shall
not touch those that are anointed with the blood of Christ, and sheltered in
so inviolable a sanctuary. Adam might sooner have been condemned in his
innocent estate, than a Christian in a beheving state, since God hath, besides

John III. 86.] the miseey op unbelievebs. 341
a single word, laid upon himaelf great obligations by frequent repetitions of
his promise by aU the prophets, Acts x. 43, and besides hath confirmed it
by the blood of his Son. Again, as the punishment of an unbelieving rebel
is as unavoidable as the punishment of Christ, after he entered himself aa
an undertaker for us, so the salvation of a penitent believer is as certain aa
the acceptation of Christ, after he performed what as a surety he undertook
for. He hath unlocked the gates of heaven, that were shut till the shedding
of his blood. The angel's sword that guarded paradise, turns every way to
let the believer in, as it turned every way before to keep a rebel out from
the tree of hfe. The veil of the temple was rent in twain by the force of the
cross, whereby there was a view of the holy of hohes. A believer hath a
prospect of heaven while he lives, and an entrance into it when he dies ; it
^-i«, ' through his name,' if we believe in him, that ' we receive remission of
sina,' Aots x. 43 ; he that hath remission cannot lie under damnation.
Use 4, is of exhortation. Be sensible of it.
1. Be aensible of the misery. Let every unbeliever consider that he hath
the character of a condemned peraon upon him, for vrithout faith Christ
speaka no more comfort than the thundera of the law, but more terror than
aU the curaes of that can apeak. The text apeaka it plain : ' He ahall not
see life, but the wrath of God abidea upon him;' poena damni, in the first,
poena sensus, in the second ; there is a God ofj life, a heaven a place of life,
but he shall never see the face of God with comfort, or enjoy the satisfactions
of heaven. The deprivation of the heavenly Canaan, when a man comes to
understand it, must much more affect the soul, than the deprivation of the
earthly Canaan affected Mosea. How sad wiU it be to be hurled from a
pinnacle of prosperity, to a dunghill of poverty in a moment ! What do you
think were the aentiments of Adam, when on the sudden he found himself
fallen from a serene atate into a sea of horrors ? Such will be the thoughts
of men, when they aee themselves cast from heaven for want of faith, who
before aeemed to be in the auburba of it by an external profession. Men
are naturally now secure, and have rather a faith in their own hearts, than
a faith in Chriat, and cry Peace, in spite of God, who proclaims a curse :
Deut. xxix. 19, ' Blesa himself in his heart.' But with what rage will con
science at length lash and spring up a perpetual hell within them, that will
condemn upon a deathbed, aa God'a viceroy, and God at laat condemn as
the supreme governor ; that wiU ten thousand times more gnaw an unbeliever
for his infidelity, than the worat heathen for all hia other afris. The nearer
a man is to happiness, the more afflicting is the loss of it, and the more
tormenting when it is for a vile and an unlovely lust. How I am expelled
from the presence of God, who lately had a door opened to it, by the blood
of the Redeemer ! Justice looked not the door of heaven upon me, till I
turned my back upon it, and pulled it after me. That which might have
made me as happy aa an angel, I refused wilfully, to make myself aa miser
able aa a devil. This will be the sad lamentation of a man obstinate under
the preaching of the gospel. How great will the misery be, when justice
shall plead the dishonour of God, and mercy charge thee with the abuses of
his grace ! When all the attributes of God shall pursue him, whom a little
before they waited to receive ; when Christ, who would have been a stone of
buUding, shall be a atone of bruising, and shall crush by his wrath those
that would not be wooed by his mercy ; when he shaU appear in the majesty
of a judge, he will cut the hearts of those that despised him in the quality
of a Saviour. Tl^ose that have been only under nature's light, without
the least twinkling of the gospel, will be, in comparison of such, in a
state of innocency, and under a more easy damnation. As Christ shed

342 chabnock's wobks. [John III. 36.
not his blood in vain, waa not exalted in vain, pleada not in heaven in
vam, so he is not entrusted with a power in vain ; ' aU power is_ given
him in heaven and earth,' in pursuance of the gospel, upon which he
founds the commission of the apostlea, and assures them of his assist
ance in their work. Mat. xxviu. 18, 19, either for the happiness of the en
tertainers, or the misery of the neglecters ; to break in piecea by hia rod
those that wiU not bow down to his aceptre : for in refusing ourselves the
happiness of salvation, we refuse Christ the glory of his death and the
honour of his authority. And consider, the more Christ is resisted, the
deeper will the condemnation be. When we find Cain sinking under the
load of the blood of an innocent person, murdered by him once, and see
men whoae hands have been imbrued in the blood of wicked wretches, to
be in hell alive, when their consciences are awakened to a consideration of
thefr guilt ; what will it be then to be many a time, as by every act of in
fidehty, guilty of the blood of Christ ? Nothing but woe can remain for that
man, who hath the blood of Christ, so highly valued by God, pleading against
him ; it is greater than all the miaery which can happen in thia life. If we
are aick, sickness is but a deprivation of health ; if poor, the poverty is but
the deprivation of wealth ; but if unbehevers, we deprive ourselves of God,
and of ourselves : the good we loae by it ia a greater good than we can loae
by any worldly miaery. We offer the highest violence to ourselvea, and
reject the true felicity of our nature, by refusing an adherency to God aa the
chiefeat good, and to Christ aa the only way to the fruition of him. Faith
only kept David's heart from fainting, Ps. xxvii. 13. Unbehef, then, can be
no cordial for any in a dying hour ; aince by refusing a Saviour he makes
himself utterly uncapable of aalvation.
2. Be aenaible of the equity and juatice of thia miaery. We can never be
affected with any pronounced woea, unless we firat judge God just ; and truly
the punishment ia aa deeply merited at the hands of God, aa his kindness in
hia Son waa undeserved by ua. If justice might equitably punish men for
breaking the laws of the Creator, it might much more punish them for
slighting the overtures of an appeasable Creator, and the performances of an
appeasing Redeemer ; and what ia more reasonable than to have that inflicted
upon men, which waa inflicted upon the Saviour they make so light of !
(1.) There is no want on Christ's part. There hath been by him satis
faction enough for the payment of our debts, and merit enough for our
restoration to our happiness. He hath done all thinga neceasary for the
salvation ofthe world : he hath expiated sin, which plunged it into misery ; he
hath presented hia death to God as a aacrifice of infinite value, sufficient for
aU the world, and by opening the throne of grace, hath given liberty to
approach to God, and sohcit him for the application of the benefit he hath
purchased ; he hath also purchased the Spirit, aent him into the world to
renew his solicitations to men, who seriously calls them to the partaking of
thia aalvation, and declarea it to be a thing very agreeable to him, that men
should come in to him. He came not intentionally to condemn any man :
John iii. 13, ' For God sent not his Son into the world to condemn the
world, but that the world through him might be saved ;' to proclaim the
riches of the grace of God for the salvation of men.* But in regard of the
event, indeed he is their judge, to which men provoke him by their obstinacy ;
whence it is said, John ix. 39, that he came ' to judge the world,' i. e. in
regard of the event. As the intention of a physician in prescribing sovereign
medicines for the mastering the disease is to heal the patient ; but if the
patient neglects those restorativea, and swaUows poison in thefr stead, this
* Tamov. in loc. p. 311.

John III. 36.] the miseey of unbelievebs. 343
is not the physician's, but the patient's fault. The title of our Lord Jesus
in his first coming was Saviour, not Judge ; he presented men with that
which might warrant them from condemnation ; but if they will not rejoice
in thefr happineaa, they exclude themaelves from the benefit ; and by not
embracing the ransom God hath provided, they expoae themselves to pay that
satiafaction in their peraons which the law exacts. The satiafaction of Christ
they cannot plead, because the conditions of it are not embraced ; they must
therefore pay what the law demands, whioh would else be insignificant, and
the honour of God's justice would suffer in their safety. When, therefore,
every offer of mercy shall accompany men to the tribunal of the judge, and
thia charge be heard from hia mouth : * I have redeemed you by my blood,
and you have trod it under foot ; I have invited you to faith and repentance,
but you would rather wallow in the excrements of sin ; I have caUed you by
the motions of my Spirit, and you have proved rebellious ; I have encouraged
you by promisea of great reward, but you made no account of them ; wherein
have I been wanting ? With what face can any man now lay the fault upon
trod ? As when a king proclaims pardon to a rebellious oity, upon the con
dition that they yield up themselves to his son ; aa it is equity that thoae
that surrender themaelves should have the promised benefit, so it is just that
thoae that wilfully resist so easy and reasonable a condition, ahould fall
under the threatened penalty ; they have no reason to charge their ruin upon
any want of clemency in the king, since the proffer was made to all, but upon
thefr own obstinacy, because they perish by their own folly.
(2.) No want of evidence and declaration of the salvation purchased. If
there were not sufficient argumenta to work upon men'a underatandinga, nor
persuaaive motives to induce thefr wiUa to embrace it ; if there were not a
demonatration of an invincible neceasity of their behef, their condemnation
for infidelity would not appear to be jnst. But there is sufficient evidence ;
' light is come into the world,' and hath expoaed to the riew of men the
treaaures of grace and glory, the moat alluring motives to prevail upon their
wUls ; but their affectiona carry them to error and darkneaa, upon which the
Scripture lays the cause of men's condemnation, John iii. 19, and calls it a
self-judgment : Acts xiii. 46, ' You judge youraelves unworthy of everlaating
life.' Ignorance sometimes exouseth,f either when the things we are igno
rant of we are not bound to know, as what is the just magnitude'of the sun ;
or when they are not sufficiently revealed, as who Melchisedec waa ; but
when that which concerns our clear duty, and choicest happineaa, is with a
full evidence of truth set clearly before our eyes, ia it not our own fault if
we regard them not ? Such an ignorance is affected and voluntary, and
leaves a man in judgment vrithout excuse ; and is so far from diminishing
the fault, that it rather aggravates it. Why are any ignorant, when the doc
trines of the gospel have been represented to them, and it was their unde
niable duty to know and receive them ? If the sun shines upon the world,
and discovers the treasures of the creation ; if men wiU shut tiieir eyes, and
wiU not behold them, is that the fault of the sun, or of the men ?
(8.) It is a voluntary and wilful refuaal, and therefore a consent to the
punishment. Unbelievers are excluded from heaven, and locked up in miaery
by thefr own consent ; not formal and explicit, but virtual and implicit.
They voluntarily neglect the performance of those conditiona upon which a
right to heaven is founded, and wiUingly continue in that atate which aubjecta
them to etemal misery. Whosoever refuaeth the conditions, refuseth by
that act the privileges which depend upon those conditions. He that will
* Pont. Meditat, part i. medit. 14, p. 94.
f Daille sur Jean iii. seim. z. p. 39, &c.

344 chabnock's wobks. [John III. 36,
not pay a pepper-corn per annum for an estate of a considerable value, when
it is all the rent demanded, wilfully deprives himself of the right of tenancy.
He that vrill not sue out the pardon of hia crimes upon easy conditions
enjoined him, deprives himself of the benefit of the prince's proclamation,
and justly perisheth, because, as the conditions are the fruita of the greatest
mercy in the prince, so the refusal is a demonstration of the greateat hatred
in the rebel. Those that choose to gratify Satan in his triumphs over them,
rather than please Christ who hath bled for them, periah by thefr own wU-
fulness. The Scripture chargeth it upon thia score : Christ would gather
men, but ' idiey wiU not,' Mat. xxui. 37, 38 ; God doth not destroy Israel,
but Israel ' destroys himself,' Hos. xiii. 9. The Holy Ghost, in the close
of the canon of the Scripture, lays it there : Rev. xxii. 17, ' Whosoever will,
let him take of the waters of life freely.' If any man will, he may have it ;
if he hath it not, it is because he doth not will it ; and he that doth not will
it, doth consequently will the waters of death ; and what is more reasonable,
than that those who will not accept of a tendered aalvation ahould not enjoy
it ? The whole design of Scripture is to publish God'a willingneaa to impart
the fruits of the death of Christ, and upon the close the Holy Ghost puts the
question, whether they wiU partake of them or no. As much as to say,
God hath discharged himself ; let men look to it, they wUl be found at last
the wilful cause of their own ruin.
Obj. But we have no strength of our own to will ; God only gives faith.
Ans. God may urge us to believe ; we are bound to be obedient to what
soever is his declared vrill, as a rule for our obedience. He gave Adam
strength to believe whatsoever he revealed ; he is no more bound to repair
that strength (but where he pleases) than he was bound to send Christ to
redeem, after man by hia revolt had plunged himaelf in misery. He may
require of man the honour due to him, and is bound to bestow no more upon
man than man can challenge as his due. It ia true, when God would create
a rational creature, the holiness of his nature doth obhge him to create him
holy ; but his holiness doth not oblige him to repair man, who hath forfeited
all to justice, and had his blessings seized into the hands of hia offended
Lord. God is not therefore bound to turn every man's, or any man's wUl.
Yet the refusal of God's gracious tenders is in every unbeliever wilful, be
cause he makes not use of that strength which was left in him, after the fall,
by the mediation of Christ. There is indeed an utter impotency in man as
faUen ; you find no footstep of one good thought, one good inclination, in
Adam after his fall ; he had no mind to approach to God to implore his
mercy. Instead of confessing his sin, he palliates it. Gen. iii. 9-12. Con
science forceth him to acknowledge it ; not to charge himaelf humbly, but to
discharge himself upon God ; he mentions not the name of God with any
respect in all that discourse. Thus man considered in Adam, purely as
fallen, hath not one thought morally good ; so that the apostle might well
say, that ' we are insufficient of ourselves to think a good thought,' 2 Cor.
iii. 5. But there ia some reatored power by the interposition of Christ, aa
he is ' the light that enlightens every man that comes into the world,' John
i. 9 ; whereby be may have some thoughts and inclinations materially good,
if he will follow the conduct of that common light ; he hath a faculty to
think of what God reveals ; he hath sometimes some kind of velleities, but
he doth not improve and pursue them. He puts by those thinga when they
are repreaented to him by the Spirit of God ; he cannot endure to have his
thoughts dwell upon them, and is unwilling to dfrect his affections and in
clinations to a divine object. The corrupt habits in his will wholly sway
him another way. If a man were wUling, and God unwUling ; if he did

John III. 86.] the miseeI of unbelievebs. 345
seriously seek God, and call upon him (as he might direct his cries to God,
as weU as to creatures), and God had said, he would give him no share in
Christ, then man had reason to complain. But it may be truly said, that
no man at the day of judgment can, vvith a full witness of conscience, aay,
Lord, I have sought thee to the utmost of that power thou didst vouchsafe
to me after the fall. I would have beheved in Christ ; I prayed for faith
with strong cries and tears ; many a time I went to ordinances with a desire
and hopea to have it bestowed upon me ; I have waited at thy gatea for the
moving of the Spirit upon the waters of my soul ; I have grieved that I have
not been seized by him, and thou wouldst not bestow faith upon me : can
we think any man can say ao at the last day ? Without question, no unbe
hever can have that plea ; his own conscience wUl faU in with the judge, and
charge his unbelief upon a would not.
(4.) This voluntary refusal is out of affection to some unworthy luat. And
thia reason clears the equity of God's justice in their puniahment. If toriea
and robbers will not accept of a pardon, because they would live idly by
their rapine, and pilfering their neighbours, rather than content themselves
with some honest employment, they increase by such a carriage the equity
of that justice which shall be armed against them. This is the case, John
iii. 19, ' men love darkneas ;' they will not believe, because they will not be
hindered from breaking the divine law without any regret. No question but
many would receive the gospel for the benefit of remission which it offers,
but not for the mortification of the old man with its lusts, which it enjoins.
A true believer rejoiceth in the benefit of pardon by the gospel, aud tastes
the sweetness of that doctrine, but embraceth it aa weU for the renewing
grace of it, for the unloosing hia chains, changing his spiritual death into a
spiritual life, and an heart imprinted by sin into an heart engraven with a
new law ; for he embraceth Christ for the main ends of his death, which
were a restoration of the holiness as well as the happiness of nature ; to
' purify a peculiar people to himself, zealous of good works,' as well as to
' redeem them from all iniquity,' Titus ii. 14. The unbehever is quite con
trary, and neglects a Sariour because he would retain his sin ; he would be
willing to have Christ for a pardon, but without a yoke. But doth not such
a frame put an end to all disputes against the equity of God's justice ? Ia
it just that he that will not have a restoration of God's image should have a
restoration to the felicity of paradise, to live for ever with the original ? Or
that he should be exempted from the misery due to his ain, who would retain
hia violent inclinations against the honour of God, and practically declare he
would rather lose aU the fruits of the blood of God than the pleasures of
sin ? And will not the consciences of many men charge them with this at
the last day, and force them to aay, Lord, I had aome apprehensions of the
truth of thy word, and the necessity of Christ, yet I was loath to forsake a
beloved Delilah for them. I was wUling to believe in him for salvation, but
not to conform to him in obedience ; fleshly and apiritual lusts engrossed my
will, which should have been inclined to thee.
(5.) The dignity and pecuhar design of the person proposed clears the
justice of the puniahment. The Son of God, and hia deaign pecuhar for
man. If a prince should take a great journey to deliver a galley-slave from
his fetters, and he refuse acceptance, would not all men judge him worthy
of the chafris he loves ? Or if a king should go a thousand miles in much
hardship to court a naaty beggar, and receive a refuaal, would not all men
count her worthy of perpetual rags and sordidness ? The case is the same
here. The design of Christ was peculiar for man : devils are excluded. A
reward was promised him : pardon and justification was promised as a re-

346 chabnock's woeks. [John III. 36.
ward to him, which he, being innocent in his own person, waa not capable
of, and therefore was peculiarly intended as a gift to man.
Let every man, then, in an unbelieving state, be sensible of the equity of
this miaery he expoaeth himaelf unto. Be senaible that Chriat hath not been
wanting ; that there is sufficient revelation of the wUl and kindness of God,
that your refusal of him is voluntary and wilful, and with the greatest indig
nity, undervaluing him by low and base affections, and such a person who is
of infinite dignity, and intended hia kindneaa peculiar for man ; and there
fore he that will wilfully refuse ao rich a sacrifice of God'a proviaion for the
satisfaction of his own justice, cannot but acknowledge it reasonable to be
made a sacrifice himself to that justice he hath offended. An eternal misery
is merited by him who rejects a God of infinite goodness, a Christ of infinite
value, and an heaven of infinite duration.
3. Let your sense of unbelief rise up to a detestation of it, and a labour
ing after faith. Why should God be kept out of the exercise of his
sovereignty, and Christ hindered from the rights of his purchase ? Why
should not the Redeemer have the things that belong to him, since he hath
' bought us with a price ' ? 1 Cor. vi. 19, 20. Put not off the seasons of
grace. Let us not harden our hearts against the offers of mercy, lest we
come short of the promise, as they did to whom the gospel was preached in
types, because they mixed not the word with faith ; they looked upon the
typical part, and looked not beyond it to the thing signified, Heb. iv. 1, 2.
If they entered not into rest because they beheved not a goapel in types,
how shall we be admitted into rest, if we helieve not a gospel in substance,
stripped of the obscuring shadows ? As there waa no remiasion unless
Christ had shed his blood, so there is no participation of that blood without
applying it by faith. It is to this the Spirit presseth ua : it ia a pity to re
sist ao comfortable a solicitor. Can we behold a Saviour bleeding upon the
cross for our security, and not give him the small honour of the faith he re
quires ? Christ as crucified doth not save us, but Christ aa beheved on.
Though the fire hath a warming property, yet we must approach to it if we
will partake of its heat. Though a medicine hath an healing rirtue, yet it
is not healing as it ia in the glass, but as received in the stomach. We par
take not of Adam'a contagion but by natural generation ; we partake not of
Christ's hohness but by spiritual regeneration, the form whereof is faith.
Without faith vve continue under the power of Satan. There are but two
kingdoms, the kingdom of darkness, and the kingdom of Christ, Col. i. 13.
Unbelief aubjects us to the one, and faith estates us in the other. If faith
quencheth the fiery darta of Satan, Eph. vi. 16, unbehef exposeth us as a
mark to every arrow. The longer any man continues in unbelief, the more
unfit wiU he be for faith. The natural hardness wiU grow into judicial, and
the stone we bring with us into the world more rocky, more insensible of the
strokes of the law, or the balsam of the gospel. Aa walking unworthy of
the light of nature provokea God to give men up to a sensual brutishness,
Rom. i. 21, so opposing the light of the gospel provokes God to give men
up to a spiritual devilishness. The more spfritual the discovery of grace,
the more spiritual are the judgments upon neglect. No duties are accept
able without faith. It ia as impossible to please God by the humblest de
votions without faith, as it ia to get to heaven by the most soaring righteous
ness without Christ. God smiles upon nothing unless offered to him in the
name of his Son, Col. iii. 17 ; and who can offer anything in his name
that hath not faith in hia blood ? Without Christ we can do nothing, John
XV. 5 ; without union to him, which is only caused by faith, whole heaps of
sacrifices are cyphers, and amount to just nothing. God did not enjoin

John III. 36.] the miseey of unbelievebs. 347
Adam prayer, confession of sin, and sacrifices at the first meeting after the
fall, till he had uttered the promise of a Mediator as the object of faith,
whence all those other duties were to flow, which were natural to him in a
state of innocence, or instituted with a particular respect to the Mediator,
and present state of Adam. Faith waa to> be the ground of his obedience ;
for, having by hia apostasy rendered himself unable to obey any, he must
first believe, that he might have a new strength, and a new principle of
obedience to other commands ; which evidenceth the vanity of those men
that depend upon a self-righteousness, and a formal set of duties, without
regarding the Mediator of God's appointing. No duty acceptable without
faith. Faith rendered Abel's sacrifice more excellent than Cain's, and made
it accepted, while unbelief rendered the other fruitleaa. Miseries attend thia
state in this hfe, which prepare for the miaeriea of a future. Let us, there
fore, embrace the grace of the golden sceptre, leat we be crushed by the
weight of the iron rod, and kisa the Son, lest we feel his wrath. ' He that
believea on the Son hath everlasting life ; and he that believes not the Son
shall not see life, but the wrath of God abideth on him.'

A DISCOURSE SHEWD'G WHO ARE
UNBELIEYERS.

But there are some of you that believe not. For Jesus hiew from ihe begin
ning who they were that believed not, and who should betray him. — Johw
VI. 64.
Aptee Christ had discoursed ofthe necessity and advantages of faith in him,
whereby a right to etemal life is acquired, ver. 47, he declares himself to be
tbe bread of life, more excellent than the manna their fathers ate in the
wildemess, which was not able to secure them from the invasion of death.*
But ' this,' aaith he, ' is the bread which came down from heaven,' ver. 50,
as if he had pointed to his own body in the apeaking those worda ; and not
only the ' living bread,' that have life in myself, but the enhvening bread,
' which came down from heaven to give life ' to the sons of men, ver. 51, and
this bread is ' my flesh, which I will give for the life of the world ;' when
this flesh shall suffer and become a sacrifice to God, if it be eaten by faith,
it shall be capable to communicate life to as many aa do so. But the Jews
who heard him, had carnal conceptions of this discourse of our Saviour, and
raised matter of scandal from that which should have been a ground of theh
faith : ver. 52, ' How can thia man give ua his flesh to eat ?' How.can the
eating the flesh of a man be a thing agreeable to God, and an efficacious
means to gain eternal life ? Christ then perceiving their hardness, and
ignorance, and their misinterpretations of his speech, understanding that of
an oral eating which they might by his former discourse have understood
figuratively of believing in him, he doth more positively assert what he had
spoken before, and that by a strong asseveration, which some think to be m
the nature of an oath among the Jews : ver. 53, ' Verily, verily I say unto
you. Except you eat the flesh of the Son of man, and drink hia blood, yoa
have no life in you.' It is an undoubted truth, that I am only able to give
you life ; and besides, if you believe not in me, it ia impoaaible that ever you
should have any life in you ; but if you do believe, eat my flesh and drink
my blood, by, or in believing, whosoever he be, of what quality and condi
tion soever, he ' shall have eternal life ; and to this end, that he may com
pletely enjoy it, ' I will raise him up at the laat day ' from the dead ; for
whatsoever your fathers did before eat or drink, manna, and the water from
* Amyraut. in loc. through all the verses.

John VI. 64.] who aee unbelievebs. 349
the rock, was neither meat nor drink indeed, but types of me, of my fleah
and blood, which is the true meat, and the true drink to enliven you, and
preserve you in life ; and, you know, the food you eat, and the drink you
drink, are united to your bodiea, so as to become a part of yourselves, yet
not so perfectly but there is a decay again, so that there remains nothing of
that nourishment you have took before, but other must aucoeed in the room
to keep up your bodiea in good plight ; but the meat and drink which I give
are of another kind, for they are the cause of an inaeparable union, and inviol
able communion : ver. 56, ' He that eats my flesh, and drinks my blood, dwells
in me, and I in him.' Natural food, not remaining always in the body, doth
not preserve without freah meals ; but this meat continues in its force and
rigour perpetually, uniting the soul to me, and me to it. The source of this
life is in the Father, who hath communicated a power to me, to enliven those
that have communion with me ; so that if any one believe in me, he ahall
live by me, because the spring of life in the Father is communicated to me
as the Head, and by me conveyed to all those that are members of me by
faith. We are united by faith to Christ, and therefore not united to him as
God, or as God-man, hut as God-man crucified and risen again for us,
ver. 56. And though you have a great opinion of the manna God sent
down to your fathers, and it was indeed a great miracle, and mercy, and
a confirmation of the ministry of Moses, yet you can take no great pleasure
in that, since those to whom it was particularly communicated were not pre
served from death, and did not live for ever, which this bread I spake to you
of will certainly effect in you, ver. 57. ' These things,' saith the evangelist,
' he spake in the synagogue, as he taught in Capernaum,' ver. 59, pubhcly,
and in the midst of his enemies, declaring thereby his power, that he knew,
when he pleased, how to repress the violence of his adversaries, and restrain
their fury from breaking out against him, ver., 60. Now, after Christ had
spoken these thinga, the multitude were so far from being satisfied, that even
some of his diaciples, who had before heard him in other discourses with
much contentment, are offended at this as a strange discourse. They could
not conceive how the flesh of Chriat could be eaten, and hia blood drank,*
since the law forbade them to drink the blood of any creature ; nor how his
body, if sliced into many pieces, could satisfy so great a multitude that were
desirous of eternal life ; nor could any conceive that his body was better
than manna, whereof the Scripture speaks so highly ; and which way aoever
their reasons turned, they could not conceive the meaning of Christ's words,
and therefore said, ' Thia is a hard saying ;'t it is incredible, no sober ear
can endure such discourses as these, or yield any assent thereunto. And
though, out of some veneration of Christ, they did speak thia publicly, and
enter into a dispute with him about this argument, yet Christ, who knew the
motions of their hearts, and what thoughts they had of his discourse, obviates
this offence, remitting them to his resurrection and glorification : ver. 62,
' What and if you shall see the Son of man ascend up where he waa before ?'
and asserting his own deity. The import of it is this,} Have you such
carnal conceits of my diacourse, aa to understand the eating my flesh, and
drinking my blood, of an oral eating ? When you shall aee that this flesh
shall ascend to heaven, you will see your error, and find it imposaible to
chew my flesh with your teeth ; and then you will understand, that that
which you conceive waa not my meaning, but that it is to be meant of a
apiritual eating and drinking, i. e. in believing ; and therefore be not
troubled at this distance of my body from you at that time, for if you believe,
I shaU atill make good my word and promise of life to you, for it is the
* Ferus. in loc. t Brugens in loo. % Amyraut. in loc.

850 ohaenock's woeks. [John VI. 64.
Spirit whom I shall send after my ascension into heaven, who shall com
municate thia life to you, by aanctifying and purging you : ver. 63, ' It ia the
Spirit that quickena ; the fleah profiteth nothing : the worda that I apeak to"
you, they are apirit, and they are life.' Should you eat my flesh in that
manner whioh you weakly imagine, it would profit you nothing, neither for
the comfort of your aouls, nor resurrection of your bodiea ; you therefore
very much abuse me, and abuse yourselves, to put such a construction upon
my words, for ' the worda I apeak are apirit and life ' ; they are apfritual, and
ought to be understood spiritually, and he that receiveth them in a spiritual
manner, will find them to be the means of life, and assurance of life to him,
and a continual aeed and principle of eternal life in him. But it is to httle
purpose that I should thus comment upon and explain what I have said,
since ' there are some of you that do not believe,' and will not believe in
whatsoever manner the doctrine of the gospel should be proposed to you,
ver. 64. Upon which the evangelist adds a remark and observation of his
own concerning the deity of Christ, that being his principal scope in writing
this Gospel, which appears to be hia purpoae in the beginning of his dis
course, chap, i., and therefore he records those speeches of Christ, wherein
his deity is plainly asserted or imphed ; and upon several occasions in the
whole book, points us to those things which may manifest the truth of it,
whereof this is one.
Observe, 1. How bhnd ia man naturally in the thinga of God I How hard is it for
us to understand spiritual truths, not by reaaon of their obscurity, but our
own corruption, wherewith the eyes of our minds are blinded, and our under
standings darkened ! Had an heathen understood the discourse of Christ
in this manner, he had been more excusable than those Jewa that were taught
from heaven, had the Messiah been wrapt up in their types, might have
learned something of him by the paschal lamb, the ceremonies whereof might
have informed them of this doctrine. The lamb signified Christ, the killing
it signified the death of Christ, the eating of it signified faith in his blood,
and thereby a participation of him, and conjunction with him ; but they beiag
bewitched with an opinion of a worldly grandeur, neither regarded the type
of him in the lamb, nor the discouraea he frequently made to them. How
few of the Jews understood the meaning of the types of the Messiah ; nay,
how httle can we give a full account of the analogy between the type and the
antitype, since they have both met together !
2. How apt are we to have carnal imaginations of apiritual things, and
look upon the word of God with false optics ! What reaaon had those people
to imagine that our Saviour, whom they saw without spot, whose actions
manifested his tendemess and kindneaa, who was an exact observer of the
law, should preach a necessity of their being cannibals and man-eaters, and
propose to them the drinking the blood of a man, when the blood of any
creature was forbidden in the law to be swallowed by them, and which none
but the most barbarous nations have ever practised ! What need of prayer
and importunity for the Spfrit, and dUigent inquiry, to make us have right
notions of the words of God ! The Spirit quickens, the light of the Spirit
is only efficacious to give us an understanding of the gospel.
3. The deity of Christ is here asserted ; thrice in the apace of four verses:
ver. 61, ' Jesus knew in himself that his disciples murmured at it.' He never
heard their voice, nor was informed by the report of othera ; he knew it by
the divine nature communicating that knowledge to his humanity : ' He needed
not that any should testify of man, for he knew what was in man,' John
u. 25. He did not only know that the Jews, which were his enemies, were

John VI. 64.] who aee unbelievebs. 351
offended, but that his disciples murmured at it ; he knew the motion s of the
hearts of his open enemies, and his unbelieving foUowers ; not the heart of
any in the multitude waa locked up from hia notice ; he knew it in and by
himaelf, not by another. And ver. 62, ' The Son of man ascends up where
he was before ; ' he waa in heaven before his incarnation, he therefore had
an existence before hia incarnation ; he aacended into heaven in his humanity,
where he waa before in his dirinity. Christ God-man is one person ; the
Son of God and the Son of man is one Christ,* in regard of the unity of the
persons ; he tells us, while he spake on earth, he is in heaven, John iii. 13,
the Son of God on earth in susceptd carne, the Son of man in heaven in uni
tate person cb ; he was in the earth, yet in heaven at the same time. If he
were a creature, it were not possible that he could be in two placea at one
and the same time. Every creature hath a limited essence, and a limited
place, he cannot be in it and out of it at the same time. If he be on earth
and in heaven at the same time, it is certain that he is God, of an infinite
essence, and by consequence eternal ; f since the reason of time is the same
vrith that of place, an infinite nature can no more be bounded by time, than
it oan be limited by place. If he were before in heaven, it could not be in
his flesh that he took of the virgin, he could not be existent in flesh before
he had flesh ; he had no flesh but from the virgin, for he was ' made of a
woman,' Gal. iv. 4. It muat be then in another hature, wherein he waa
existent in heaven before he was incarnate on earth. There is no other nature
but the divine, angelical, and human : angelical nature he had not, that
nature he took not, therefore was not of it, Heb. ii. 16 ; the human nature
he assumed at the time of the standing of the Jewish temple. It must be by
the divine nature then wherein he was in heaven before. A third testimony
there is in the text, ' for Jesus knew from the beginning who they were that
believed not, and who ahould betray him.' From the beginning, i. e. ab
CBterno, saith Ferus. He did so, indeed, as God ; or from the beginning,
t. e. ab initio conversationis discipulorum : Luke i. 2, ' As they delivered them
to us, which from the beginning were eye-witnesses,' so Brugensis, from the
beginning of any one's following him ; his divine nature communicated to
his humanity their sentiments and secret opinions of him. The knowledge
of thoughts is a perfection pecuhar to theJDeity ; man may conjecture, God
only knows them. He knew also who ahould betray him, when Judas had
not then the least thought of such an action, or any intention to it ;J nor
doth it appear that he had that design, till the high priests had discovered
their resolution for his death ; yet Chriat knew before that he should do it,
before Judas knew that he would do it, as he knew Peter's denial of him
before ever Peter thought of such a thing, and predicted it to Peter, when
Peter was resolved against it ; when Christ foretold it to him, then it was,
' I wiU not deny thee, though I should die with thee,' Mat. xxvi. 35. But
afterwarda, his speech, ' I know not the man,' verified the certainty of Christ's
foreknowledge. There are some of you that believe not. He brings upon the stage the true
reason of that offence they had taken at his words. He charges not their
ignorance, but thefr unbelief He doth not aay, there are some of you that
understand not, but he dives into the cause of their dulness, they did not
believe. The fountain of the wrong notions men have of the word, is their
want of faith. And this he speaks to his disciples ; many of them murmured
at him for this discourse : ver. 60, ' many of his disciples.' They might join
themselves to Christ upon many motives, either because of the greatness of
his miracles, expectation of preferment from him in his temporal kingdom
t Austin in loc. t Daille sur Jean iii. 13. J Muscul. in loc.

852 chabnock's woeks. [John VI. 64.
I
they looked for, out of the deaire of novelty, a natural curiosity, perhaps
from a weariness of the legal discipline, or for gain, as Judas did. Some
kind of faith or profession they had, for they were disciples. But when the
unbelief is greater than the assent, auch a faith is esteemed as nothing ; * it
is a faith that wiU be easily laid aside upon a small occasion, and another
profeaaion taken up in the room of it, aa they did, ver. 66, ' many of his dis-
ciplea went back, and walked no more with him ; ' and though they did foUow
him for a time, yet all that time of thefr foUowing him, they had the prin
ciple of apostasy in their unbehef, though it broke not out into act.
The observation that I shall handle, liea plain in the worda.
Doctrine. Many under the preaching of the word, and that seem to be
professors, are real unbelievers. There may be a professed assent, when
there is not a firm one, or at least a full consent ; a painted faith, without
any sound persuasion of the truth of those things in the heart. Many stand
idle in the market, and gaze upon the commodities Christ sets to sale, but
open not their hearts to receive the treaaurea that are opened to them. That
prophecy concerning the miserable reception he hath in the world, is of a
standing and lasting truth to this day, that ' there is no beauty in him that
we should desire him,' that the faces of men are hid from him, that he is
despised and not esteemed, Isa. liii. 2, 3. It was verified in our Saviour's
time, John xii. 37, 38, and is not ended in oura. There is a secret unbe
lief in the hearts of men, which is not expressed with their tongues, but writ
in their actions : Luke vii. 30, ' They rejected the counsel of God against
themselves.' Calvin takes vg for h, in themselves ; there waa not an open
declamation against John's baptism, but a secret dislike of it by an inward
pride swelling up in their minds. There are not only many dead stakes in
the hedge, but some flowers upon the hedge, which are not part of the gar
den, or transplanted into it, as their proper soil. Those that have the
deepest engagements to God, are often the greatest rejecters of Christ.
There was not a nation which owned in their worship the unity of God, but
the Jews. No nation expected and longed for* the redemption by the Mes
siah but they. No nation had the promises of him but they ; they had
more particular obligations to Christ than any : they were his own, John
i. 11, they were conducted by him through the wilderness, were entrusted
with his oraclea, heard hia word, all other nations were in regard of them
none of Christ's. The whole world indeed belonged to him by the right of
creation and government ; but in regard they had not such particular obhga-
tiona to him as the Jewa, they are not here called hia own. Yet those that
longed for him, wished for his coming, instead of receiving him, with the
greatest welcome, rejected him with the greatest spite ; as though he that
came to redeem them, and perfect the kindness shewn to them in the first
administration of the covenant vrith them, had designed nothing but thefr
ruin. And so now Christ is more contemptible among his own than among
strangers ; he is not so much wronged and slighted among heathens that
have not known him, as among those to whom the gospel ia preached.
I shall shew,
I. That it is so.
II. Who are they that are unbelievers.
III. The causes of this unbelief
IV. The use.
I. That it is so. In this I shall consider unbelief in general ; not only
as it is a non-acceptance of Christ, or a refusal of him, but as it is a denying
* Schlicting. in loc.

John VI. 64.] who abb unbelievebs. 353
credit to any revelation of God; and therefore when it is generally granted
that God doth make revelations of his wUl, and it waa a notion owned by
men naturaUy, and that men do not naturally comply fully with auch reve
lations as from God, it is no wonder that men are so often found to be
guUty of the refusals of Christ, since there is nothing in nature that oan
make any discovery of him, or assist our belief in him, the whole stream of
nature being against it ; yet whenever the Scripture speaka of unbehef, it
intends this resistance of Christ in his person, or shadows representing him,
or promiaea concerning him. But that many or multitudes under the word
and common profession of Christianity are unbelievers is evident, becauae,
1. The Scripture always accounts the faithful but few. The Scripture
mentions but two of Adam's race at one time, and one of them Cain, an un
believer, and the head of the unbelieving world after ; and in nine genera
tions from Seth, the world was so corrupted, and God's Spirit so striven
against by that generation, that he pronounceth of it that ' all flesh had cor
rupted their ways,' Gen. vi. 3, 12, and only Noah was found with whom he
would estabhsh his covenant, viz. that he should enter into the ark, and rely
upon God in a way of faith and obedience, which was a type of the etemal
security men have in Christ, the true ark. That covenant made with Adam
in the promise of the seed of the woman, waa rejected by the whole world,
and there was none in the earth that owned it, and with whom God would
establish it, but Noah. Thia was the covenant of grace under the shadow of
the ark, as the sun under a cloud. It waa for their unbelief in the Mediator
that the old world waa condemned to periah in the waters. For the great
work of the Spirit of Christ, by which he preached to them in those days,
1 Peter iii. 18, 19, is against this sin. Christ hath not only suffered by the
unbehef of men in these last times, but from the beginning. So that if his
divinity had been as capable of suffering as his humanity, he had suffered by
the violence of men in former ages, as well aa in the latter ; for the old
world spared him not, but provoked him by thefr incredulity of his promiae.
Of six hundred thousand laraelitea, there are but two expressly mentioned
that beheved in Christ, shadowed under the promise of entering into Canaan.
It was their unbelief in Christ made them uncapable of entering into rest,
Heb. iii. 19, for the apostle discourseth there against unbelief in Christ, and
brings the misery which fell upon their ancestors as a motive against it. A
remnant only in the time of Ahab, in that populous nation ; about seven
thousand among a great multitude ; for the ten tribes could not well be
fewer than Judah and Benjamin, who were in one army one hundred and
eighty thousand chosen men, 1 Kings xii. 21. And in the apostle's time
the case was much the same, for which he cites this passage out of the Kings :
Rom. xi. 4, 5, ' There is a remnant according to the election of grace,'
XE/Jic/ia, a small piece out of a whole cloth. Christ is a atone of stumbling,
a rock of offence, even to the house of Judah and Israel, the only church
God had in the world, Isa. viii; 14, and believers so rare among them that
they were as wonders and prodigies, which are not often seen, ver. 18. In
the days of his flesh few believed in him. John Baptist affirms that ' no
man receives hia testimony,' John iii. 32 ; no man comparatively to those
that refused him, the number of believers being as a few grains of a com
modity scattered out of a scale. A few of the common people believed in
him, and but one Nicodemus and Joseph of Arimathea of the higher sort.
But the generahty of the Jews, to whom both the promise and offer of the
Messiah were made, are charged with unwillingness to come under his wing,
Mat. xxiii. 37 ; with foohsh excuses to absent themselves from his feast,
VOL. IV. Z

354 chabnock's woeks. [John VI. 64.
Luke xiv. 18 ; with a resolute resistance against his call, Mat. xxii. 8 ; and
some that were very forward, and in general aeemed to accept of aU hia
terms, and to be content to do whatsoever he required, when it came to the
push, did strike off and went away grieved, aathe young man, Markx. 17, 21.
Judas professed and preached him, and had not a mite of faith in him ; and
some at the last shall plead their prophesying in his name, casting out
devils, and doing many wondrous works in his name, who were never united
to him by faith, nor ahall ever reign with him in glory, Mat. vii. 22, 23.
And when he comes at last, though there may be a fair harvest of professors,
there will be a famine of faith, Luke xviii. 8.
2. Unbelief is natural to man, and therefore it is no wonder that many
under the preaching of the gospel, and that seem to be professors, are un
believers. (1.) There ia to enmity in nature to the grace of faith in Christ. Since
in a state of nature men are in constant arma against God, they have no
natural inclination to give credit to any revelation of God. Men do not
usually believe their enemies, or trust them without a caution. Since we first
left God, it is natural to us in aU straits to have recourse to sensible ob
jects ; and because we once left him, we are loath to return to him, because
our natural pride refuseth to charge ourselves with the folly of our first
revolt. Man despiseth Christ : Isa. xlix. 7, ' Thus saith the Lord to him
whom man despiseth, to him whom the nation abhors.' Man in his faUen
estate would have a bottom of his own to stand upon ; he is abhorred by the
nation, i. e. by the nation of the Jews, called the nation as being more
peculiarly under God's conduct, the nation to whom he was peculiarly sent ;
and therefore when Christ came, it is said there was no man, none to
answer hia call, Isa. 1. 2, no man naturaUy. And this is not so much from
a dulness of understanding as a natural disaffection. Since man can under
stand things that are abstruse, and with a liveliness search into thoae things
which are pleasant to hia nature, and easily believe them ; his not beheving
the mysteries revealed by God is from the reluctancy of his nature against
him, and unwillingness to acquaint himself with those things which may
over-rule his sensuality and natural inclinations to pleasure. A man may
sooner suffer for a truth of Christ than believe, because there may be many
motives in corrupt nature to perauade a man to auffer for an opinion, as
a repute of constancy, courage, an affectation of a fame (such a vanity as
acted that person that burnt Diana's temple, that he might not be forgot
in the world) ; yea, a man may in distrustfulneaa of God's providence be
weary of hia life, and be desiroua in aome creditable way to be stripped of it ;
but faith finds no assistance in nature. Pride oan be no encouragement to
it, as to suffering. It is a grace which wholly empties a man of himself, lays
him in the dust, suffers not any ambition of a righteousness of his own,
strips him of all hia own excellency. Since pride is a man's darling in
nature, everything that lays it low is abhorred by nature. There is as great
an opposition between the heart of man and the mysteries of God, as there
is between fire and water. Our resistance of the Spirit is natural, the Holy
Ghost never overcomes without striving, Gen. vi. 3. The principle of the
flesh opposeth that of the Spirit in a good man, much more in an unrenewed
heart ; nay, there ia an enmity in the heart against the truth of Christ, be
cause it is truth : John viii. 45, ' Because I tell you the truth, you beheve
me not.'* Not that men think that they hate the truth when they reject
Christ, but they are led by an instinct of the devil, who is their father, and
the father of liea, against the truth, as there is something in it that doth
* Muscul. in loc.

John VL 64.] who aee unbelievebs. 855
not please their natural affections. As those that are prone to contention
cannot endure the counsels of pease, because they are the counaels of peace ;
and those that are given to drunkenness cannot endure admonitions to
sobriety, because they tend to sobriety ; so when men love lies by nature,
and the power of the devil their father, they hate anything that tends to
divine truth.
(2.) The attendants on faith are against the grain of nature ; unbelief,
therefore, and the attendants on it, are suitable to nature. No man is naturally
willing to part with a dear member, a right eye, mortify carnal affections, deny
hia dearest self; nay, men are hardly brought to conaider the thinga of faith,
examine themaelves about the nature of faith ; they are drawn to the touch
stone as hardly as a man to some sharp punishment. Who is naturally
willing to crucify that which is incorporated with him, the flesh ? to deny what
is dearest to him, himself ? If the apostle ' delighteth in the law of God after
the inward man,' Rom. vii. 22, an unrenewed man by the rule of contraries
delights in the law of sin after the inward man (sin hath the chief fort in his
soul) ; and he that doth so is as unwilling to have it slain as to lop off one
of his principal limbs, or fling his whole estate into the sea. Hence Christ
pronounceth it hard for a rich man, or one that trusts in his riches, to enter
into heaven, Mat xix. 23, 24. We are naturally enemies to holiness, whioh
is the fruit of faith, and therefore to the person of Christ, as holy, which
cannot, because of his holiness, be embraced by one deeply in love with sin.
The laws of Christ are too spiritual to be entertained by a carnal mind ;
his ways too strict to be trod by a loose spirit. The inward as well as the
outward man must come under his sceptre ; and this is a hard task, the
stomach swells against it. The righteouaness of Christ is a thing without
us ; it is counted a dishonour to us to be beggars at another's door for happi
nesa ; there must be a righteousness also within us, and against this the
whole legion of devilish corruptions riseth up in arms. Not any part of the
train belonging to faith that nature can look friendly upon ; we are unlike
God, and we naturally hate everything that would render us comformable to
him. (3.) Corrupt reason is an enemy to faith, and a friend to unbelief The
life of sense ia the first life we live ; after that a life of reason, which fore
stalls faith. Reason is the supreme principle in a man before faith geta foot
ing ; it manageth all the actions, and therefore opposes that which would
impair part of its sovereignty. Therefore the oppositions that are made to
the gospel are called reasonings against the knowledge of Christ, which are
strongholds : 2 Cor. x. 4, 5, ' PuUing down strongholds, casting down ima
ginations' (Xoyid/jt'Ovg, reasonings). Reason exalts itself, and will not submit
to revelation, unless it finds marks upon it suitable to its own principles. Not
that God doth impose upon men ; but whenever he hath made a new revela
tion of his will, he hath attended it with signs and undeniable evidences
that it was of divine authority. But after once it is manifest that the revela
tion itself is from God, the principles and doctrines delivered in it are not
to be cited and tried at the bar of our reason. Yet as man sets his wiU
against the law of God, so he lifts up his reason against the wisdom of God.
As enmity to God in the will is aa natural to man since the fall as the will,
so contradicting reasonings against the knowledge of Christ are as natural as
his understanding. Aa it is impoasible a man can be a rational creature
without underatanding and will, so it is impoasible he can be a carnal man
without prejudices in his mind and dissatisfactiona in hia wiU against God :
Rom. viii. 7, ' The carnal mind is enmity against God : it ia not subject to
the law of God, neither indeed can be.' Unbelief, therefore, is natural to

356 chabnock's woeks. [John VI. 64.
man. Therefore, when God subdues the soul to the obedience of faith, it is
in a way of conquest, eaptivafting the reasonings and thoughts of the mind
to Christ. Besides, reason is the excellency and glory of man : the more
rational men are, the more they are in esteem ; and it is not easy to part
with a dignity in submission to that which the heart naturally counts foolish
ness, Adam, by hia afl'ecting to know as God, hath conveyed a principle to
men, whereby they think themselves as wise as God. Thus they in the text
censured Christ's discourse by their own mistaken reason, believed him not,
and at last departed from him.
(4.) The oemmon unbelief of men in thinga evident to aense manifests the
naturalness and easiness of it in the higher mysteries more remote from
sense. This is cleared by that one instance of men's flattering themselves
into hopes of a perpetual life on earth. Though they seem to assent that
they shall die, yet how doth the whole course of many menu's actions speak
another language, and give the lie to themselves, acting in the extremes of
their lives as though they were to linger out an unlimited term of years ! If
we do not seriously believe that whereof we have every day fresh objects and
undeniable testimonies beating in u-pon our sense, how naturally inclinable
must we be not to believe that which is at a distance from us, and whereof
we have not &ach immediate sensible demonstrations ! ' If we believe not
earthly things, how shall we believe heavenly ?' John iii. 12. If we believe
not things that are agreeable to the light of nature, th&t arise from the dic
tates of our own consciences, but manifest our own unbelief of them by a
practice quite opposite to them, how shall we believe the heavenly things
Christ acquaints us with ? How shall we believe those things which are not
seen by a natural hght, that have no foundation in the nature and reason of
men, but are purely to be discerned by the light of heaven ? What hath some
foundation in nature is far easier to be believed than what hath only super
natural revelation for its bottom. The gospel is a remedy which neither men
nor angels could find out ; a way which man in a state of innocence was not
acquainted with, nor in a state of corruption without special discovery.
(5.) We have naturally jealousiea of God. Since enmity to God was
planted by the devil in the nature of man, no friendly act can pass from the
creature to God. Without a change of nature, suspicions of God do as
naturally arise in the heart as fire ascends upward, or a atone falls downward.
Who in a state of distance from, and contradiction to, God, can readily be
lieve that God should love men so much as to give his Son for those he bad
no need of, that were lumps of vanity and enemiea to his glory ? and yet, if
he would give his Son for them, that it should be to a death so painful and
shameful ? The fear that Adam had* when, frighted at the voice of God, he
hid himself amongst the trees of the garden, hath remained in part with his
posterity when they reflect upon their crimes. We measure the nature of
God by the qualities of our own ; and because we are not forward to remit
men's offences against us, we are apt to imagine that God hath not clemency
enough to pardon the faults committed against him.. Hence it is that persons
deeply humbled under a sense of the curses of the law are ready to lick up
the dust under the feet of Christ, and beholding an absolute necessity of him,
are with much ado brought to believe. Though the design of God in setting
out Christ for a propitiation be declared to them, the sufficiency of hia merit,
the acceptation of it by God, the fruits others have found of it, that the design
of Christ's coming was to ease those in that condition, yet they are hardly
induced to lay aside those jealousies they have of God. For this cause per
haps God doth not put us off in his promise with a single ' I will betroth thee
* Daille sur Jean iii, Serm. 9, p. 344.

John VI. 64.] who aee unbelievebs. 357
unto me,' but repeaits it three times to assure us of his reality, Hosea u. 19,
20. How doth Abraham's inaredulity break out after a spiritual promise :
Gen. XV. 1, ' I am thy shield and exceeding great reward. And Abraham
aaid. Lord God, what wilt thou give me, seeing I go childless ?' aa much as
to say, I would have deeds and not worda ; I have had auch promises before,
yet they are not performed. After God's diseourse vrith him, it ia said, ver.
6, ' he beheved in the Lord,' after this second repetition of the promise. But
when it was declared to him before, we have not that remark upon him that
he believed. And God complains of this carriage, Hosea. vii. 13, 'I have re
deemed them,' (D"TDN, ' I will redeem them,' it is my purpose to redeem them
by my Son, as aome underatand it,) ' yet they have spoken liea againat me ;'
they think I have no good intentions towards them, but thoughts of evil. We
think him false, when he is true, and cannot lie ; we think him an enemy when
he is a friend. We are apt to think God hath designs upon us, and wants
sincerity in his proposals. So after the deluge, though God had promised
that he would no more drown the world, the people would not believe it, but
would be erecting a tower to preserve them from sinking again in those
mighty waters. Though Noah's sons were at that time living, had known
the promiae of God, and they had often seen the rainbow, the sign of that
covenant in heaven, yet, Gen. xi. 4, ' Let us build ua a city and a tower,
whose top may reach unto heaven ; and let us make us a name, lest we be
scattered again upon the face of the whole earth.' If this were the reason,
as aome think, it shews, that they were as unbelieving of the promise of God
after the deluge, as the old world had been of his threatening before it. But
it is erident in the Israelites, for whom God hath done aa much as might be
to bind them to a belief of him r he had showered plagues upon their enemies,
and miraculous mercies upon themselves, fed and watered them in the wUder
ness, yet they apprehended God had a design upon them to destroy them,
and were scarce ever free from expreaaing their jealousiea by their murmur
ing, tUl at last their unbelief was a bar to thefr entering into Canaan, and the
utter ruin of that generation.
(6.) Affecting to stand by a righteousness of our own'is natural to us, and
therefore unbelief is natural. Adam waa to have lived upon hia own right
eousness in the state of innocence. Since we are fallen, this relic of nature
is in ua, to desire to rise by our own strength. We would find matter of
acceptance and acquittance in ourselves. Some throw themselvea upon a
heap of external duties, aa the heathena had recourae to in their sacrifices,
thinking to appease God by the blood of brutes ; and believers them
selves are sometimes too apt to cling as fast to their inherent graces as
to Christ himaelf, — ' We have forsaken all and followed thee, what ahall we
have therefore ? ' Mat. xix. 27, — and set Christ's crown upon that head.
What pains had the apostle to work the Romans and Galatians from their
own righteousness ! A desire of a legal justification is inbred. This might
be the case of them in the text, when Christ would take them off from their
admired shadows, to feed only upon him the subatance ; to eat his flesh and
drink his blood, to beheve only in him for eternal hfe. Sure I am, the
Jewiah nation split themselves to shivers upon this rook, in a calm gun-
shine of the gospel, in endeavouring ' the establishment of their own right
eousness of God,' Rom. x. 3. This seems to begin early. Before the flood,
it is uncertain whether idolatry was set up in the world, or whether after
the flood, before the confusion of languages ; but resting upon their services,
and neglecting the promiae of the mediator, aeema to be that wherein their
unbelief did consist. The patriarchs,* Adam, Seth, &c., had the promise of
* Melanot. loc. octav. p. 230, 23, i.

358 chabnock's woeks. [John VI. 64.
a mediator, and of pardon of sin in him, and had external rites and modes of
sacrificing delivered to them by God, aa signs of the promise and props of
their faith ; these rites and sacrifices, they, i. e. the old world, kept up and
performed, without considering the doctrine of the promise and faith ; and
it ia likely that they entertained an opinion, that by those ceremoniea they
did merit the favour of God, and pardon of sin. This is hkely to be Cain's
miscarriage; he did offer to God, but without that faith which seasoned
Abel's sacrifice, Heb. xi. 4 ; his eye therefore was not fixed upon the promised
seed, but probably expected God's acceptance of his offering and favourable
return to him upon the account of the offering itself The object of the
worship was the same ; Cain brought his offering to the Lord, Gen. iu.^ 3 ;
the difference was in the sacrifice, and in the inward principle of offering.
His offering did not represent the mediator, as a bloody sacrifice would have
done ; the principle of his offering was not faith in the Mediator; for though
he desired to be accepted, yet he desired that acceptation without respect to
the promised seed. After the deluge, the boldness of men grew to a greater
height, they framed other deities, and so departed from the knowledge of
the true God, and the promise of a redeemer. And so hkewise after Moses,
when ceremonies were instituted to be mementoes of a mediator, the multi
tude, though they professed their belief in the promise of a Messiah, and
were the only church God had in tbe world, yet were forgetful of the intent
and design of this promise, and rested not upon it for the free pardon of
their sins for the sake of this mediator ; but fancied that their sins were
forgiven for the sake of the rites and sacrifices under the law. After the
gospel shone upon the world, yet the professors of it were very inclinable to
expect a justification by their own works. To oppose which was the great
design of the apostle in his epistles to the GentUe churches. And afterward,
men profeaaing the Christian religion swerved from the main principle of it,
and expected to gain pardon by monastic vows, oblations in the mass, inter
cessions of dead men, rather than by Christ. So that this principle of a
self-righteousness and dependence upon external services, with the neglect
of the mediator, being the thing God contended with the Jews for, as well
aa their idolatry, before the incarnation of Christ, and with others after his
death and resurrection, and this being an evil which runs in the stream of
nature, we may well suppose it to be the main thing which was the cause of
the wickedness, and the destruction of the old world, since it is not clear
that they had framed any idols to worship. And since barefaced idolatry
is exploded among us, this principle of a self righteousness is more spfritu
ally lurking in us, whereby we invalidate the redemption by Chriat.
(7.) The naturalness of unbelief is evidenced by the difficulty of beliering
under the highest means, and greatest testimonies of a divine authority.^
[1.] The eloquence of Christ was admirable. Grace was in his lips.
Since he was both the Word of God, and Wisdom of God, his words were
enough to divide the aoul, and break the rock ; they were like a hammer to
bruise, like a gentle shower to mollify ; yet how few were either broken by
his thunders or melted by his lightnings ! He acquainted them with the
truth, yet they did not believe, John viii. 46. His miracles were stupen
dous, and above the united force of men and devils ; they were undeniably
the works of his Father, John x. 37, 88, yet they believed not. Nicodemus,
who had some respect for him, and inclinations to him, thinking him ' a
prophet come from God,' John iii. 2, understood no more the doctrine of
faith in Christ, and a new birth, after Christ's explanation of it, than he
did at the first declaration : ver. 9, ' How oan these things be ? ' He was
a man of eminency, and in Israel too, ver. 10. It had been no wonder if

John VI. 64.] who aee unbelievebs. 359
one of the common people had been ignorant, or a great heathen philosopher,
bred up in the sink of idolatry, should neither have nnderatood nor believed ;
but a master, a doctor in Israel, a reader of the prophets, so lately taught
by John Baptist, who was sent to prepare him for the doctrine of the
Messiah, not to believe that which was clear in the propheta, is a declaration
of the natural stupidity of men in the things of Christ. It waa but a little
faith the apostles had, who were constant attendants upon Christ, spectators
of his miracles, hearers of his instructions, and those more plainly delivered
to them than to the multitude. How often doth our Saviour upbraid them
with the slowness of their hearts to believe.* The death and resurrection
of Christ are the two necessary foundations of our redemption, the one of
hia satisfaction, the other of his discharge ; yet his disciples were hardly
brought to believe either of these ; and though Christ did plainly assert
both, especially.jthe certainty and necessity of hia death, in several discourses
with them, yet Peter, who had the greatest insight into the mystery of
Christ, presumed to rebuke him for apeaking of so incredible a thing as the
death of him, who by his own confession was the Son of God. And for his
resurrection, though he had often asserted it should be, in as plain worda as
might be, and fixed the time, within three daya, yet they had not the least
thought of it, and whin it waa reported to them that he was risen, they had
not faith to believe it, though confirmed by witnesses of their own com
pany, whose honesty they knew to be without exception ; and it was so
great, that he gives them a sharp rebuke for it: Mark xvi. 14, ' He upbraided
them with their unbelief and hardneaa of heart, because they believed not
them which had seen him after he waa risen.' After the apostles were risen
to a great height of faith, they found it difficult to persuade men, with all
the miraculous assistances of the Holy Ghost. That first great miracle of
the descent of the Spirit upon them. Acta ii. 6, 11, wherein the majesty and
power of God, and the divine authority of Christ, were evidently manifested,
in endowing poor fishermen with the gift of tongues, who were never out of
the confines of Judea, were skilled in no language but their own, could now
speak not one or two languages, but many, not those of the neighbours, but
those of the greatest distance, with which nations they could not have had
any commerce ; yet what an unreasonable construction do the unbelieving
Jews put upon it : ver. 13, ' These men are full of new wine.' No reason
could second their reproach ; such an excess had rather hindered their
speaking plainly in their own tongue than furnished them with an ability to
speak sense in languages they never before understood. Unbelief invents
foolish reasons against that whioh hath the clearest reason to support it.
Are our souls less overgrown with an enmity to God ? Is unbehef leas
natural to us than it was to them under the power of so many miracles, the
miracles of Christ, when they called him a wine-bibber, and the miracle of
the descent of the Spirit, when they assert the heavenly gift to be the effect
of drunkenness ? If it were not settled in nature, what is the reason that
among multitudes to whom the gospel waa preached, so few embraced it,
though the things proposed were in tiiemaelves desirable, and suited so well,
in respect of the bleaaedness promised, to the natural appetites of men ? It
was the complaint, that few believed their report. In all ages many, nay,
most, have been so far from embracing Chriat, that they persecuted the
gospel and professors of it. He hath been despised not only by the blinder
sort of people, but by many of the most elevated underatandings in earthly
affairs. By the Jews, too, who had the promisea of the Messiah made to '
them, who expected him about that time, who had so many prophecies
* Davenant, de Justitia, cap. xvi. p. 282.

860 chabnock's woeks. [John VI. 64.
deciphering him, which all had their accomplishment in his person ; who
were amazed at the miraclea wrought in his life, and those which attended
him at hia death ; and can unbelief now be less natural to us, who have
those things by report, than it was to them who were eye-witnesses of them?
I might add also, that the production of faith by an almighty power is a
testimony of the naturalness of unbehef For were it not so, there would
be no more need of the arm of omnipotency to be revealed in the engender
ing this grace in our hearts, than in furnishing us with any human science,
for which we have a natural capacity in our understandings. Since faith
cannot be infused but by an almighty strength, unbelief cannot be dis-
posseaaed but by the same power, and therefore is rooted in our nature, and
friendly embraced by it. It is therefore obvious enough, I hope, that since
the Scripture hath told us of the paucity of believera in aU ages, and that
the exceeding naturalness of it to us ia so great and plain, it must be
granted, that there may be in this age, and among us, as great a number
of unbelievers under the preaching of the gospel, and among professors,
too, proportionably, as there have been in other agea and places of the
world. II. Who are unbehevers ?
No queation but there are many among us inwardly guilty of a notional.
unbehef, many more guilty of a practical. We have no open idolatry among
ua, — I mean those of the Protestant party in oppoaition to the Romanists, —
yet ia there not an inward practical and interpretative idolatry in the con
versations of men ? There is not an absolute atheism, or a plain and open
denial of a God, yet there is a denial of him in works, Titus i. 16. As God,
so Christ, may be denied in works under a profession of him. The testi
mony of works is deeper and clearer than that of words ; the frame of men's
hearta is rather to be measured by what they do than by what they say.
As such men therefore are more notorious atheists who believe a God and
walk contrary to that belief, than those that deny the being of a God and
do those things which are more agreeable to the laws of God than the other ;
so those are more notorious unbelievers that profess an assent to the doctrine
of Christ and faith in bim, than those that deny his'person and office, and
yet walk in ways more corresponding with the strictness of his precepts.
All that profess faith in Christ, without the vital operations of faith, are
unbelievera. We can no more aay a man believes who hath no essential
act of faith, than that a man lives who exeroiseth no function of life. There
may be a nominal life with a real death, like those of Sardis, Rev. ui. 2, a
faith in appearance without a faith in reality. There may be an abhorring
of Christ with the soul even by Judah : Zech. xi.' 8, ' My soul loathed them,
their soul also abhorred me.' It is as impossible there can be faith without
fruits, as that a tree can live without bringing forth fruita proper to ita kind.
There is no question but those are infidela that have an opinionative contra
diction against the gospel, who are a gainsaying people, aa the Jews are
termed, Rom. x. 21, who at this day call the New Testament a heap of lies,
px t'l'''^-* Such that may be of that pope's mind, Gregory IX., who is
reported to have called Moses and Christ, as well aa Mahomet, tres Bala-
trones, the common barreters or incendiaries of the world. And as httle
are they to be counted believera that eateem the Christian religion no better
than a certain suspicion of ' one Jesus being dead, who is affirmed to be
alive,' Acts xxv. 19 ; that have some fioating imaginationa of the truth of it,
but Hot a atttled certainty. Those that resist the grace of God, that value
¦* Clark's Sermons, p. 115, out of Matthew Paris.

John VI. 64.] who aee unbelievebs. 861
Christ no more than a dog doth a heap of spices or a bag of delicate per
fumes ; those that strike the blood of the Lamb of God upon their thresh
olds to be mixed with the dirt of their feet, whioh they should sprinkle
upon the poats oftheir doors, the facultiea oftheir souls. .
_ But to waive these at present. Let us consider those that pretend to be
disciples of Chriat.
1. How many that go under the name of Christians are ignorant and
inconsiderate ! He that is not rooted in spiritual knowledge can never be
rooted in faith ; those that see not the beauty of Christ can never account
him a fit object of trast. Faith can never be the daughter of ignorance.
Only those that know Christ will put their trust in him — Ps. ix. 10, ' They
that know thy name wiU put their trust in thee ; for thou. Lord, hast not
forsaken them that seek thee ' — and that know him to be one that doth not
forsake them that seek him. Belief is an inteUectual act ; how can any
beheve till they know what they are to believe ? The object must be known
before any faith can be exercised about it. If we would believe a man, we
must first know him to be a person of credit. The ground must be known
to be firm before any man will trust the weight of his body upon it. We
must know God in his ways, so as to judge him faithful, before we can rely
upon his promise : ' Sarah judged him faithful that had promised,' Heb.
xi. 11. If there be no light in the mind, there oan be no motion in the will :
'He that walks in darkness knows not whither he goes,' John xii. 35, nor
what to lay hold on for his support. How can they be counted believers
that know not what Christ ia, what offices he is invested with, that cannot
give an account of the doctrine of Christ, that never considered the nature
of a Christ, the necessity of a Saviour, the corruption of their nature, the
immortality of their souls, the judgment to come ; who have only some loose
thoughts of these things, and therefore cannot have but a loose and shadowy
faith at the best, which ia an unbelief in the account of Christ ? And are
there not many among us that understand not what Christ and a spiritual
righteousness is, that know not their own wants, and so cannot value Christ's
worth ?
2. How many receive not the gospel upon a divine account ? There are
several outward engines which move men to profess the Christian religion :
authority of magistrates and superiors, education and custom, respect to
some peraons valued by them. Some are Christians because Christianity
hath been handed to them from their ancestors, and can give no other reason
why they are so but because they were bred up in it. The religion of the
state is the rule also of many men's religion. What else should make those
tribes of Israel, who were fond of the temple-worship in Solomon's time,
turn speedy votaries to ike calves at Dan and Bethel under Jeroboam's reign,
and at last totally revolt from God ? Such a founded Christianity is no
more sufficient to denominate any man a believer, than a flock of sheep, used
to the voice of the shepherd from their fir.st yeaning, and to follow his
whistle wheresoever he goes, can upon that account be said to be rational
creaturea. (1.) The motives of this faith are merely human. The object of faith is
divine, but the motive human ; the faith therefore produced by it cannot be
divine ; the effect cannot be of an higher nature than the cause. This be
hef is as vain as Christ declares the worship to be which is ' taught by the
precepts of men,' Mat. xv. 9. Though they have the material object of
faith,* yet they have not the formal object, wliich is the divine authority or
truth revealed in it. They take it up from custom and the instructions of
* Lingend. tom. i. p. 323.

362 chabnock's wobks. [John VI. 64.
their childhood, but not from the true motive of faith. As some men may
perform aots of moral vfrtue, not from principles and motives of rirtue, and
so may do a righteous act, though not righteously, so those have the object
of faith without a principle of faith, and pretend a behef of the truth, but
not believingly. The material part of Christianity, without the formal, is
just like a carcase, which hath the matter of a man, but not the enlivening
and quickening soul. Though they hit upon the profession of the true reh
gion by some human inducements, this makes them no more Christians and
believers than if a company of wandering cattle, gone astray from their
owner, should break into some ground belonging to their true master in that
place whither they are run, should be understood to do it with an intention
to come into their master's possession, it being an act of chance in them,
and not of choice. It is not the excellency of Christ, but the happiness of
an education, the piety of parents and magistrates, the birth and not the
judgment, makes them Christians. They are behevers by conformity, not
by principle. He that embraceth the Christian rehgion upon such shght or
wrong grounds is so far from being a believer, that he rather sins, because he
doth not use hia reason God hath endowed him with aright in the things of
God ; was the speech of a philosopher* whose new notions have been thought
to minister too great an occasion to the atheism of our times.
(2.) This kind of faith hath no stronger a foundation than the belief of any
heathen or idolater in the world. The same motives that excite the papists
to observe the superstitions and idolatries of Rome, a heathen to adore the
idols of his country, a Turk to cry up the divine authority of Mahomet, a
Jew to hate the Lord of life, because they have received those ways of pro
fession from their ancestors, and have sucked them in with the milk of their
infancy, — such and no higher motives have common Christiana for thefr faith
in Christ. The same arguments which make others refuse him, make them
profess him, and had they been educated in any of thoae waya, they would
have been aa fond adorers of idols, as now they are professors of Christ,
and would have been as ready to drink blood as wine, aa sheep wiU follow
their first leader into a slough as well as a fat pasture. This is no better
than to be heathens in Christianity, since they both agree in tbe same
inducement of their faith, which can be no more called a true faith, than the
Athenians' altar ' to the unknown God ' could be called a true worahip, Acts
xvii. 23 ; they worshipped they knew not whom, and they knew not why.
This is an unbelieving belief and a chUdish Christianity, if it proceeds no
further. True faith may be ushered in thia way, as the faith of the Samari
tans was by the report of the woman, testifying that Christ had told her
all that ever she did, John iv. 39, but afterwards was transplanted to
another ground, and set upon a stock of knowledge, — ver. 42, ' Now we
beheve, not because of thy saying : for we have heard, and know that this
is indeed the Christ, the Sariour of the world,' — and indeed was a greater
faith than we find at that time in the apostles ; for they beheve him not only
to be tbe Messiah, and a Saviour of the seed of Abraham, as the apostles
did, but of the world ; acknowledging thereby the whole world sunk into
miaery, under a necessity of a redeemer, and this Jesus to be the person
appointed by God for the redemption of it.
(3.) Such a belief is rather a disparaging of God and Christ, than a
believing in them. If we embrace divine truths out of affection or interest
in persons or parties, and for the sake of the instruments which convey
them, rather than of God who reveals them, we believe not in God but in
man; our faith terminates in the publisher, whether parent, or magistrate, or
* Descartes Prin. Philos. Bespon. ad secundas object, pp. 78, 79.

John VI. 64.] who aee unbelievebs. 363
neighbour, not in God. If the motive of our belief is not the authority of
God, but the influence of some creature on ua, or becauae wise, learned, and
holy men believe it, we postpone the credit of a wise and holy God to that
of a wise and holy creature, and ascribe a greater veracity to that than to
the Creator ; so that though the matter ofour faith be divine, yet the manner
of our acknowledging discredits the authority and faithfulness of God. As
if we beheve this or that divine truth dehvered in the word, not because it
is there delivered, and hath the stamp of God's authority upon it, but be
cause it is in itself undeniable to principles of reason, we believe ourselves
rather than God, and thereby reproach and dishonour him, by setting our
reason, not as a subject to him, but as a judge of him, and what he dictates.
The creation of the world is a matter of faith revealed in the word : Heb.
xi. 3, ' By faith we understand,' &c. It is also a truth assented to by reason.
But if we acknowledge the creation of the world only upon the account of
reason, and not in the respect of the revelation of God, God accounts it not
as an honour to him, for it is not a respect to the word of God, but to our
own rational principle. To believe, therefore, a dirine trath upon hiiuuan
grounds, is to regard man as more infalhble, true, and honest, than God
himself. As we are to obey because God commands, though men may com
mand the same things too ; and if we perform a thing merely because our
superiors enjoin us, though it be a divine command also, and part of the
law of God, it is not an obedience to God, but to our superiors ; ao when
we believe a divine truth revealed to the world by God, not upon the credit
of God, but the credit of the persons that acquaint ua with it, it is not a be
lief of God but of man : as if a master orders his servant to go upon such an
errand, and he cheerfully and willingly goes, because he hath some business
to do that way by the by, this cheerfulness ariseth not from a principle of
obedience to his master, but from the opportunity of serving hia own turn.
As it ia thus in obedience, so it ia also in the behef of men. Also, when men
will assent to no more of the articles of the word than what is made clear to
them by natural reason, as well as Scripture arguments, this is not a faith.
Though they believe some of the fundamentals, yet if they believe not all
those that are fundamental, they truly believe not any one ; because if they
did believe one upon account of the dirine authority revealing it, they would
believe all. For aa it is a certain maxim. He that breaka one law of God
breaks the whole, James ii. 10, because he despiseth the authority com
manding, so he that discredits one article of faith believes not any, because
he undervalues the authority revealing one as well as the other. Though
the materials of faith be divided into many things, even as many truths as are
revealed, yet the foundation and motive of faith is but one, viz., the authority
of God ; aa, though the law be divided into several commands, yet the
authority commanding all is one and the same. He that refuseth a belief
to any one article, though he doth not deny aU, yet he believes none with a
divine faith ; for if he did believe any one with a divine faith, he hath tbe
same reason to believe every one, because the same authority runs through
the veins of all, and ia aa infallible in one as another. If we received any
one truth aa teatified by the Spirit of God, we should receive all the truths
the Spirit witnesseth to. Those that are charged in the text with unbelief,
might believe many thinga that Christ said, for they are called his disciples ;
hut not receiving them from him as a person appointed by God as the
Messiah, they are said not to believe ; all thefr faith in other things was no
faith. Let us then try ourselves by this, what are the motives of our profession
of Christianity ? If they be merely human, we are unbelievers in our be-

364 chabnock's woeks. [John VI. 64;
lieving, and are the disciples of men, not the disciples of Chriat. A pro
fession now cannot lay such claim to sincerity as those sudden conversion^
to and acknowledgments of Christianity could in the primitive times J
because then the civil power did not countenance it, no carnal interest
could encourage them in it, none but inward and spiritual motives could
prevail upon them for the owning of it. But since it hath been delivered
to us through a long succession of ages, and it is become, m. part, our out
ward interest to be external professors of it, the profession ia not aufficient
to entitle a man a behever, unleaa his motives be as divine as theirs.
3. All those who do not dUigently seek after that which is proposed in
the gospel, come into this rank of unbelievers. As the psalmist argues the
atheism of men from their not seeking God, Ps. xiv. 1, 2, and the apostle
the unrighteousness of men from the same ground, Rom. iii. 10, 11, so the
unbelief of men may be demonstrated from their non-inquiry after Christ,
the benefits offered, and the precepts enjoined by him. When we have no
valuations of it, when the gospel is not esteemed as the richest jewel, the
sweetest dainties, the most ravishing comforts ; when it is not sought after
with ardent affections, it ia not thought worthy of acceptation by the whole
man. Can he be supposed to believe he hath a soul, who never minds it ?
Or oan he believe that there is a Saviour, who can go whole months and
years without inquiries after him ? He that is desperately sick and wounded,
and hears of an infalhble medicine without employing all his industry to pro
cure it, is either in love with the wound, or doth not believe the medicine so
sovereign as is reported ! Can we believe that to be necessary for us, that
we have no heart to think of? Whosoever is more diligent in things of an
inferior concern, supposeth them in his judgment more capable to administer
satisfaction to him than the things of Christ. Can we be called behevers,
if we be no more moved than stones vrith the purchase and promise of
Christ ? Insensibleness and unbelief are inseparable companions: Acts
six. 9, they ' were hardened, and believed not.' If we were informed of a
place full of all earthly advantages, and rich commodities at an easy rate,
how ambitious would men be to set out ships to be intereated in the trade,
or at least inform themselves of the truth of the report. If men did beheve
the gospel, and the rewards of another world, could they sit yawning, with
folded arma, without making inquiries after them ? Would they not be full
of great undertakings for them ? How can our underatandinga be fully pos-
seased of the goodness of that which our wUls do not ardently pursue ? If
our minds believe it, why do not our wills embrace it ? What bar is there
between the understanding and the will ? In other things, the laat judgment of
the mind is followed: what that pronounceth good, the will is presently upon
the track of; what makes the stop here, if the gospel were assented to. The
order of God's working is according to the order of nature, the understanding
first enlightened, then the will inclined. If then the will be not inclined to
the things of Christ, the understanding was never fully prevailed upon to
assent to the truths of Christ. Belief among men is a vigorous act, that
makea them govern themselves according to their persuasions ; and why
should it be less in matters of religion ? If Paul believe the knowledge of
Christ so excellent, he will 'press forwards towarda the mark,' Philip, in. 8,
12, 14. He wiU follow after, he will thrust through a crowd of temptations
to gain Christ. Can we then be said to beheve that Christ hath expiated
our sins, calmed the wrath of God, stands ready to knock off our chains, and
hath prepared a blessed residence in paradise, without seeking the enjoyment
of such necessary benefits ? The sottishness of tbe Jewish ralers is a picture
of that which will be in some men to the end of the world. They sent a..

John VI. 64.] who aee unbelievebs.- 365
committee of their Sanhedrim to John Baptist to know whether he was the
Messiah, John i. 19 ; they were persons of authority and learning among
them, ' priests and Levites ;' they were sent from Jerasalem, from the great
council, to know what his calling was : ' Who art thou ?' John told them he
was not the Messiah, but that the Messiah was come, and among them, ' whom
they knew not,' ver. 26. Now it is strange that those men who expected the
Messiah about that time, and came to John for that end, to know whether he
was the person (for when they asked him, ' Who art thou ?' he answered, ' I
am not tbe Christ,' ver. 20, intimating that the intent of their coming to him
was to know whether he was the Christ), should not ask him where the
Messiah was, who was this person that he said was among them, and greater
than he, how they should know him that was so near to them, and how he
himaelf knew him. But they depart without aaking one ayllable of this
nature, which John gave them so full an opportunity to inquire into, as if
they were resolved to reject him before they knew him. They are imitated
in the world to this day. If we aeek him with loose affections, it is a sign we
have only some suspicions of the necessity of him, not a certainty ; a faint
search ariseth from a weak conjecture.
4. Profane persona are unquestionably unbelievera. A diabolical life and
a believing heart are contradictions. No man can with any reason lay claim to
a faith in Christ, who prefers the pleasures of the world before the sweetness
of a Redeemer, that which is an offence to him before that which is his de
light, the weight of sin before the yoke of Christ. How can they believe in
Christ that are carried down with the violent current of their own lusts, and
regard not one tittle of his law ? If faith be full of good works, a scarcity of
them impliea an emptineas of faith.
(1 .) The proper effect of faith is to purify the heart. Acts xv. 9 ; where there
fore the kennel of the life and the sink of the heart are not purified, there is no
faith. What wants the essential effect hath nothing of the cause. If ' un
feigned faith' be always attended with ' a pure heart and good conscience,'
1 Tim. i. 5, then that faith which is attended with an impure heart and a
defiled conscience ia a counterfeit faith. If a good man fall into any sin,
there is first a flaw in his faith ; the soundness of that would prevent the
disease of sin. Hence Christ prays that Peter's faith might not fail, implying
that if that kept firm he would give no kindly glance to a temptation, to
cursing, swearing, and denying his master. Let no man boast therefore of
his faith, if it leaves him in the mire of vice. It is an idol of faith, such an
one that the apostle calls but a carcase of faith, James ii. 26, a dead faith,
nay, ranks it with the faith of devils, who believe and tremble, who have no
profit by it but a aense of damnation before the time. Is it not a faith worse
than that of devils ? They have a belief with a fear ; aome boaat of a faith
in Christ, but a want of fear. A profane faith, an adulterous faith, a drunken
faith, are contradictions.
(2.) ' He that commits sinia of the devU,' 1 John iii. 8, not of Christ. He
that is under the devU's empire never was Christ's subject by beheving. The
language of their practice is the same with that of the eril spirits, ' What have
we to do with thee, thou Jesus of Nazareth ?' Not to believe the truth, and
have pleasure in unrighteousness, in the unrighteousness of nature, in the
unrighteousness of practice, are made one and the same thing, 2 Thes. ii. 12.
The knowledge of God makes men at least escape the pollutions of the world,'
2 Peter ii. 20. This is the lowest degree ; whence in consequence is clear
that those that are bemired with the poUutions of the world have not the
knowledge of Christ. We have no acquaintance with Christ if we cherish
those works which Christ came to dissolve and melt away by his blood, and

366 chabnock's woeks. [John VI. 64.
go about to settle the sovereignty of the devil against the authority of the
Redeemer. Can you imagine him to be a loyal subject who gives himself
that character, when you see him with arms in his hands against his prince
and country ? Nor is he a Christian, whatsoever he may call himself who is
a rebel against Christ his sovereign. Such are loath to be thought to doubt
of the truth of the gospel, but thefr lives proclaim that they do not in the
least doubt of the falseness of it. Is it possible 'that thoae ahould beheve
that God sent his Son to die for them, who will not let a lust die to salve his
glory in the world ? A descent to brutishness can never be an assent to
Christianity'; a filthy swine may as well be a believer as a sensualist in that
atate ; ' as brute beasts they corrupt themselves,' walking in the ways of their
own heart. Whatsoever some of the Philippians might profess, yet making
' their belly their god,' the apostle affords them no better character than ' ene
miea of the cross of Christ,' Phihp. iii 18, 19. It is not opinion but practice
distinguisheth a Christian from a pagan. Vile lusta are appropriated to the
Gentiles as their will ; they are not the qualifications of a believer'a will, 1
Peter iv. 3. No man can receive Christ, but he must receive him as a refiner,
Mai. iii. 8, with the blood of sprinkling, which purgeth the inwards of the
heart, as well aa the skirts of the conversation, and sets an edge upon the
conscience against everything that is contrary to the plain precept of Christ,
and brings the thoughts and desires under his law and yoke. Profane men
are the disciples of Epicurus, not the disciples of Jesus. It is as impossible
for a man to be an invisible heliever and a visible atheist, as to be a man and
a toad at the same time.
5. All that live in a constant omission of known duties (though they are
not guilty of the grosser open sins), are unbehevers.* Every omission of
good, or commission of evil, is not an eridence of positive infidelity (v^ho
could, then, have the noble title of a believer ?), but when the omission is a
constant courae. As every actual omission ia a fruit of partial unbehef, so
all habitual omissions are signs of habitual unbelief, when they are not ac
companied with a self-condemnation in the case, and resolutions of reform
ing for the future. How can we be aaid to believe in Christ, if we own not
the power of that religion he hath instituted, and the holiness of it in the
duties it requires, as well as the pleasure of it in the privileges it bestows ?
When our sloth will not permit us to rise at Christ's call ; when our thoughts
do but now and then hit upon him, as a bird upon a branch ; when his
service is a vile thing in our eyes ; when we can with aa good a heart over
look dutiea as perform them ; when we make other things our business, and
the precepts of Christ our burden, ia this a believing on him ? Faith fights
against all iniquity, and obeys not God by parcels and retail. He that can
not endure the injunctions of the gospel in the fulnesa and extent oftheir
holiness, is an unbeliever : 2 Peter ii. 21, ' they tum from the holy com
mandment,' because of the purity of its commands, and the universal obedi
ence it requires ; there is an enmity to it in the hearts of men. The gospel
is a ' doctrine according to godliness,' 1 Tim. vi. 3-5. If we do not con
sent to the godliness of it, but doat about questiona and curiosities ; if we
receive the light of it into our heads, and not the religion of it into our
hearta, we are destitute of the truth, know nothing, believe nothing. If we
make light of what God commands, we are no more Christians than the most
ignorant Indian and heathen in America ; we are not so good aa a Jew, who
believes the Old Testament, practiseth those duties it enjoins, and the legal
rites which he supposeth still in force. Worse we are, if our hearta be not
moulded according to the form of the gospel ; for Christianity is not a specu-
* Jackson's quarto, changed.

John VI. 64.] who aee unbelievebs. 367
lation, or a dead notion, but an active principle, mastering every faculty of
the soul ; aa active in the will aa it ia clear in the understanding. He is
more an infidel that assents to the truth of a proposition, and the doctrine
of the gospel, and yet denies obedience to it, than he that denies the divine
authority of it, yet walks morally, and performs the duties incumbent upon
him to man ; becauae he in aome measure doth that which he denies, the
other denies that which he doth profess. The one's denial is verbal, the
other's real ; one hath a moral conscience, the other a vain religion, James
i. 26. Habitual sins are evidences that we are not implanted in Christ by
faith, but atill under a covenant of works : Rom. vi. 14, ' Sin shall not have
dominion over you : for you are not under the law, but under grace.' The
reign of any one sin in the heart, whether of omission or commission
(though it be not of the grosser sort marked by the world), is inconsistent
with that faith whioh interests us in the covenant of grace ; for true faith
expels sin from the heart, as a candle doth darknesa from the lantern wherein
it is placed. All the doctrinea and propositions in Christianity do in their
own nature lead to an holy practice. The articles of the conception, incar
nation, and life of the Son of God, are incentives to be like our great head
and master. The gospel frees us not from the natural obligation upon us aa
creatures to obey God ; nay, Christ by his death could not free us from it,
because the law of nature is immutable and perpetual. As by hia death he
did not free us from being creatures, so neither could he free us from the
obligation which lies upon us as creatures ; but the satisfaction Christ made
to God increaaeth the obligation ; for whereas before we were to obey God
aa creatures, we are now bound to obey God aa redeemed creatures ; there
fore he that is as diaobedient to the precepta of Christ as if Christ had never
died, hath not a faith in his blood, nor any sense of the obligation of it.
How ia it poaaible a man should believe Chriat to be the true prophet of
God,* without embracing his doctrine ? How can we believe him to be an
High Priest dying to expiate our sin, without loving him, reflecting often
upon our sin with sorrow, and shewing our gratitude in a course of habitual
obedience ? How can we believe him to be a mighty and gracious King,
without reverencing and fearing him ? How oan we believe the gospel to be
a divine truth, without devoting ourselves to that holiness which it enjoins,
under the penalty of never seeing God vrithout it ? We cannot be persuaded
of hia divinity without giving credit to his doctrine, nor believe hia doctrine
without conforming to his law. If, therefore, the will of Christ be contemned
in any one thing, we may be assured we believe not the gospel of Christ.
If we would put such base conditions upon him, as to have a reserve of any
one lust in our hearts, we dishke his terms, disown his royal dignity ; and
though we would acknowledge him our Saviour, we make him an insignificant
Lord. If we have no love to him and his commands, we have no faith
in him.
Therefore they do not believe,
(1.) Who wholly neglect the means of grace. He that rejects his word,
rejecta his peraon, because he rejects all the means of the discovery of him
self, which he after his ascension left upon the earth. What his messengers
declare according to his order and the rule of his word, is as if he himself
declared it ; whence the apoatle tella the Epheaians, Eph.^ i. 17, that
Christ preached peace to them ; not by himself, for he waa never in peraon
there, but by his apostle. Those that contemn all the means God hath
appointed, may be rationally thought not to beheve any one article of Chris
tianity, though they usurp the name of Christians. By the same reason
* Daill6 sur Jean iii. p. 792.

368 ohaenock's woeks. [John VI. 61.
that faith purifies the heart, it puts a man upon all those means which may
promote that purification, and increase the vigour of a divine life. They
that wUl not ' know the joyful sound,' have no mind to ' walk in the light
of God's countenance,' Ps. Ixxxix. 15.
(2.) Who never look into the Scripture. Have they a faith in Christ who
have no mind to know his will ? "What a contempt of a prince would it be
to neglect the reading a kind letter from him, or a commanding order ! The
gospel brings men to obedience by its promises and threatenings, as by moral
instruments : 2 Cor. vii. 1, ' Having those promises, let us cleanse ourselves.'
If we never look into them, it is a sign we have no mind to believe them, or
be under the influence of them. When the credit of them is weakened, the
officacy of them is lost ; for no moral instrument can work without an assent
to it. Who oan be said to believe in Christ, that hath no mind to under
stand his doctrine, and read the records of his wiU ? What little credit
hath God with us, when we do not constantly take hold of that cord which
God lets down from heaven to fetch our souls up to him ! The belief of an
eternal life is httle or none, if the Scriptures are not searched, which point
out the way to it, John v. 39. He that will not dig into it, doth not imagine
any treasure laid up in it, and believes not anything of a legacy of grace in
the will and testament of Christ, that flings it at his heels, or only reads it
as a story, and a thing of course.
(3.) Who never pray to God, or content themselves with formal and
customary addresses to him. Thia sin of unbelief, being in its own nature
' a departure from God,' Heb. iii. 12, a total neglect of any approach to
him, or an unwillingness to have any commerce with him, testifies this sin
to be predominant in the heart. He scarce believea there is a God, that wiU
not offer him a spiritual sacrifice, and give him in this duty the glory of all
his attributes. Prayer is the first act of faith, the vital act of the new
creature ; ' a spirit of grace and supplication' are inseparable, Zech. xii. 10 ;
God gives not one without the other. A still-born child is a dead child ; a
prayerless Christian is a dead Christian, that hath nothing of the life of
faith ; crying is natural to a child, it is not learned by art. Where there is
a full assent to the truths of the gospel (which is the first act of faith), it
engenders a vehement appetite for the benefits of it. Prayer is nothing but
a reducing this appetite into act, and proposing it to God ; the total omis
sion of it, or constant slight performance, is a sign of a dissent from the
gospel. We cannot but be zealous for those things we believe to be true
and necessary ; but when we think the benefit will not recompense the pain
and labour, we shall be cold and dull. Where there is a performance of
this duty out of natural conscience, but a faintness and languisbment in it,
it is a sign of too great a predominancy of it, Luke xviii. 7, 8. Christ,
speaking of prayer, and crying day and night, adds, that he should scarce
find faith on the earth at his second coming ; they should be grown dull in
prayer, out of a belief that God would not avenge them.
(4.) Who never exercise any serious sorrow for sin. Where there is a
faith in Christ, there will be a delight in his law ; and a delight in his law
cannot be without a resentment of the riolations of it. It is impossible he
can seriously believe that Christ came to expiate the sin of the world, the
sin of nature, and the streams of it, that is not affected with the evil of that
sin which put Christ to such sorrow. As the Spirit of grace and supplica
tion are inseparable, so a look upon Christ, and a mourning for sin, are un
divided companions, Zech. xii. 10 ; the senae of the sweetness of Christ is
not without a bitterness of soul. Every believer imitates Christ. If Christ
groaned under it, he will groan for it ; he wiU look with a wet eye upon all

John VI. 64.] who aee unbelievebs. 369
corrupt propensions to that which is contrary to him. If a trae believer
would not have a lust live, he cannot but mourn, that notwithstanding all
hia pains, he cannot make it utterly die. No man can believe that Christ
died upon the occasion of sin, and condemned ain by hia death, that doth
not grieve that ever he cherished such an enemy to Chriat, and lament alao
that it is not thoroughly executed as well aa condemned. If we beheve he
ia riaen, should we not bewail our cloga, which hinder us from following him
in a resurrection to a newneas of life ? Faith and love are inseparable both
in habit and act. Peter's faith flagged before he denied his Master ; his
love did not revive till his faith waa out of its swoon ; and both joining
together presently engendered a mourning for his sin ; and we acarce find
Paul, in his highest exercisea of faith, without humbhng reflections upon his
former sin.
6. AU that are wholly sunk into worldly affections are unbelievers. He
that hath an high opinion of the world's fulness, hath an opinion of Christ's
emptiness. Where men's longings are most for the goods of the world, they
are little or nothing for the benefits of the gospel ; they cannot amount to
that hungering and thfrating, that vehemency of desire, for the benefits of
redemption by Chriat. Would not he neglect the lesser things that believed
greater ? Can any man be very earnest to be temporally blessed, who be
heves Chriat came to purchase an etemal happinesa ? Would any man spend
his time in the making of puppets, that believed that, with aa much earnest
ness, he might gain a crown ? Who would ever rake dunghiUs, that believed
a substantial treasure might be posaessed at an easier rate ? Who would
ever sell his birthright for a mess of pottage, that believed it to be an excel
lent pririlege ? Who would drink of a puddle, that did believe a fountain
accessible to him ? He cannot be a believer that values everything above
that Christ he pretends to believe in ; that thinka vain riches or pleasure
worthy of industry, and overlooks the blood and righteousneas of Christ. I
appeal to any, whether such can be accounted believers. A filthy swine may
as well claim the title. The apostle joins the swinish belly-gods and the
covetous earth-worms together, among the professing Philippians, as ' ene
miea to the cross of Chriat,' Phihp. iii. 18, 19. Can enemies to the cross
of Chriat be believers in a crucified Saviour, who is the formal object of faith?
Earth is the furthest distant from heaven, and earthy affections at the greateat
distance from Christ. Job approves the sincerity of his trust in God, by not
having confidence in the things of the earth, as weU as in avoiding the com
mon idolatry of the age. Job xxxi. 24-26. All our revolts from God ariae
from two causes : unbelief of the blessings of the gospel-promise, and deceit-
fulness of sin, in regard of the goods of this world, Heb. iii. 12, 18. To
turn from God infers that there is not a belief that he is an infinite good,*
sufficient for our happiness, and to be valued above all other things ; and to
turn to the creature, as if that were the source of our blesaedneas, implies a
deceitfulness of sin in the understanding, i. e. wrong opinions of God and
Christ, and the things of this world. He that doth not make God his chiefest
good, but placeth hia confidence in anything else, is an unbeliever ; and he
doth not make God his chiefeat good that thinka anything can make him
happy without God, or that thinks God alone cannot make him happy with
out earth. If earthly thinga be prefe»red before supernatural objects, it is
easy to conclude such an one understands not the excellency of that which
he so slights. No man but wUl judge him ignorant of the virtue and worth
of a diamond, that beheves a brass ring to be of greater value, or chooseth a
* Mestrezat in loc.
VOL. rv. -4- a

870 chabnock's woeks. [John VI. 64.
Bristol stone before it. It is as impoaaible to beheve in Christ, and rely upon
the world, as to love God and the world in an equal supremacy ; the love of
this is inconsistent with the love of God, 1 John u. 15. If Moses had pre
ferred the pleasure of the Egyptian court and kingdom before the reproach
of Christ, it had been sufficient evidence of no faith in the Messiah, Heb.
xi. 24, 26. Well, do we believe that the least particle of glory is better than
the empire of the whole world, and yet wUl not deny ourselvea the least
pleasure for heaven ? Do we labour without ceasing, and with a world of
trouble, for a little worldly pelf? this could not be, if we did believe the
excellency of Christ, that he came to overcome the world, and hath writ con
tempt upon it, both in his life and death.
7. Distrusters of the providence and promise of Christ, and murmurers at
his proceedings. There is a constant murmuring antf distrust which shews
the reign of unbehef, as a partial murmuring shews a relic of it: Pa.cvi. 24, 25,
' They believed not hia word, but murmured in their tenta ; ' aa if it were
more desirable to be nnder the Egyptian scourge than God's protection in
the wilderness. This was partial in Abraham ; his faith faltered in the courts
of Pharaoh and Abimelech, when he would save himself by a lie, owning
Sarah to be his sister, who was his wife. But it is from a total unbelief
when there is a despondency without seeking to God, when the heart faints,
and the hands are not lifted up, when men oan weep and howl under their
afflictions, as totally undone, and be shut up in a perpetual silence towards
heaven like a senselesa atake, when they venture upon some forbidden path
for their remedy, and move hell rather than heaven for their relief. This
waa the posture of the heart of Job's wife in that blasphemous adrice to
him : Job ii. 9, ' Curse God and die ;' or a bloody mockery of him, if the
words be translated, as some do,* ' Bless God and die.' You have served God
indeed for a fine reward, you had best go on blessing him still, and meet
with death for your pains. But are you so brutish as not to discern God's
disaffection to you, who else would never have reduced you to those extremi
ties ? And by the like temptation, Satan hoped he should be our Saviour's
conqueror : Mat. iv. 3, 6, ' Command these stones to be made bread.' The
voice from heaven which told you you were the Son of God, was a mere
illusion. Can the Son of God be exposed to auch a condition as to live in a
desert, without refreshment for his hunger, and repose for hia body ? Would
a good father refuse bread to his famished chUd ? If you are therefore the
Son of God, for whom the heavens were opened, and upon whom the Holy
Ghost visibly descended, turn those atones into bread to appease your hunger :
thus he tempted him to impatience with his heavenly Father. Promises are
not beheved where there are disputes against providence, and an unwillingness
to wait upon God for hia wise conduct of affairs and successful event. Faith
crucifies discontents, and unbelief arms them against God and others. When
the soul is out-witted by the smallest crosses, and questiona the proridence
of God upon every occasion, as though he had left the govemment of the
world to chance and the power of men, he hath little eridence to shew for hia
faith. How can we think Christ stored vrith a fulness to redress our neces
sities, if upon every light disappointment we mm-mur against him, and com
plain of his want of truth and love ? How can any trust him with their
immortal souls, when they will not trust him with their perishing concerns ?
Can we believe he has shed his blood for the expiation of our sina (the
greatest affair his divine person could undertake) if we cannot submit to him
for our earthly comforts ? If we resign not ourselves to his wisdom for the
management of these, we shall hardly beheve hia merit sufficient for the pur-
* Durant, Ten tat. du Christ, p. 213, &o.

John VI. 64.] who aee unbelievebs. 371
chase of other. This being the fruit of too much anxiety, which is but the
stream of thia poiaonoua fountain, evidenceth a man aa little a believer as a
heathen who knows nothing of the provision made by Christ. By this Christ
distinguisheth the GentUes from his diaciplea : Mat. vi. 81, 32, ' Take no
thought, saying. What ahall we eat ? and what shall we drink ? and where
withal ahaU we be clothed ? for after aU those things do the Gentiles seek.'
If there be then a predominant impatience (which is a frait of this aohcitoua -
ness, a quality proper to a GentUe), it will render the professor of no higher
elevation in faith than the pagans, who were darkened in their mind, and in
the rubbiah of carnality. We cannot think him a sufficient security for that
part of us which must run along with eternity, when we will not trust him
with the little clay we possess in the world. Little credit can be given to
the promises of the gospel, where there is a prevailing diffidence of his pro
vidential care.
8. Doubters of the grace of God in Chriat. Not every doubt of something
contained in the word before it be clearly known to be in the word ; the
Bereans had then merited a diapraise rather than a commendation. If we
do not examine thinga before we embrace them, we may receive we know not
what, and we know not why. Nor are doubta for reaolution and clearing
thinga revealed tokens of infidelity. Mary's question upon the angel's mes
sage to her of conceiving Jesus, who should be called the Son of the Highest
— Luke i. 34, ' How shall thia be, seeing I know not a man ? ' — was not a
question of unbelief, but of a desire of clearer information in the manner how
this should come to paas. Nor are strong motions of questioning the being
of a God, the truth of redemption, and faithfulness and fulnesa of the pro
mise, testimonies of infidelity, provided they be abhorred and repelled with
an holy indignation. Christ had then been an atheist himself, and a dis-
truster of the promisea made by the Father to him, who was as strongly
moved to it by Satan, as also to fall down and worship that head of rebellion,
aa ever any man was, Mat. iv. Nor are those doubts which arise at the first
conversion, and beginnings of faith, when the state of the aoul is hke to that
of the twilight, a mixture of light and darkness. Nor thoae which sometimes
assault strong believers, as when Asaph doubted whether there were any
mercy left in God, when he imagined God had barred up any motion of his
bowels towarda him. Thia was a start of paasion, a pang of unbelief, not an
evil heart of unbelief; his infirmity: Ps. Ixxvii. 10, ' Thia ia my infirmity.'
A divine spark may live in a smoke of doubt before it aprings into a flame ;¦
this is a partial unbelief, because there is imperfectio actus. But when there
is a prevailing doubting of the goodnesa and truth of the gospel, which is the
property of an absolute unbelief ; or though this be not questioned, yet there
is a doubt of the relation and extent of the promise as to our particular, till
the soul closeth with the promise of God in the gospel, it is an unbelief* It
is not like Peter, who staggered when he began to sink, yet casts a look and
sends forth a cry to Christ, acknowledging his sufficiency : Mat. xiv. 80,
' Lord, save me.' But the soul is like a ship tossed with the waves of the
sea, without an anchor, dashing against every rock and upon every shelf. It
stays not on Christ in the midst of tho?e doubtings, but like Cain cries out,
' My sin is greater than I can bear,' Gen. iv. 13. This is an utter rejection
of the abundance of grace, and a scanty contracting the infiniteness of God's
mercy and Christ's merit, aa though our iniquity were more efficacious than
divine goodness. Though this ia not ao openly frequent among us, there
being more preaumers than despairers, yet this is included in a recourse to
anything but Christ. When we are sensible of the fiery tempest of God's
* Sedgewick's Doubting Believer changed.

372 chabnock's woeks. [John VI. 64.
indignation for sin, as though there were not shadow and shelter enough
under the wing of the Lord Jesus, there is not a behef that he is able and
willing to save all thoae that come to him, but jealousiea of God and of the
authority and divinity of the Scripture entertained and cheriahed, as when
we are jealous of a friend, we shall be so far from believing him, that we
shall misconstrue the plainest and clearest declarations he makes ; as the
Israelites, under the promise of mercy and experience of a deliverance, imagined
God intended nothing but thefr destruction ; that the mercy of manna, quaUs,
and water in the wUderness, were the presages of God's anger with them.
Such habitual doubts and habitual misconstructions, are evidences of habitual
unbelief. All unhumbled persons are not only to doubt, but deapafr, of the
grace of God while they remain in that condition, and wallow in the mire of
the old Adam. God doth not require that we should immediately rely on
Christ without falling out with sin, nor can there be a relying act of faith
without a resigning act ; but when a soul is deeply sensible of ita undone
condition, acoounta itself guilty before God, and will not reach out a hand
to lay hold upon the promise of the goapel, nor bring a veasel to receive ita
treasures ; though auch may be in the way of faith, yet they are at present
in a state of unbelief confusion, and darkness, and at best like meteors
hanging in the afr, and fixed nowhere. They understand not the perfectiona
of God shining forth in Chriat aa an object of trust and confidence. As some
doubtings are a aign of httle faith — ' Why doubt ye, 0 ye of little faith ? ' —
ao habitual doubtings are a sign of a want of faith. When we question the
whole tenor of the gospel, and reaaon againat the design and intention of it,
we cannot in that act be accounted believers.
We might further instance
In hypocrites. No man could be ao prodigiously mad to put on a mask
and personate the outward garb of a convert, without endeavouring after the
inward frame, if he did beheve the declarations of the gospel in its commands,
promises, and threateninga.
In apostates, that begin in the Spirit and end in the flesh; who have an
Hosanna for Christ one day, and, upon a turn of the wind. Crucify him the
next ; that seem to value his blood in their hearts, and shortly trample it
under their feet ; that take their leave of him when the aun ahines hot, or
the storms blow hard, and prefer sin before the reproach of Christ, imagin
ing that to embark in the same bottom with him is to be cast away for ever.
Such a generation is adulterous, Mark viii. 38 ; they absolutely violate the
covenant, and declare they have no mind to keep it. When our professions
rise and fall according to a worldly interest, it is a faith like the motion of a
weather-glass. All indeed who have not the operationa of faith are unbe
lievera. Faith ia an active thing, and can no more lie idle than fire in an
heap of tow.
III. The third inquiry is. What are the causes of unbelief ?
1. Original corruption. From the womb we go astray from God, Ps.
Iriii. 3. Departure from God ia rooted in our nature ;* it growa with ua in
the womb, apringa with us into the world. An evil heart of infidehty is as
old as om- life. We are as much disputers against the promises of God by
nature, as we are rebels against the law of God, and have as little reliance
upon hia truth, as we have conformity to his holiness ; as little will to be be
holden to his mercy, as we have to acknowledge his sovereignty. Our whole
man is enmity to him ; and the object of our enmity ia not one, but aU, the
perfectiona of God. The state of our hearts ia auch by nature that we are
* Sedgewick's Shepherd of Israel, p. 307, changed.

John VI. 64.] who aee unbelievebs. 373.
more prone to believe anything, though an irrational and idle fable, than the
truth of God. Adam did so, and our misery is that we are his children, and
exceeding like him. He would stand by the strength of his own understand
ing, and aimed at a self-suffloiency more than life. He might have eaten of
the tree of life, whioh, say some, was a type of Christ, from whom he was to
expect his confirmation, and to whom he was wholly to aubject his under
standing. It waa by Christ as his head, though not aa the seed of the
woman, that Adam was to be confirmed in an innocent state, as well as the
angels are by him confirmed in a perpetual grace and blessedness. If it be
so (which I do not assert, though it would deserve consideration), our un
behef of Christ, and the benefits offered by him, runs more directly in a blood,
and is more rooted in our nature, than any other sin. It is certain that the
first sin was pride, and unbelief of God's threatening. But upon this notion
his sin was a refusal of Christ aa the root of hia atanding, to settle himself
upon his own bottom, and not wait for hia settlement from the wisdom of
God, by whom he was created. And, as we have declared before the pro
bability of this being the first sin of the deril, ao it is not unlikely but that
this was the first sin of Adam, by the temptation of the devil, endeavouring
to engage man in his party against the Son of God. But that the tree of
life was a type of Christ, the Scripture seema to deny. Gen. iii. 22 ; tha
reaaon rendered of his expulsion from paradise was, lest he should eat of
the tree of life. And God would not have hindered him from acts of faith
on the seed of the woman, which he had so lately promised and proposed to
him as an object of faith.
But howsoever this be, there are two effects of the depravation of nature
that are the causes of unbehef.
(1.) Darkness of the understanding, Eph. iv. 18, whereby it is unable to
see and judge of the spiritual objects presented to it, as the eye possessed
by a beam ia to exercise a visive faculty. Though a natural object hath
such excellent qualities, that if it be understood, it will attract the wiU and
affections to it, and open the arms of the other faculties for the embracing it ;
yet if the mind be ill disposed, and doth not judge of that object according
to its merit, it will refuse it : as offer a man gold and diamonds, who under
stands not thefr worth, he will not be allured by them : a vitiated mind can
aa little behold the beauty of spiritual things, whereby to embrace them with
satisfaction. There must be a concurrence of both the plainness of the ob
ject, and the clearness of the mind, for uniting them together. Though the
sun shines in its glory in the firmament, yet if the eye be blind, there ia no
perception of it, or rejoicing in it.* As the apostle saith of the Jews, ' They
would not have crucified the Lord of glory, had they known him,' 1 Cor.
ii. 8, so men would never reject the gospel, were they sensible of the excel
lency of it. What hinders them from seeing and acknowledging it but sin,
which hath bhnded their minds ? as nothing hinders a man from admiring
the brightneaa and luatre of the sun but the want of his eyes. Vain things
are the objecta the mind made vain by sin doth only underatand, and auch
things it hunts after for satisfaction. Since it is ahenated from the life of
God, it perceives not the light of God. And this natural darkness is too
thick and powerful for the hght or beams of the gospel which ahine into it,
vrithout a spiritual illumination, and an opening the inward eye by the
same almighty power, which can only reatore the eye of the body when the
light of it ia wholly extinct : John i. 5, ' The light ahined in darkness,' i. e.
upon the dark minds of men, ' but the darkness comprehended it not.' From
this darkness of mind springa that alienation from the hfe of God, or that
* Amyraut. Sermons sur divers Texts, p. 466.

374 chabnock's wobks. [John VI. 64.
hfe which we should live by the faith of the Son of God, Gal. ii. 20 ; so
that they do not desfre the spirit of revelation, which can only open the eye,
renew them in their minda, and make them capable of discerning the excel
lency of apiritual objects. When Adam waa in innocence, he did not judge
rightly of what he ought ; there waa a flaw in hia understanding, whereby
he did dissent from the trutha of God's command. So the corruption of onr
nature is first and primarily in our understanding, and flows from thence into
the lower faculties, as many diseases do from the head by catarrhs into the
members of the body.
(2.) Perversity of will, whereby it withstands the impressions of truth, and
beats them back, as the hardness of a wall doth the ball flung againat it,* and
runa as much counter to the will of God's mercy, whereby he would gratify
us, as to the vrill of hia authority, whereby he would have us serviceable to
him. This is expressed by the apostle in the same place : Eph. iv. 18,
' Through the blindness of their hearts (jTrugugiv).' The word translated
blindness, signifies properly a callouaness or hardneas, and it is so translated,
Mark vi. 52, ' They considered not the mfracle of the loaves, for their heart
was hardened ; ' and John, xii. 40, where the hardness of the heart, which is
expressed by this word, is distinguiahed from the blindness of their eyes.
There is a callousness and brawnineas in their heart, whereby it ia rendered
inaensible of spiritual mysteries. The enmity to God is seated in the wUl ;
it is seated by the apostle in the mind, Rom. viii. 7 ; it is indeed radically
there, as liberty ia, but formally in the wUl. We caimot be said to be
enemies to any with our understanding, but in regard of prejudices, prin
ciplea, wrong notiona, which give bfrth and breeding to that averaion we have
in the will to anything ; and the Scripture laya our not coming to Christ upon
the obstinacy and inflexibleness of our wills altogether ; which is evident in
that when God hath expressed himself in the most indulgent manner, offer
ing those blessings which man in his lapsed condition is in absolute need of,
which his own reason in some measure informs him he wants, and when his
own heart tells him in his retirements he can have no true acquiescence in
anything below ; yet there is a backwardness to entertain the gospel with
choice affectiona, a refusal of that with contempt which ahould be entertained
with joy; not only an indisposition in the will to receive it, but a contrary
disposition and stout-heartednesa against it, whioh makes them ' far from
righteousness,' Isa. xlvi. 12 ; a love of darkness, and resistance of light ; that
though the word be in part understood, the heart is not presently converted.
The chains of sin are affected by the soul, it resists Christ when he comes to
file them off, loves the bondage of the one better than the serrice of the other.
' It is ' desperately wicked,' Jer. xvii. 9 ; it hates Christ for speaking the
truth, for pressing a return to God ; it desires not the knowledge of God's
ways, and likes not to retain God in its knowledge. From this depravation
of the will it is that the gospel meets with the greatest opposition when it
first sets footing in a place, or is preaented to a person ; aa there is the
greateat cold in a morning (say aome) about the time of the rising sun,
because the vapoura exhaled are reaisted by the sunbeams, which, being not
powerful enough to conquer and dispel them, do accidentally unite and
strengthen them. So all the sin in man's heart rouseth and arms itself
against that gospel which would destroy it.
2. Insenaibleness of our state ia another cause of unbelief. A congealed
soul oan no more receive the goapel, than frozen fleah can take in salt,
whereby it may be preserved. The Pharisees would not believe but that they
* Sedgewick.

John VI. 64.] [ who aee unbelievebs. 375
could clearly see, though they were absolutely blind : John ix. 40, ' Are we
blind also ? '
(1.) Insensibleness of our lapsed condition, and the miseries attending it.
We have a notion of the fall of man, the propagation of his corruption to ua
by generation ; but the notion in our minds, and a suitable impression upon
our hearts, do not meet together : our heads and hearts are at a greater dis
tance in regard of the influence of the one upon the other in this case, than
the heavena from the earth. If we understood the deplorableneas of it, it
were impossible but we should aeek for a remedy ; and when we can find no
other to satisfy our curiosity, we should acquiesce in the way of the gospel as
the fuUest, safest, and moat gratifying medicine. The physician is not valued
when sickness ia not felt ; when we understand not ourselves ' poor, and
miserable, and bhnd, and naked,' it is no wonder that we account the gospel
foolishness ; and no man oan do any other till he feelingly understand what
he lost, and what he contracted, by Adam. This was the great obstacle in the
Jews ; they so prided themselves in their noble extraction from Abraham,
that they never remembered they were the offspring of Adam : John vUi. 83,
' We are Abraham's seed, and were never in bondage to any man ; how sayest
thou. Ye shall be made free ? ' Do we sensibly understand how much we
have incurred the displeasure of the Lord, defeated the end of our creation,
enslaved ourselvea to vile luata, aubjected ourselves to the devil, the most
desperate rebel againat God, and the incendiary of the world ? Are we
senaible how by Adam's transgression of the precept, we, as weU as himself,
are exposed to all the curses of the law, become guilty before God, aa full of
a stout enmity against that God we have offended, as we are full of a thick
ignorance how to work out our reconcUiation with him ? Are we sensible
that we lie in our blood, are estranged from the life of God and holiness of
God, possessed by a carnal mind and a perverse will, overgrown with poi
sonous weeds in our nature, and jolly with that sin which ia the cause of our
misery ? These are the things the apostle preacheth, Rom. iii., before he
insists on the doctrine of faith, intimating that the only way to faith was a
due impression of that wretched condition by nature ; and the great cause of
unbehef ia an insensibleness or inconsideration of it; and Christ intimates in
that aweet exhortation. Mat. xi. 28, ' Come unto me, all you that labour and
are heavy laden,' that men muat feel the weight and load of the curses of the
law, before they will have recourse to the refreshments of the gospel.
(2.) Insensibleness of the severity of God'a juatice. We fancy a God made
up only of mercy, without reminding ourselves of his wrath, and think that,
because he hath put bowels into creaturea, he hath nothing but bowels in
himself to the worst of rebels. Are we sensible of the steadiness of his trath
to the word of his threatening, the dearness of hia honour to him, and the
dreadfulneaa of his wrath ? Will God make a nullity of his own threatening,
bear the affronts of his creaturea, auffer the honour of hia law to lie without
regard in the duat ; let the creature triumph in rebeUion, and add to his former
ingratitude new darings of heaven ? How can we forget to mind the punish
ment due to our sin ? How can we think the great God, the pattern of all
excellency in his creatures, can be guilty of that weakness and falseness to
hia own honour aa to break hia word, and that his justice so heinously pro
voked, presently after hia goodness had put his creature into a condition of
serving him, as well as arming against him, should tamely put up the injury ?
Yet this is the true cause of unbelief ; we consider not the power of his wrath
(Ps. xc. 11, ' Who knowa the power of his anger ? '), believe him not to be a
consuming fire,' and understand not the greatness of his anger in such a mea
sure aa it is to be feared.

376 chabnock's woeks. [John VI. 64.
(3.) Insensibleness of our own insufficiency to free ua from thia miaerable
condition, and the neceasity of some other remedy than what our own nature,
or aU other human aaaiatances, can furnish us with. Are we not naturally
insensible that we have contracted a weakneaa of our satisfying one tittle of
the law? that we ean increase our debts and pay none, under an impossibility
of remedying ourselves, or proposing a remedy to our offended Creator ?
Alas I we neither feel our wanta nor know how to find aupphea. We cannot
satisfy that justice we have provoked, nor content that holiness we have dis
pleased. We know not how to reduce ourselves to that God from whom we
have wandered, nor regain that heaven we have forfeited. It is as impossible
for us to find a place of rest, to which we might inrite our souls to return, as
it was for the dove sent out of the ark to find a place where to set her foot
while the watera were upon the earth. This kind of inconsiderateness was
the cause of the Jews' unbelief; they rested in the shell of their sacrifices,
thefr outward washings, and purifications, and lifeless ceremonies, which had
as little ability to bring them to God, as by nature they had a will to come to
bim : John v. 45, ' Moses, in whom you trust.' They truated not in the person
of Moaes, but in the doctrine delivered, and ordinances enjoined, by Moses.
What sinful or innocent creature hath so much power or favour as to interpose
for us ? Can any man be able to answer the just demands of the law, or stop
the cries of it, by bearing the punishment it requires ? Can we remove the
loads of our guilt, and stifle the cries of our innumerable sina against us ? If
we consider the nature and circumstances of ain, the nature of the majesty
offended, should we not be aenaible that no created atrength was able to pay
our debts, or bear our punishment and secure our standing ? But we are
insensible of this ; we naturally think a few outward devotions, a pack of
legal services, glavering prayers, and heartless reformations, oan make God a
compensation for all tbe affronts he hath sustained from us, retrieve our loss,
and uncloud the face of God ; and we apprehend not how sin hath mastered
our faculties, and rendered them impotent to any perfect obedience, and
unable to effect the everlasting redemption we absolutely need.
It is this, then, is another cause of unbelief. We believe not that we
sprang from Adam, or else we believe not that Adam was so putrefied a root
as the Scripture represents him to us. And how can the second Adam ap
pear beautiful to any who is not sensible of the deformity of the first, and
his own filthiness by him ? Who would look for an eye-salve, that believed
himself perfect in the organs of sight, or search for a treasure, who thinks he
hath wealth enough already by him ? The want of conviction by the law is
the cause of the want of conversion to the gospel. We know not the dis
ease, and therefore we regard not the remedy. Had we due apprehensions
of this, we ahould be restless till we had an account of some salvation from
it, to escape the wrath of God which is due to such a state. Let each man
of us, therefore, in our private retirements, fancy ourselvea in the stead of
Adam, each woman of ua in the state of Eve, and consider what we ahould
have thought after God'a conferring a being upon ua with so much honour,
our committing an offence with so much heinousness, and the terrors of
conscience, and fears of punishment felt in ourselves. If we had a full
sense, as they had, of the blessedness they had lost, the misery they had
contracted, with what affectionate devotion and greedineaa should we enclose
in the arms of our souls the offended Redeemer, vrith all his conditions ! as
no question they did the promise of the redeeming seed, whioh could only
pacify their lately offended Creator, and calm their stormy consciences.
3. Pride of corrupted reason. Hence ariseth the opposition to, and shght
of, the gospel, in great wits and the princes of the wisdom of this world.

John VI. 64.] who aee unbelievebs. 377
They cannot beUeve anything which hath not aome affinity with the falae
principles rooted in their minds, nor with the interest of their wills and pas
sions. They contemn the revelations of God, because they are not suited to
the opinions and notions of decrepit nature. The disproportion of the
traths of the gospel to the principles of the received philosophy, made the
Greeks count it foolishness in regard of the design of the aufferinga of
Christ, whioh had not entered into the heads of any of the masters of their
secta, 1 Cor. i. 23.
(1.) This was the cause of the Jews' opposition to Christ. As the Greeks
expected a doctrine savouring of the wisdom of their philosophy, so the
Jews expected a Messiah with a magnificent retinue ; and therefore the
preaching of a crucified Christ was a scandal to them, because of the igno
miny of the cross, contrary to the reason or fancy whereby they conducted
themselves in the expectation of him. And the greatest wits among them,
the pharisees, dashed upon this rock, John ix. 40, ' Are we blind also ?'
We know the common people are ignorant, but will you charge us with
ignorance of the mind and will of God, who are so far above thefr rank ?
But, ver. 40, Christ tells them, becauae they boasted of their wiadom, their
sin, i.e. their unbelief, remained. The pride of their knowledge was the
mother and nurae of their incredulity. The opinion of the excellency of the
law given by Moaea, above any revelation whatsoever, fixed them in thia ain.
They alwaya fenced against the edge of Christ's and the apostles' discourses
with their arrogant brags of Mosea : John ix. 28, ' We are Moses his dis
ciples.' ' We know that God spake unto Moses.' The great doctors of
that nation deride the Son of God, while the people adore him ; the insolent
diaciples of Moses condemn him aa a aeducer and a partner with Beelzebub,
while the simple-hearted receive him as the great prophet and son of David,
and submit thefr reasons to the declarationa of God ; the wise men of the
Jews crucify him, while the wise men of the east, the shepherds of Bethle
hem, with the wisest creatures in heaven, the angels, rejoice and worahip
him.* Men swelled up with an opinion of their science, are unfit for faith.
This is one of the strongholds exalting itself against the knowledge of God.
The babes, and not the wise and prudent men, conceited of their natural wit,
have, by the grace of God, the fiiUest store of the mysteries of the goapel,
while he lets others fall, by the subtleties of a proud knowledge, into the
snares of the devil. They will not believe, lest they ahould incur a cenaure
of folly, imprudence, and credulity, though they have a rational ground of
believing. (2.) No queation hut this is a secret let in many among us. Though
they cannot in reason deny the being of such a peraon as Jesus, cannot but
own his mfracles, life, death, and the wonders wrought by the apostles, be
cause the testimonies of them are undeniable. Such as believe not this,
must believe nothing, not that there is such a country as Spain, East Indies,
America, which they never saw ; nor believe that there were such peraons
as Alexander and Csesar, which were conquerors of nations, which they have
only by report ; since there are more evidences that there was such a per
son as Christ, such doctrines taught, such miracles wrought, confeased by
the enemiea of the Christian religion among the heathen, and to this day by
the Jews. But their reasons are nonplussed in the doctrine how Christ
should be the eternal Son of God, of one substance vrith the Father, that
the divine and human nature should be so miraculously united vrithout con
fusion of properties, how an innocent peraon should die for offendera, that
God would not pardon by a free act of grace without a satiafaction, that he
¦* Daill6, Vingt Serm. sur Mat. xxi. 8, 9, p. 501.

378 chabnock's woeks. [John VI. 64.
should exact it of his Son, and by so bitter a death aa tha,t of the cross.
These things have no footing in the common received principles of ra'
tionahsts ; and men are loath to captivate thefr reasons to the obedience
of faith.
But how unreasonable is this pride of reason, upon which the unbelief of
many is founded ! Because we can understand some things, are our reasons
capable of everything ? Are they as infinite and unlimited in their capacities
as God himself ? Do we not owe that respect to our Creator as to beheve
he might keep some thinga to be revealed at what time he pleased, and that
the discovery of his infinite wisdom might exceed our scanty comprehensions?
Would not such rational men skiUed in astronomy, laugh at those that should
measure the greatness of the sun, and moon, and stara by thefr eye ? If
sense be too weak to comprehend the things that belong to reason, may not
reason be as much too weak to comprehend the things that belong to reve
lation ? If there be some things above our aense, why may there not be as
many things, or more, above our reason ? A man's eye cannot behold that
which an eagle's can. As reason cannot comprehend the unbounded essence
of God, no more than a man, if he were near the aun, could grasp it in his
arma, so neither can it comprehend all the revelationa of God, no more than
a man can enclose aU the beams and emissions of the sun in hia eye, the in
finite wisdom of God being infinitely more above our reason than the sun
can be above our sense. We have natural proofs that there ia a God, but
have we capacities to comprehend the infinite perfectiona of hia nature ?
Can we underatand the deptha of hia wisdom, the lustre of his holiness, the
steadiness of his truth, his boundlesa immensity, and the abyss of his
counsels ? We know he is, and hath all this ; but we know not how nor
the manner of his acting. So we have rational proof that the Scripture is
the word of God, that the Christian rehgion is the revelation of God ; but
shall we, therefore, think to span and measure all the discoveries of God ia
Christ ? Aa the nature of God cannot, so neither can the actions or truths
of God be grasped in our reason, no more than the watera of the ocean can
be included in a nutshell. If men'a reaaon wiU not own revelation tiU they
understand the manner of all the trutha revealed, they must be unbehevers
for ever. If they were admitted into heaven in that ptate, with as great a
perfection of reason as Adam had, they could no more have a full view of
those things than the angels have of God, who (we know) cover their faces
before him ; Isa. vi. 2 ; ' His ways are above ours, hia thoughts above ours,'
and his wisdom infinitely above our reason, Isa. Iv. 8, 9. Besides, the
natural light of the understanding is impaired by the fall (not to speak of
the loss of that supernatural light man had), and men must not think to be
as apprehensive and comprehensive of the reasons of things as if they were
in innocence ; as if any man could see things as clearly with a beam in his
eye as he could if he had a clearness of sight and a fulness of spirits. , Let
us not think we oan comprehend the revelations of God, till we oan compre
hend the nature of creatures. If men could fully understand the latter, yet
those are but natural things, and will not infer that men can comprehend
heavenly mysteries by earthly reason. Unbelief springs not from the in-
credibleness of the object, but the weakness of the eye, and a foolish opinion
that it is clearer and sharper than it is. As in the text, the things were
true which Chriat spake concerning the neceasity of eating his flesh and
drinking hia blood, i. e. believing in him ; but their understandings were
weak, and could not conceive of them aa Christ meant them, and were more
fond of that they esteemed reason, than ready to wait submissively upon bim
for further information, though they counted him a prophet sent from God,

John VI. 64.J who aee unbelievebs. 379
by reason of hia miracles, which might have overruled thefr fooliah imagina
tion of his discourse.
(3.) This pride of reason is manifest in humbled persons at the begin
ning of a gracious work upon them. How ordinary is it for them to reason
themselves from taking hold of the promise of life in Christ, find out vritty
inventions against the mercy of God, aupport their unbelief with pretences
of unworthiness, wrest the promise to a contrary aense to what God in
tended it, as Manoah argued from the appearance of God that they should
die. Judges xiii. 22, and indulge any ungrounded imagination against the
promise of God ! A corrupt nature, and a weak understanding, meeting
with a doctrine so sublime, render us liable to mistake ; as the weakness of
our eye, when the height of an object transcends it, is the reaaon of miscon
ceptions. The transcendent excellency of the thing promised, being in itaelf
so glorious, and the soul finding itself so vile, the proffer ia as a dream to
it, as the greatness of the deliverance was to Sion, Pa. cxxvi. 1. When men
are soundly convinced of the nature and evU of sin, they become vile in
their own eyes, their ain galla them, the law terrifiea them, the notions of
God's justice are awakened in them, and lie close to them ; they are sen
sible of the degenerateness and rebellion of their nature ; they think God
cannot but hate them, and they expect from him only tbe severity of a
judge ; and when evangelical mercy is declared, it seema incredible to them,
because it exceeds thefr nature and dispositions ; the greatness of the mercy
proffered, makes them stagger ; they believe not God to be so merciful, be
cause they cannot be so (for in all conditions of men, it is natural to limit
God according to their own petty dimensions, and not elevate their thoughts
to hia, but judge of his thoughts by theirs) ; and although his mercy is above
the mercy of a creature, we are apt to think his nature aa uncapable of a
largeneaa aa our own. Since man is become vain in his imaginations, he is
apt to meaaure divine things according to those principles which are in his
own fancy. Hence God caUs to men to forsake their thoughts, their dis
paraging conceptions of him, since hia thoughta were different from theirs,
as much as the heavens from the earth, Isa. Iv. 7-9. He had higher
thoughts of good to them, than either they had for themselves, or could
think God had for them. Thus the greatness of the provision God pro
mised the Israelites in the wildemess, made Moses his faith dizzy, he could
not imagine how God should send food for such a vast number as six
hundred thousand men, besides women and children, for the space of a
month: Num. xi. 21, 22, ' Shall all the fish ofthe sea be gathered together,
to suffice them ? ' The greatness of the thing dazzled hia thoughts, which
were not proportioned to the mighty power of God, and measured the in-
fiinite majesty by a created line. Such humbled persons are like the
disciples, who believed not the resurrection of Christ for joy when he
appeared among them, Luke xxiv. 41 ; there was a twihght of faith, but
obscured by the darkness of reaaon, the strugglings of thia obstructed the
victorious breaking out of the other. They had known their Master dead,
his heart pierced, his body buried, they thought they saw him now present
among them ; thefr joy sprang up at the sight, but they could not tell how
to believe it was he, against so many natural sentiments which might start
up in them. Thus poor souls, scorched by the apprehensions of the curse
due to their sins, hearing the greatness of mercy, wish it were so great as it
is reported; come after, upon a nearer approach to the object, to hope it is so.
But as too great an object dissolves the spirita, the strength of the senae, as
the lustre of the sun dims the eye, the greatness of the sound deafens the
ear ; so the transcendent exceUency of the spiritual object overpowers the

380 chabnock's woeks. [John VI. 64.
understanding. It is thia, therefore, puts God to hia oath, that as he lives
he hath no pleasure in the death of the wicked, Ezek. xxxui. 11 ; it was
after an objection made by them, ver. 10, that if their transgressions
were upon them, and they pine away in them, how should they then live ?
It is by an oath too that he settles our high priest, that we might have a
strong consolation, which our scanty and suspicious naturea, when once
awakened, would acarce admit of AU this doth arise from a fondness of
our own reason, or rather rooted imaginations exalting themselvea against
the wisdom of God, and a natural corruption whereby man is desfrous to
darken the glory of God. To produce, therefore, and excite faith, to quell
and conquer unbelief let us look only to the word, as God sends them to
the word who measured the thoughts of God by thefr own : Isa. Iv. 11, ' So
shall my word be that goes forth of my mouth ;' consult not flesh and blood;
follow not the ignis fatuus of our own corrupted reason, a thing compacted
only of earthly vapours. He that seduced the reason of Adam, when it was
, innocent, will much more be able to mislead ours when depraved and filled
with a thousand follies. Let aU our whys and wherefores be subjected to
the word.
4. A self-fulness and conceit of ability, high opiniona of other thinga, and
resting upon them. This was a bane of the Jews, an outward observance,
a bodily compliance with the commands of God ; they thought enough to
bear them out before his exact tribunal. This waa the righteousness of the
pharisees, which Christ would have ours exceed. Mat. v. 20 ; this was the
righteousnesa the Jews pursued, whereby they miaaed of the other, Rom.
ix. 31, 32. Their seeking after righteousnesa by the worka of the law,
hindered their pursuit of it in a way of faith.
Two things are to be considered in this :
(1.) Reliance upon outward privileges. The Jews bolstered up their
hopes by thefr pompous worship, their circumcision, the law and ceremonies
prescribed immediately by God to Moses, privileges granted by God to no
nation under heaven besides, Ps. cxlvii. 19, 20 ; and upon the account of
those, never left till they had brought the Messiah to the cross and grave.
As they had before resisted the propheta who called them to the observation
of the moral law above the ceremonial, and commanded them to offer their
hearts more than their sacrifices to God, they dreamed of a justification by
them, and forgot the kernel. There were four namea possessed the minds
of the Jewa : * People ; they thought God was so bound to the aeed of
Abraham, and that hia seed was so holy by the holiness of their ancestors,
that it was impossible for God to reject them, and choose another people.
The law ; that they thought was so pleasing to God, that whosoever observed
it, waa by that acceptable to God, and righteoua before him ; hence it is
that they ao often boast of and oppose their cfrcumcision, and being the
seed of Abraham, against the prophets, Christ, and the apostles. The
temple ; they imagined that God had fixed his perpetual habitation in the
material temple, and was so delighted with the stateliness and richness of
that edifice, that he could not be persuaded upon any account to desert it,
and choose a place of worship anywhere else : Jer. vii. 4, ' Trust not in
lying words, saying, The temple of the Lord, The temple of the Lord, The
temple of the Lord, are these.' They trusted in the temple as the preser
vative of the city, and the security of the nation from judgments, and
therefore they constantly cried up the temple of the Lord, against the
threateninga by the prophets. Land of Canaan ; they imagined this land so
dehghtful to God that he could not endure to be worshipped in any other
* Aaoj, No^os, Sxis, Tins. — Illyric. de velam. Mosis, pp. 221, 222.

John VI. 64.] who aee unbelievebs. 881
territory ; and fancied that God was so tied to that order of priesthood
among them, that he would never suffer them to err ; and therefore boasted
that the law should not perish from the priest, nor the word of the Lord
from the prophet. This is the veil whioh is upon their hearts to this day,
and darkens their eyes from beholding the excellency of the goapel, and the
true interpretation of the deaign and meaning of their ceremoniea. They
thought it enough to sacrifice their oxen, kindle their incense, observe their
feasts, and hold up their hands to heaven, though fiUed with blood. Is not
man as apt now to pin his hopes upon modes of worship, the baptismal
laver, lukewarm devotions, as if those indeed did propitiate God, wipe off
their guilt, and secure their souls, thus making those things which are
means, to be ends, centres, foundations of blessedriess ? Do not the papists
at this day depend upon their sacrifice of the mass, the treasures, interces
sions, yea, the carcases, bones, rags of the deceased saints, pilgrimages to
shrines and sepulchres, as if those were expiations of sin and satisfactions
of justice, the rod of their strength, whioh is an impediment to their settling
their faith and confidence only in Christ !
(2.) Upon moral virtues. How many imagine that because of the good
hings found in them, God cannot but receive them, though they set not
thefr faces toward, nor fix their eyes on Christ ? They think they have no
need of the benefits of a Redeemer. Who vrill look after the righteousneas
of another, when he thinks he hath enough in hia own chest to carry him
out, he hath enough in his own bag to supply his wants ? Those that think
they have no need of Christ, will oast him at their heels. There are two
sorts, wherein this natural confidence in a self-fitness appears : such who
exalt their own righteouaness, and think themselves too good to have any
need of Christ ; and such who, after some conviction, think themselves not
good enough to come to Christ. One is so proud he will not be beholden to
him, because he hath a portion of hia own ; the other is so proud, that he
will not be beholden to him till he can bring something of a valuable conside
ration ; for that he expects to receive from him some box of ointment to pour
upon him ; both whicli proceed from a natural stout-heartednesa against
God. We would be Christ's partners, not his almsmen, as if we envied him
the sole glory of our justification. Paul laid the whole weight of his soul
upon the slender beam of his own righteousneas while he was a Jew in reh
gion ; but when he became a Christian, it was then, ' Not I, but the grace
of God in me.' His circumcision, his being of the stock of larael, of the
sect of the pharisees, and hia righteouaness in the law (all which he terms
fiesh), were his gain before, but accounted his loss afterwarda, Philip.
iii. 4—7. And the reason of this is the ignorance of the perfection of that
righteouaneas which God requires, that his holiness cannot endure a spot,
that thousands of services and moral excellencies cannot make a recompence
for one sin ; they understand not the exactness of God's justice, the extent
of the law in its precepts, nor the dreadfulness of it in its curses ; they un
derstand not the nature of ain to be ao great as to need an atonement by the
blood of God, or their righteousness to be so foul as to need a covering be
fore the holiness of God. If they have not a notorioua stench in their lives,
they regard not the noisomeneas of the fumes in their hearts. A trusting in
any fleshly excellency ia a cause of departing from God, Jer. xrii. 5, a rob
bing God of the credit we ought to give to him. While we would make onr
own peace, hew a prop out of our own rook, we shall never value, or place our
trust in, the Redeemer. ,
5. Affectation of worldly things. When Israel was grown fat and plump,
he ' lightly esteemed,' or disgraced, ' the rock of his salvation,' Deut.

382 chabnock's woeks. [John VI. 64.
xxxii. 15, inVlti", his rock Jesus. The Spirit of truth, which engenders
faith in the heart, ' the world cannot receive,' John xiv. 17; men of worldly
principles and worldly affections. The whole world followed antichrist. Rev.
xin. 3 ; not only the world in regard of multitude, but in regard of the cause;
men whose hearta were linked to the world, and thirsted after a worldly
grandeur. As the devil is the god of thia world, he bhnds the eyes of men
that believe not, ' lest the light of the glorious gospel of Christ should shine
into them,' 2 Cor. iv. 4. Not understanding that natural blindness which
all men derive from Adam, but some additional blindness contracted by his
means, as he was the god of this world ; not physically, by quenchmg the
hght of their minds, but morally, by presenting to them some false image of
the world in ita allurementa or afirightments, whereby they were hindered
from acknowledging the truth of the gospel, though clear in itself, and re
splendent as the light. He is caUed the god of this world, not by right of
possession, but aa making uae of the thinga of thia world to propagate and
maintain hia empire in the hearta of men ; by those, he bemists their under
standings not to know the Redeemer.
Two things of the world are the roots of this ain.
[1.] The riches of the world, the objects of covetouaness. The pharisees,
which were covetoua, derided him after he had preached a aearching sermon
against it, Luke xvi. 14. What made the young man turn hia back upon our
Saviour, after some fair show of a willingness to be his disciple, but the love
of his possessions ? Why did the Gadarenes pray him to depart out of their
coasts, but that they loved better to remain with the devil than to hve
without their swine ? What restrained the invited guests from accepting the
dainties prorided for them, but the immoderate affection to the husbanding
a farm, and proring of oxen ? Mat. xxii. 5. Why did the third ground so
easily part with the word ? Because they valued the profits and pleasures
of the world above the happiness it proposed. And why did the Jews pro
secute Christ to death, but because they feared the Romans should come and
take away their kingdom ? And what was the reason then, is no less a rea
son now ; when the heart is stuffed up with the dregs of earth, there is no
room for the impressions of heaven. Whoever is under the government of
this lust, can no more believe than a man lying under a heap of rubbish, or
at the bottom of the sea, can see the glory of the heavena. The intentness
of the eye upon one object hinders it from the view of another, and that may
be more exceUent. When men hunt after the wealth of thia world, they will
hardly gasp for the riches of another. They would make Christ a happiness,
by the by, when other things fail.
[2.] The honoura of the world, the objects of ambition. Thia was and is
stUl the root of the Jews' opposition to Christ. They dressed np a Messiah
in their fancies, with the accoutrements of a gallant general at the head of
his troops, by his conquering sword to make them lords of the world, and
all other nations their slaves ; and being full of those vain-glorious hopes
upon his coming, they were ao enraged againat the peraon of Christ, because
the meanness of his appearance did not gratify thefr carnal expectations of
grandeur. And though he wrought many great miraclea aa testimonies of his
commission, whereby their judgments might have been swayed to a behef of
him, yet he not having that good they conceited, they rejected that good he
proposed. The meanness of his person was the occasion of thefr contempt ;
he appeared as a despicable shrub, Isa. liii. 2, ' aa a root out of a dry
ground,' giving no marks of rising to a,full-grown tree, to shadow that nation
from the fury of their conquerora : ' he hath no form nor comeliness ;' there
is no comeliness like that of the Messiah we expect, nor that splendour,

John VI. 64.] who aee unbelievebs. 383
wherein he seems to be promised. There is neither the grandeur of the
world in his person, nor the eloquence of the world in his preaching. His
discourse and practice was to cast contempt and scorn upon it : he allured
them not with the sensual dehghts of the world. The corner-atone is there
fore rejected, because it squared not with that fabric of worldly greatness and
wealth they had erected. Had he promised them the pleasures of this life,
aaaured them they should set their feet upon the necks of their enemiea, the
whole nation had listed themselves in his troops. They cracked none of the
promises to taste their spiritual sweetness ; fed only upon the husk, and
never regarded sin, or any deliverance from it. This stakes them down in
their unbelief to this day ; thefr eyes cannot pierce to the spiritual things
veiled under temporal promises ; they are so fond of the shell that they
neglect the kernel ; and though they have seen thefr desfres and hopes frus
trated beyond the time fixed by any of the propheta, yet thia dazzling expec
tation flatters them out of any thoughta of a Redeemer, but what is framed
according to their own model. What was that which made the disciples
flag in their faith after the death of Christ ? The thoughta that Christ was
to redeem them, not from the tyranny of sin, but the usurpation of the
Romans. When they saw him dead, their hopes were crucified and buried
vrith him : Luke xxiv. 21, ' We trusted that it had been he that should have
redeemed Israel.' Now they had no trust left. What made some of the
rulers (when they could not in their judgmenta resist the force of the miracles)
silence thefr confession of him, but the ' loving the praise of men more than
the praise of God ' ? John xii. 42, 43 ; and our Saviour tells them,' John v. 44,
that one passionately affected to vain-glory doth not only not believe, but
cannot believe ; it is not possible, while he is so diaposed, that he should pay
to Christ any thing but a disdain. Ambition and faith cannot join hands
together ; for faith humbles, and ambition puffs up ; faith glorifies God, and
pride magnifies itself. None that make their reputation their god, can en
dure anything whioh they suppose will blemish it, and expose them to the
scorn of the brave spirita of their age.
We see then another cause of unbelief. ' Not many wiae, not many
mighty, not many noble,' 1 Cor. i. 26. Not many wise, becauae they will
not submit their reasons ; not many mighty, Sumrol, or rich, because they
will not be weaned from their worldhneaa ; not many noble, because they wiU
not sacrifice their honour. Pride and covetousness have taken possession of
the noblest parts of them ; pride of the understanding, and covetousness of the
will. If we are biassed by both, or either of those, we are as much deriders of
Christ in heart as the Pharisees were in their lies and gestures, Luke xri.
14, s^ifiuxr^^ii^ov ; and we can no more believe in him now, if ruled by those
principlea, than they did then who beheld the glory of his miraclea ; they
are both bara against any gospel faith, howsoever clear the trath shines in
the midst of men.
6. Sensuality and corrupt habits aettled in the soul. The fleshly interest
hath produced eril habits, and strengthened them in the souls of men ; they
become natural to them, and men are loath to be divorced from them.
' Men love darkness rather than light, because their deeds are evU, John
iii. 19 ; they are loath to see the vileness and uglmess of their sins, as some
are loath to behold the disflgurement of their faces. Let hght, the most
exceUent thing in the world, glare upon one that hath sore eyes, he wiU shut
his eyes against it, or turn away from it ; though he understands the worth
of it, yet it is a quality offensive to him in those circumstances. As the
gospel is too clear for a darkened mind, so it is too pure for depraved affec
tions ; as men are wedded to this or that particular vice, they are estranged

384 chabnock's woeks. [John VI. 64.
from the doctrine and purity of the gospel. Those passions are dearer to
them than truth and goodness, they blear the eyes of their mind that they
cannot behold them, weaken the intention of the mind that it cannot pursue
the apprehenaion of them, and arm the powers of the aoul in opposition to
them. Appetite imposeth upon the judgment. As there is a conjunction
or opposition between men's carnal affections and pointa to be believed,* so is
there an assent or dissent from them. If there be anything in any part of the
gospel which they oan wrest to favour their darling luat, they will esteem it
as a sweet and delightful voice. But when Christ offers to make them
happy,t only he wUl take away their vice ; this they cannot endure ; they
will take their leave of Christ, and love rather to live without him, than
without the awine which they idoliae, Mat. riu. 34. They would depend on
his sacrifice, but cheer themselves vrith their pleasures ; they would be saved
by hia cross, but ruled by their lusts ; they would part the officea of Christ,
which God hath joined together, not to be aeparated for the pleaaure of the
rebeUious creature ; they would lay hold on his promises, but not observe
his precepts ; and have a faith of reliance without a faith of resignation. To
follow the conduct of our affections hinders a conduct by the understanding,
and consequently believing, aince faith ia an inteUectual act. The harp and
the viol in the feasts hinder any regard to the ' operationa of God'a hands,'
Isa. V. 12, any serious reflectiona on the designs of hia proridence in the
world ; much more any sentiments of Chriat, the sum and centre of all his
providences. Corrupt affectiona cloud the understanding, as vapours from
the stomach dim the eye. They are like coloured glasses, changing the
species of the object which is seen through them ; ill judgments of good
thinga are engendered by them, because contrary to those vicious habits
which are rooted in them.
7. The devil. As the deril opposes the kingdom of Christ, so he oppos
eth that which is the great prop of that kingdom. As he would make Christ
doubt whether he were the Son of God, so he would make us doubt whether
he were sent of God. The devil's sin seems to be a rejecting of Christ as
head, and therefore he endeavours to conform men to his own image by un
belief, as God conforms hia own to the image of his Son by faith ; and this
contempt ia ao properly the devil's image, that he ia aaid to work more par
ticularly in opposition to Christ in the first times of the goapel : Eph. ii. 2,
' Now works in the children of disobedience.' Now that a crucified Sariour
is preached as head of the world, now that the Spfrit works in men to draw
the lineaments of a divine faith, and restore them by it to the happiness they
have lost, so Satan works to hinder faith, that he might perpetuate men
in that state to which he at first reduced them ; for he knows there is no
way of recovery but by faith ; there is no way to happiness but by a perfect
obedience oommensMate to every tittle of the law, or a satisfaction for the
breach of it ; the first we cannot perform, because we have offended ; the
second we cannot do by ourselves, because we are creatures. God proposed
not the way of working to Adam for hia repair after the faU, but that of be
lieving in the aeed of the woman. If the devU, then, can keep us from faith,
he keeps us under his own empire, because there is no other means but
faith of settling us under another head. Beaides, by keeping us from this,
he keeps us from paying any obedience to God. Without this grace we can
do nothing but sin, Heb. xi. 6; and vrith it we may pay him aome poor kind
of obedience in our own persona, and glorify him in owning the obedience of
another which he hath exposed to auffering in our stead. Faith ia all the
weapons a man can have to resist him, 1 Peter v. 9. He therefore wUl en-
* Dr Jackson. t Daille, sur Jean, iii. p. 405.

John VI. 64.] who aee unbelievebs. ¦ 885
deavour to hinder us from it, or disarm us ofit. If he cannot prevent it, he
lays siege to batter it; he wUl aecond the perverae reasoninga we make
againat the grace of God, and atake down the imagination to him. When
we are in the dregs of nature, he makes us believe our state ia good ; when
we are looking out of the pit, and begin to consider the proffers of Christ,
and the glory of another world, he stirs up an awakened conscience, presents
God as an armed enemy, and casts veils upon the merciful bowels of God.
As he sowed jealousies of God in the heart of Adam, and endeavoured to
plant suapicions of God in the heart of our Saviour, Mat. iv., ao he kindles
and blowa up ill apprehenaiona of God in the hearta of men. All have a
tendency to nuzzle them in good conceits of themselves, and either to allure
or bar them from faith in the Redeemer.
IV. Use.
1. How lamentable is this frequency of unbelief! Is it not an astonish
ment that the devil should find such strong inchnations in us to his kingdom
and our own misery, and Chriat ao little dispositiona to hia own glory and
our own happiness ; that we should rather choose to die slaves in the chains
of the devil, than to live gloriously in the bosom of a Saviour ; that the
Redeemer should be so willing to shed his blood, and men's nature so averse
from accepting it, upon conditions as much advantageous for then* own
happiness as the Redeemer's glory ? Are not all the good things we enjoy
from his mediation -—whatsoever natural light we have in our minda,
whatsoever good motions start up in our wills ? Is it not a thing to be be
wailed, to be ignorant of him who is the procurer of such benefita ? Like
the inhabitants of Egypt, who enjoy the atreams of Nilus, and the fruitful
ness of their land thereby, and know not from what spring the river doth
first arise. If faith were a rich manor, a wedge of gold, or a Babylonish
garment, exhortations to it would be needleas, the desires of men would out
strip one another in the gain of it. Doth not everything besides man obey
Christ's voice ; did not the winds, seas, diseases, hear his voice, and march
or stand still, at his pleasure ; and shall we only, who have reason to
obey him, uae our reaaona to rebel against him ; we who are capable of be
lieving in him, refuse a real and practical credit to his word ? Is it not sad,
that many that profess a kindness to him should hate him worse than thefr
sins, worse than their spiritual tyrant ? Christ himself wonders, that when
he ' told them the truth,' they did not believe, John viii. 46 ; when he made
not only a simple declaration, but demonstrated it by many signs, a truth of
the greatest moment which respected a blessed eternity ! Thus it was when
hia divinity, shining through hia miraculous actions, might have persuaded
men to receive hia doctrine with veneration ; but not only the obstinate sort
rejected him, but some of his followers in the text ; and they are offended
at his discourse, when they should rather have charged their own ignorance.
Hia miraclea might well have persuaded them there must be a divine mean
ing in what he proposed, of eating his flesh and drinking his blood, though
their understandings were at present too short to comprehend it. Is the
world at a better pass now ? Are the inchnations of men more natural to
wards Christ than in that age wherefri he hved ? Do they not rather seem
to vie with Christ's voluntariness in undertaking redemption, by their wUful
disdain of the conditions of it ? Why should not that gospel, which hath
been successful in many ages, in some of all conditions, be received in all
the terms of it ? Why should not his truth move us more, who have been
bred and nourished among Christians ? Why should they affect us no
VOL. IV. B b

886 chabnock's woeks. [John VI. 64. s
more than fables ? It is lamentable that Christ, after so many proofs,
miracles, and grace, cannot be believed but by a few ; that most should pro
stitute themselves to vile temptations, let a Saviour stand without, while they
are playing the wantons with the roysting mates in their hearta ; as if the
mercies he offered, were his crimes rather than his kindness, and he wronged
us by shedding hia blood for ua.
2. See the madness and folly of men under the gospel. What an indif
ferency there is in many men whether they should believe or no ! What
folly would it be for any to be indifferent whether he should accept of life
when he might have it -upon honourable terms ; to be indifferent whether
they should be saved or no ? Is it not a folly in us, and a high crime
against God, to be so hardly brought to honour him in that way wherein he
hath honoured himaelf, and would advantage us ? Yet this is the folly of
many men, yea, of most men. Ia not that man worse than brutish, that
beheves sin damnable, and yet ia fond of it ; that behevea God righteous,
and yet offends him ; that beheves God good, and yet abuseth him ; that
believes Christ a Saviour, and yet honours him neither in heart nor life ?
Pretences are vain, if practice be not accommodated to them. Such beheve
none of those things, they believe not God good or righteous, sin damnable,
or Christ a necessary Sariour ; they drive on to hell, and tum their backs
upon the only Redeemer, as if they envied themselves a happiness, and
Christ the honour of their salvation.
3. Let us examine ourselves whether we be true believers or no. ' Prove
whether you are in the faith,' 2 Cor. xiii. 5. Much faith is counterfeit; the
colour and fiame of fire may be so represented by the art of man, that at a
distance it may deceive our eye, but upon an approach to it, and touching
of it, we shall find nothing of the quality of fire. Faith must be examined
by the effects and fruita; what displeasure with sin, what affection to Christ,
what flames in the heart, what regulation of the life ? Let no man take his
outward honesty and morality to be faith ; there may be much of that where
there is nothing of this. No reaaon to account all infidela that have been
rebels to Christ, and fools to themselvea, to be false to men. We may well
suppose those in the text to be no debauched persons, they had then for
saken Christ before, when he dissected, in several discourses, the gross lusts
of the world. Many civil persons may be without a knowledge of the true
intent, ends, and conditions of the coming of Christ ; they may own
the person of Christ, and oppose the Spirit of Christ, as well as the Jews
owned the shadow of Christ, and opposed the substance ; acknowledged the
types, and refuaed the antitype. Try your faith by your love to Christ and
his truth. It is the common sentiment of men, that whatsoever thing a
man counts hia sovereign good, he doth necessarily love, and it is impossible
he should do otherwise.* Men differ in their choice ; one chooseth pleasure,
another honour, another wealth, aome an image of moral virtue ; but, let it
be what it will, the affectiona follow it. If any man be convinced that God
is the chiefest good, that Christ is the only Redeemer, in whose death is our
life, in whose resurrection is our justification, and that this Redeemer can
only bring us to fhe enjoyment of God, our chiefest good, then the setting
our chiefest love upon God the centre, upon Christ as the means, is un
avoidable. If we believe those things really, it ia as certain that we shall
love God supremely ; and our love to Christ as the way, would be equal to
the desirea of the enjoyment of God as the end. If there were many means
to bring us to it, there might be a debate which to pitch upon. But if we
believe there is but one, and that Christ is this true and living way, that •
* Amyraut, Serm. sur divers Textes, pp. 275, 276.

John VI. 64.] who abe unbelievebs. 887
necessity which determines our love to the aovereign good, will carry ua to
affect, and foUow, and puraue the only meana to bring us to the fruition of
it. If a man were desperately sick, and knew of but one medicine to cure
him, and believed the cure certain upon the application, the love that he
hath to his health would make him affect and value the only means to pro
cure it. Do our hearts come under the influence and authority of the
gospel ? are the counsels of God esteemed and treated by us as the greatest
wisdom ? are the conditiona of it entertained with readiness ? do we rejoice in
the light and flamea of it ? do we stifle those fleshly suggestions that would
choke the appearance of it in our hearts, or stop us from obeying the pre
cepta of it in our lives ? Is the person, death, resurrection, yoke of Christ
precious to us ? 1 Peter ii. 7 ; have we works of faith as well as the pro
fessions of it ? would we obedient to his commands, as well as interested in
the happiness of his promiaea ? John xiv. 21, ' He that hath my com
mandments and keeps them, he it is that loves me.' Can we deny our
selves for him, our right hand or right eye, whatsoever is dearest to us ? offer
up the most affected corruption we have, to be crucified by the power of his
cross ? These are the operations of faith. But is it so, that we have a con
fidence in the fleah ? that we are fond of a righteousness of our own, or in
dulgent to some secret luat, and would rather break with Chriat than break
with either ? are we unwilling to come up to the terms of Christ ? we would
accept some but refuse others ; is there anything more savoury to us than
Christ ? have we higher valuations of the things of the world than of him ? are
we content he should bear the dirine wrath for ua, but we would not imitate
his divine righteousness, or leave some endeared lust for him ? would we
have his salvation, but put off the service of him to the dregs of our lives,
when we cannot serve ourselves ? would we only serve our turn of him, but
pay no service to him ? do we like his sacrifice and dislike his service, love
the sweetness of hia cross, but not the weight of his yoke ? would we have
the benefit of redemption with a liberty of sinning, make the gospel the
ground of our confidence, but not the rule of our walk ? While our wills
are thus unconquered, we are unbelievers. No man believea, that hath not
a bended will to Christ, even to his very feet. Our neglects of him render
us guilty of this sin, as well as our oppositions to him. The guests invited
to the feast, did not absolutely refuse to come, but made their excuses :
Mat. xxii. 5, they ' made light ofit;' ainXfidavng, were careless ofit. What
society hath faith with profaneness or a resolution of disobedience ? ' What
agreement hath Christ with Belial? ' There are but two standards to come
under, Christ's or Satan's ; Christ is only the public head appointed by
God. Who do we fight for ? He that is not with him is against him ; he
that is not with him by a gracious will, holy desfres, affectionate valuations,
holy meditationa, resolutions to cleave to him, is against him, and no believer
in him. No man can be in league with Christ and the devil at the same time.
As Christ said to the Jewa, ' If you were Abraham's chUdren, you would do
the works of Abraham,' John viii. 39 ; ao if we are Chriat's foUowera, we
ahall do the worka of Christ ; works of obedience to him, and imitation of
him. 4. Use is of exhortation.
(1.) Let us endeavour to be stripped of our unbelief. The least thing we
can be obliged unto, upon any declaration of God, ia the belief of it; an assent
to the truth, and consent to the goodness. The law of nature teacheth us,
that every revelation of God is to be believed as true, and embraced as good.
We are as much bound to believe God, becauae of his truth, aa to love him
because of his goodness. What can be more reasonable than to turn to

388 chabnock's woeks. [John VI. 64.
God, trust in him, accept of a righteousness from him, that v^e may be freed
from gnUt, and glorify his name ? The owning the Christian religion (sup
posing there were reasons to doubt of the trath of it), and a faith in Christ
cannot render a man worse than he was before. All confess the necessity
of an holy life, the approbations of it they have in thefr consciences. But
what infidel can say his life is agreeable in every particular to the dictates
of his conscience, and to the law of nature in him ? what infidel can
imagine he may appear before God with confidence upon the account of his
own works, who knows he hath not paid a tribute to him according to his
law, according to his own sentiments of God ? Though he accounts God kind,
beeause he sees the tokens of his goodness in the world, yet he must account
him just, who sometimes sees the arrows of his vengeance darted in the
world. If he hopes to be happy by the mercy of God, is he ever tbe further
from it by believing in Christ as the way of communicating that mercy ?
The satisfaction he thinks to make to God by a righteousness of his own,
his own conacience, if he will silently hear it, will tell him is not perfect ;
is he ever the fiirther from perfection by accepting of the satisfaction Christ
offers him in the word, which hath so many marks of a divine stamp upon
it, as may easily stagger him ; is the righteousness he buUds upon impaired
by it, or not rather advanced to higher strains of love to God, desires to
glorify him, referring all to the Creator, whereby hia own righteousness
_ (though not thereby satisfactory to God, or to be rested on, yet) is rendered
more agreeable to his own conscience, and more contenting to himself?
I'aith in Christ impairs nothing that a man's conscience, upon juat ground,
oan call good and comely. But as for those who believe the doctrine of the
gospel, there is much more reason they should really have that faith they
pretend to. We confess God hath appointed no other to be the Redeemer,
why should we not believe it with our hearts and affections, as well as con
fess it with our lips ? Shall he who we believe is advanced by the Father
above the highest heavens, be set lowest in our hearts ? As there is but
one God we must own, so there is but one priest, one sacrifice we must rely
upon, one king whom we must obey. Pray therefore against your unbelief
As we need a Christ to free us from the curse, so we need the Spirit to open
our eyes, that we may see our misery, the attainableness of happiness, and
the way to it, and that we may acknowledge all those admirable qualities
and suitableness in the Son of God to all our necessities. We have as great
an impotency to faith without grace, aa we have an emptiness of it by
nature ; there is such an estrangedneaa from God, such an aversion to him,
that not a man in the world would ever turn to God without an overpower
ing grac.e. No man is an unbeliever but because he will be so ; and every
man is not an unbeliever, because the grace of God conquers some, changeth
their wills, and bends them to Christ. Every man's heart is by nature of
the same metal and temper ; no man is more phant than another, but by
the fire of grace melting him. Pray for it ; God never denied it to any
wrestler with him ; he knows how to give good things to them that ask him,
and are importunate for them. Pray for it as for your daily bread ; wait
upon the means where grace poura forth itaelf. Lie at the foot of the
throne of grace for this necessary grace, and study much the guilt of sin,
the deformity of your souls by it, the extent of the law, the justice of God,
and the satisfaction of Christ in the gospel.
(2.) Let believers be ashamed both of their old unbelief and the remainders
of it in their hearts. Let us reflect upon ourselves, and remember how
Christ called us in his word, and how long it was ere we listened to it ; bow
he made some impressions on our hearts, and the next temptation blotted

John VI. 64.] who aee unbelievebs. 889
them out ; he offered hia blood, and we would have our sins ; he promised
heaven, if we would believe, and we would have a hell; with what earnest
ness did he call, and with what earnestness did we refuse ; how gracious
vvas he in his invitations, and how perverse were we in our slightings ! A
great Redeemer soliciting, and a vile wretch would not be entreated ! How
often have we misunderstood his word, oppoaed his will, loathed his ways,
nor would admit of the levelling a mole-hill lust, much less a mountain !
Were we not like most in the eastern parts, that upon the appearance of the
star at the birth of Christ, did not stir to present him with their services !
Many might see the star, but only three wise men foUowed the motions of it.
How often hath a star risen upon us to conduct us to Christ, darting out its
motions to invite ua to seek our Saviour, and we have lain in our old country,
our old sins, and would neither bring ourselves, nor send our presents, to
Chriat ! And haVe we been loyal to Christ since he freed ua from the chains
of the devU, and snatched us from the lion's paw ; have we exercised that
faith he deafred, and paid him that affection he deaerved ? Shall not this be
matter of shame to us ? How httle faith is there in the world, and how
much unbelief ; how little faith is there in the hearta of behevera themselves,
and how much unbelief ! What complaints of this sin have we often heard
of in holy men, and that even the nearer they came to God !
(3.) Watch against the stirrings and appearances of it. All God's works,
from the beginning of the world, have been to draw out our hope and trust
in him. He created man a noble creature, and made the world for his service,
that he might depend upon the goodness, wisdom, and power of hia Creator ;
he suffered man to fall into misery, that he might give in redemption a
stronger ground of confidence in bim, and encouragements of recourse to
him ; he chased man out of paradise after his sin, that by experimenting
the miseries of the world, he might pitch his faith more upon the promised
seed ; he delivered Israel from Egypt vrith a mighty hand, an essay and
type of what he would do in the deliverance of thefr souls from a apiritual
Jyranny. At laat, he sends his Son to die upon the cross to satisfy for our
sina, that no occasion might remain to doubt of his goodness. It ia a sin
natural to us, therefore should be watched against. The only people in the
world acquainted with the promises of God, and receiving the most eminent
deliverances from God, yet how did this sin creep in upon them against all
arguments to the contrary, and possess their souls ! When they heard of
the strength of the Anakims, they consult about returning to Egypt, and would
rather submit to the mercy of a provoked enemy, than depend upon the pro
mise of a tender and faithful God. They lose the benefit of the former
experience of God'a kindneaa. They had seen the Egyptians sinking to death
in the watera, and they think the same power cannot match the Anakims
upon land ; he had spread a table for them in the wilderness, and they think
he cannot as well whet a sword to defend them against their enemies, as
though his power were spent upon the Egyptian carcases. How soon doth
a sottish fear starve their faith ? The promise of their deliverance from
Egypt weU performed, did not make them expect the donative of the land of
Canaan promised to them by the same word of truth from God, who had as
much power to perform the latter, as to accomplish the former. Watch
against thia sin therefore : a sin, as weU aa an enemy that is slighted, is
most dangerous, and often victorious. Grow in the knowledge of God and
Christ ; the more we know him, the more we shaU trust him. Our confidence
in a man increaseth, as our acquaintance with his honesty and ability
advanceth. The grounds of faith are the perfections of God, and the actions
and sufferings of Christ ; the more ignorant we are of them, the less we

390 chabnock's woeks. [John VI. 64,
shall confide in him. Cheek unbelieving suggestions at the first appearance ;
such weeds if suffered to be set will quickly grow. Oppose the truth of God
to the suggestions of Satan ; Satan is a false spirit, but he is not more false
than God is faithful. Take heed of predominant suspicions of God'a fidelity,
and Christ's sufficiency. Consider which is most worthy o£ credit, the true
God or a false heart ; a God we never found false, or a heart we scarce ever
found faithful. Hia charter of mercy is of the same force aa ever ; he hath
not cancelled a bond he stands engaged in. The gospel shall not be drained
of its milk tiU God be emptied of his fidelity ; nor the promises cease to be
yea and amen, till the seal of the blood of Christ wants an efficacy to confirm
them. When you are assaulted by unbelief, you know what power to
address. That omnipotent arm that first planted faith, can only protect it
against the powers of hell, that would pull it up by the roots. ' Lord,
increaae our faith' should be as much in our mouths, as ' Lord, pardon our
sins.' Let ua grieve for it. Our Saviour grieved for the incredulity he
perceived in the hearta of the Jewa, let us grieve for that we find in ourselves.
The naourning under what we feel is a good preservative against any further
encroachments. Let us never lay down our arms against it ; as God will
not cease till he hath put all the enemies of Christ under his feet, so let us
not cease till we have put our unbelief, his greatest enemy, under his and
our own.
4. Let those that have faith, strengthen their faith the more, by how much
the less there is in the world. Let us more straitly embrace the Redeemer,*
renounce all other hopea either in heaven or earth, expect happiness and
comfort from nothing but the sufferings of the crosa, advance continually
in that faith whereby we are united to the Saviour of the world, and let
temptation be ao far from snatching it from us, that they may be occasions
of strengthening it in us, as the blustering of the wind makes men wrap
their garments closer about them. The more Christ is slighted by others,
the more let him be prized by ua, that we may, by adhering to him, endeavour
as much as in ua lies, to repair the glory he loaea by others rejecting him.
Let that blood be the more cherished in our hearts, when we see others more
desperately treading it under their feet. While we believe he pleads for us
in heaven, let us not auffer anything to plead against him in our own bosoms.
Joseph of Arimathea owned Christ boldly, when he was crucified, who never
did, that we read of, own him before, or ever spake with him, though he
was a disciple in secret, Mark xv. 43. This use the disciples that remained
with Christ made of the apostasy of those in the text : those that were here
offended at his word, did, ver. 66, ' turn their backs upon his person.'
Did the other disciples stagger by the fall of their neighbours ? No, they
are knit the faster to him : ' Whither shall we go ? thou only hast the words
of etemal life ;' a,nd their revolt drew out that glorious confession from
Peter, in the name of the rest, ' We believe, and are sure, that thou art that
Christ, the son of the living God,' John vi 68, 69. Strengthen it the more
by how much unbelief grows in the world, since we are told by our Saviour,
that just before his appearance, for the recovery of the church from the
handa of men and devila, and bestowing that glory upon it which he hath
promised, there shall scarcely be ' found faith upon the earth,' Luke xviii. 8 ;
as at the time of Christ's resurrection, which was a token of the resurrection
of the church, the disciples did not believe they should ever see his face
again. Since therefore Chriat hath told ua how predominant unbelief ahould
be, let ua the more atrengthen our faith. And why should we not do it, as
weU as the disciples did upon this occasion in the text ? Is it not the same
* Amyraut, Serm. sur divers Textes, p. 456.

John VI. 64.] who aee unbelievebs. 391
gospel upon which onr faith is founded, on which theirs was ; doth not
the cross and resurrection of Christ furnish us with greater encouragements
than they had at the time of thia profession ; have we not the same Jesus
to look to, who is the author and finisher of our faith as well as of theirs ?
Why should any of us suffer ourselves to go along with the corruption of the
age, instead of resisting it ; why should we be borne down by the temp
tations of the world, instead of combating with them ? Let us be fuller of
thoughta of the cross of the Redeemer than of the delights of the world ;
and the stronger Our faith, the sweeter will be our comfort in the worst of
times.

A DISCOURSE OF THE END OF THE
LORD'S SUPPER

For as often as ye eat this bread, and drink this cup, ye do shew the Lord's
death till he come. — 1 Cob. XI, 26.
The Corinthians were a church planted by Paul, watered by a long
preaching among them ; but notwithstanding all hia pains, he receives news
of some corruptions crept in and overspreading that church. Some that
minded the welfare of the Corinthian church, had stirred it up to write to
Paul for the decision of several cases, which were controverted among them.
In this chapter the fifth case comes to be handled, about the ordering their
public assemblies.
(1.) Concerning the carriage of men and women in the church. (2.) The
celebration of the Lord's Supper. (3.) The use and exercise of spiritual
gifts, chap. xii. In ver. 17, the apostle makes a transition from the first to
the second, and taxeth them with their divisions, which were the ground of
their other miscarriages.
Observe, Divisions in a church are usually attended with sad consequences.
They despoil the church of its beauty and ornaments, and many times are
an occasion of sullying the beauty of divine institutions ; they here hindered
a communion one with another. All communion is founded upon union.
Divisions shook that, and brought in gross miscarriages about the Lord's
Supper ; a disorderly meeting, one taking before another, and making the
Lord's Supper a scrambling feast ; discovering more passion one against
another than a mindfulness of the sufferings of Christ ; and their unworthy
receivings provoked God to send among them deadly diseases, ver. 80. For
the reformation of those abuses, the apostle reduceth them to the considera
tion of the first institution.
Observe, In all reformations, we are not so much to mind what this or
that custom of the church is, when there is a clear word to walk by. Christ
overthrows polygamy by reducing the number of persons married to the first
institution : Mat. xix. 4, 9, ' God created male and female.' This miscar
riage waa chiefly in their aydvai, or banquets which they had before the
supper, which were set up in imitation of Christ, who kept his last supper
with his disciples, at the end whereof be instituted this sacrament. Now,
in the eating of this, the rich brought their dainties, and ate to gluttony and

1 Cob. XI. 26.] the end op the lobd's suppee. 898
excess, before the poor were met together, and left the scraps for the meaner
sort, and thereby did shame .them, ver. 22 ; i. e. did upbraid them with
thefr poverty. Whence obaerve,
1. The community of goods, or a voluntary levelling, was not a standing
inatitution in Paul's time ; among the Corinthians you find it not in use.
There were rich, and there were poor ; distinctions among men ; men were
proprietors of their own goods.
2. How soon will corruptions creep into the best church I This mighty
corruption, an epicurean carriage, crept into this knowing and well- gifted
church betimes, while the great apostle waa living, who had the conduct of
them, and of all the churches of the GentUes. The devil wUl sow hia tares
where God sowa his wheat. As he opposed Christ at the very entrance into
his office, to make his mediation insignificant, so he will endeavour to cor
rupt a church at the first entrance of the gospel, to make it altogether
fruitleaa. 3. Human ceremonies are not to be urged, especially when they by abuse
degenerate into superstition, carnahty, and profaneness.* Tbe apostle,
when he explains what he had ' received from the Lord,' and ' dehvered to'
the Corinthians, makes no mention of a divine institution of those aydvai,
love-feasts, which they used in those days, in imitation of the supper whioh
preceded the first institution of this ordinance. He speaks nothing in the
defence of this custom, nor urgeth it upon them, but only presseth the in
stitution. Divine institutions, because of God's sanction, are not to be laid
aside, though abuses creep in. What is man'a must be discarded, what is
God's must be preserved. Tares ought to be separated from the wheat.
This human ceremony might claim precedency of all others that wanted the
stamp of divine authority, and that by reaaon of its seniority, more ancient
than all those of a later date in the church ; yet it being but human in its
original, is laid aside, and not practised (that I know of) in any church in
the world. Paul proves here the divine institution, not any superaddition
by the prudence of man.
The Apostle,
1. Shewa the end ofthe institution of this ordinance. In the repetition
of the words of institution, ver. 28-25, ' This do in remembrance of me.'
2. He shews the duty of communicants, in the text, ' Ye ahew the Lord's
death till he come.' This is rendered as a reason why Christ commanded
them to eat and drink in remembrance of him, because in that action he
would have them shew his death, and celebrate his praise for his sufferings
in our stead.
'Oadxig, as often. The Lord's supper ought to be often administered.
The frequency is implied, though how often is not declared. Christ's death
is to be every day fixed in our thoughta ; and to help our weakness, there
should be a frequent representation of it to our sense, i.e. in such a way as
Christ hath instituted, not as man may prescribe.
Ye. It is the duty of every particular person who communicates in this
ordinance to shew Christ'a death.
As often as ye eat this bread, and drink this cup. ' Eat,' not ' see.' This
ordinance ia not celebrated for the eye only,, or for the ear ; there must be
union, there must be communicating.
Bread, cup. There is no transmutation, no transubstantiation ; bread
still, cup still ; the subject for the adjunct, cup for the wine contained in it.
It is the same bread and cup after the consecration in regard of their nature,
not of thefr use, dignity, and efficacy. Bread, cup ; the one eaten, the other
* Slichting. in loc.

894 chabnock's wobks. [1 Cob. XI. 26.
drank. Both must be communicated ; bread and cup are not to be aepa
rated ; Christiana have a right to both. Papiata have deprived the people
of the cup, by the juggle of a concomitancy ; because by partaking of the
bread, which is the body of Christ, they partake of the blood too which is
in it. Christ plainly obviates this error at the time of the institution, when
he adds, in giring the cup, emphatically, Mat. xxvi. 27, ' drink ye all of it ;'
and Mark, chap. xiv. 23, expressly adds, ' They all drank of it,' which is in
neither place expressed of the bread. As if our Saviour, foreseeing this
error introduced into the world, as he did, would, by a particular note all,
leave the authors of it without excuse. The most lively representation of
his death, the comfort and end of it would be lost, which is signified by his
blood. KarayyiXXiTi, shew. Some take it in the indicative mood, aa our tran-
alators, ye shew. It notes to us that by this ceremony the death of Christ
ia represented. Some take it in the imperative mood, and then the words
are to be read thus, ' Shew you the death of Christ ;' intimating that it is
an indispensable duty, that as often as we eat this bread, and drink of this
cup, we should have our thoughts and hearts full of the sufferings of Christ,
meditations of him, and thanksgivings for him. It is not only a bare decla
ration of Christ's death, but of the benefits of it.
Till he come. It is a perpetual ordinance in the church. ' Till he come ;'
till he shew himself in his perfect majesty, that we may enjoy perfect glory
with him. Till he come to judgment, when he ' shall come in that manner
as he waa taken up into heaven,' Acts i. 11. When remembrance of his
death shall be swallowed up in the vision of hia person, and fruition of the
higheat fruita of hia sufferings, when remembrance shall be removed by sense.
In the meantime, it is a atanding monument and memorial of the sufferings
of our Saviour.
And by the way, we may observe, that the church shall continue to the
end of the world, because these mysteries are to be kept up till Christ put
a period to this form of the creation. And tbe church only ia the aeat and
subject of these institutions ; they were appointed for the church, not for
the world, i.e. the unbelieving worid.
In the verse observe :
1. The action, eating, drinking.
2. Tbe object, bread, this bread, this cup.
3. The end of the action, expresaed by a command, shewing the Lord's
death. 4. The /(-«jw«)ic!/ of it implied.
5. The durableness of it, till he come.
Doctrine. 1. The Lord's Supper is chiefly instituted for the remembering and shew
ing forth the death of Christ.
2. The Lord's Supper ought frequently to be celebrated.
3. The Lprd'a Supper is a lasting and continuing institution, not to be
put down at the pleasure of any men.
For the first ; '
Doctrine. The Lord's Supper is chiefly instituted for the remembering
and shewing forth the death of Christ.
It is not a bare historical remembrance of the death of Christ ; for then
1. Every profane man who assents to the history of Christ's death, and
believes the acting of this tragedy on the cross, and hath a notional belief of
the ends of it, might be partaker of this ordinance. But the apostle puts a

1 Cob. XI. 26.] the end of the lobd's suppeb. 395
bar to that : ver. 28, ' Let a man examine himself, and so let him eat of that
bread; ' so, not otherwise. There would be no need of self-examination if it
were only an historical remembrance.
2. A man could not then receive more unworthily, or incur a greater
damnation in this than in other acts. But here the apostle fixeth a parti
cular guilt of the body and blood of Chriat when received unworthily,
vera. 27, 29.
As Christ's death was not a bare dying, but a death with high and glori
ous ends, so our remembrance of it is not to be a bare historical, but a
practical remembrance and declaration. As Christ's remembrance of the
promises of his Father was not only an assent to the truth of them, but a
recumbency on him for the performance, so our remembrance of the death
of Christ ought to be. It is not a speculative remembrance only, as when a
man sees a picture of a prince, but auch a remembrance aa a man hath
when he sees the picture of a dear friend absent from him at that time ; he
remembers not only his person, but the mutual love between them, the
actions his friend hath done for him, which stirs up a sense of gratitude at
that time. In the handling this doctrine, I shall shew,
I. Thia is the end of the institution.
II. What it is in the death of Chriat that ia here remembered and shewn
forth. III. How we should shew forth this death.
I. The remembrance and declaration of the death of Chriat is chiefly
intended hereby. The Scripture declares thia in the time of institution, the
night wherein he waa betrayed. The words of institution, ' This ia my body,
whioh ia broken for you,' ver. 24 ; ' Thia cup ia the new testament in my
blood, which is shed for you,' Luke xxii. 20 ;* and the command, ' Do thia
in remembrance of me,' evidenceth that all the preceding actions of break
ing, taking, eating, are commemorative signs of Christ, to excite and confirm
our faith in the apprehension of him and his merits.
For the explication consider,
1. God was always careful of appointing and preserving memorials of his
favour. The pot of manna and Aaron's budding rod were to be preserved in
the ark as standing memorials of God's kindness; stones were appointed to
be set up for a memorial of the division of the waters of Jordan to give the
Israehtes passage to the conquest of Canaan, Josh. iv. 5 ; the pasaover was
instituted as a memorial of the Israelites' affliction,-!- and God'a gracioua pro
tection of them from the plaguea of Egypt, their aecurity from the destroying
angel, who was commissioned to take away the lives of the Egyptians' first
born, and indeed of all the wonders performed by God in their behalf in that
memorable deliverance, as appears by the command for the celebration of it,
Exod. xiii. 8, 9. At this passover it is supposed by some that they sang the
song of Moaea, Exod. xv., for the deliverance at the Red Sea, and after David's
time the Ixxviii. Psalm, compoaed by Aaaph, treating of the whole deliverance
from Egypt and conduct to Canaan, and their own unworthy carriage towarda
God. And is there not much more reason for a standing memorial of that
mercy of which aU those were but the types ? It hath been the custom of
all nations to have an anniversary commemoration of thoae heroes who have
been the instruments of some public happiness to them, and of all societies
to commemorate their benefactors. And ia there any reason to deny that to
the great benefactor of mankind, the Redeemer of the world, Emmanuel,
God with us ? Shall poor temporary deliverances among the heathen be re
membered (deliverance of the capitol by geese, as it was among the Romans),
* lUyric. in 1 Cor. xi. 22. t Kellet's Threefold Supper, p, 136.

396 chabnock's woeks. [1 Cob. XI. 26.
and shaU not the great work of redemption, the contrivance of God, the
business of heaven, the admiration of angels, the conquest of devils, and the
delight of God, have special commemorations ?
2. These memorials are necessary,
(1.) Because of the nature of our affections, which rather follow the orders
of our sense than the commands of our soula, and are more excited by sensible
than invisible objects. Therefore the Jews had Christ in the swaddling-bands
of types as well aa in the womb of a promiae, aomething manifested to the
eye as well as sounded in the ear. Most things we cannot understand but
under sensible representations ; we understand not God's power, goodness,
justice, but by the objects we aee those attributes conversant about. Hence
are those frequent metaphorical resemblances of spiritual things in the Scrip
ture ; and our Saviour sets himaelf forth to ua under the notions of bread,
wine, bridegroom. Where there ia also such a distance between our heads
and our hearta that we can roll the most saving trutha in the one without
tranamitting any part of them to the other, there ia need of something to
quicken our affections : seasonable memorials renew seasonable thoughts and
affections. (2.) In regard of the inconstancy of our affections. We admire anything
at the first notice and arrival, we adore it at the first sight, which by continu
ance grows more familiar. What our affections rouse themselvea up to
receive at the first approach, ,they afterwards, being glutted with the pre
sence of begin to flag, like the strings of an instrument, that sound well
at the first tuning, but quickly alack and need a watchful ear and careful
hand to wind them up. We want, therefore, those memorials to keep up our
hearts in a warm and glowing temper. In things that concern God's glory
and our own salvation, we are all like table-books, quickly worn out ; every
intruding thought, like a sponge, dasheth out what was written. When we see
things acted before our eyes, then we remember what was acted upon the cross.
When Christ was risen from the dead, then the disciples ' remembered the word
Christ had spoken to them,' John ii. 22. We are naturaUy dull, and want
actual excitements to awaken our sleepinesa, and balance our unateadiness.
(3.) In regard to the natural ingratitude and enmity we have to a crucified
Christ, and the weakneas of faith. What the world did, that doth every man's
heart naturally, account the cross foolishness. It is a matter of difficulty to
raze out our jealousies of God, and bring God and the heart together. The
trembling believer is apt to look upon God as an enemy rather than a Father,
and thinks Christ too glorious to entertain such a wretch. We need these
memoriala of the bounty of God and kindness of a Redeemer, to stifle our
suapicions of him. Who can cherish unworthy reflections on God, when he
hath repreaented to his eyea the strokes God inflicted on the Redeemer ?
Who can resolve not to love Christ, who sees him bleeding, breaking, dying
for them ? Gal. iii. 1. - The disciples were afraid to perish. Mat viii. 25, 26,
when they had Christ in the same vessel with them ; they betrayed a weak
ness of faith when they had Christ present with them, and had frequently be
held his miracles. How is our faith weak when Christ is absent from us ?
He hath therefore instituted a symbol of his spiritual presence, about which
our minds might exercise themaelvea, aa well as the eyea of men did behold
his body ; that we might urge our hearts to beheve hia kindness, and settle
it upon our affectiona, and chide ourselves for our unbelief at the sight of
bleeding love.
II. What it ia in the death of Christ that is here set forth.
1. The painfulness of his death. It is the picture of him as he hung upon
the cross, a man of sorrows, broken and bruised by his Father in the day of

1 CoE. XI. 26.] the end op the lobd's suppeb. 897
his great wrath and great love, when his body was tom, hia soul in a dreadful
agony, his side pierced, his blood shed. The substance of theae, by the break
ing of bread and pouring out of wine, is represented ; the burden of God'a
wrath lying upon him, and his groanings under it, are here shadowed. A
picture represents the lineaments, looks, and sorrows expressed in the face,
whioh help the fancy, and guide it into more lively apprehensions. The mind
of man can conceive more than the eye of man can see. This doth not of it
self express the sorrows, cries, groans, agonies, strugglings of Christ ; but
nothing can be more auxiliary to our soula in the underatanding, remembering,
fancying of them, whereby the affectiona may be blown up, and impressions
of a crucified Christ made upon our souls. Christ left behind him no other
picture of himself but thia. Here a wounded, broken, bleeding Chriat ia pre
sented. Here we may see the sufferings of his body, his pains upon the
crosa ; and here fancy may work about the unconceivable troublea of his
soul, his heaviness to death, how hia soul was made an offering for sin, Isa.
lih. 10, the wrath of God, the cup of bitterness, which if men or angels had
but tasted, they would have staggered and fell headlong into hell. Here
fancy may represent the piercing his temples by the thorns, and the dints
made in his body, whioh the psalmist compares to furrows, Ps. cxxix. 3.
This was the intent of
(1.) The ancient passover. Thef lamb was to be killed, the flesh roasted
with fire, not boiled, the head, legs, purtenance, Exod. xii. 6-9, which was
to set forth the unexpressible sufferinga of Chriat in every part. Isaac on
the wood, the sacrificea on the altar, the serpent on the pole, the striking the
rock, were types prefiguring this, but differ from thia sacrament. They were
to prefigure what was promised, this to commemorate what hath been per
formed. They were not properly memorials of thia. They might in some
sense be memoriala to remember God of the promise, but this is a memorial
to mind us of the performance.
(2.) Of the elements of this sacrament. Bread signifies this suffering, aa
passing through various kinds of alterations (a sort of sufferings) to be made
fit for food : reaped when ripe, thrashed when housed, ground to powder
and baked to be made fit for bread. The actions testify the painfulness :
bread broken discovera a broken Christ ; wine poured out discovers a bleeding
Christ. The bread testifies the sufferings of his body ; the blood, the agonies
of his aoul, because the spirits whereby the soul acta are in the blood.*
2. The intention of this death for ua. It is in thia ordinance repreaented
as a sacrifice-death. He ia ' our passover sacrificed for us,' 1 Cor. v. 7, 8.
In hia institution it waa, ' my broken body for you, my shed blood for you,'
as an expiatory sacrifice for the satisfaction of justice, appeasing of wrath,
and thereupon the remiasion of sin, and collation of everlasting righteousness.
On the croas it waa given for us ; in the sacrament it is given to us, to
mind ua what he did for us. It ia to shew forth, not only his death, but the
intention of his death for us ; not for himself, or any ain of his own, for he
was ' harmless, undefiled,' Heb. vii. 26, and a ' lamb without spot,' 1 Peter
i. 19. There was no more need of hia dying for himaelf than there is a
necessity of our being glorioua to make God happy. Hia sole intention was
to be an offering to God for the removing of our guilt, the answering the
charge of the law, the silencing the terrors of justice, whioh we were ob
noxious to, had not Chriat interpoaed himaelf as a sacrifice for ua that both
justice and mercy might be our friends.
3. The sufficiency of this death for us. It would never else be remem
bered. We remember no more than what was done ; we remember a whole
* Goodwin's Peacemaker, pp. 56, 57.

398 chabnock's wobks. [1 Cos. XI. 26.
Christ broken. God by covenant with Chriat could ohaUenge no more ;
and juatice, after the striking of that match, could demand no more. Christ
paid all that he had to pay ; his whole body was broken, his whole soul
bruised, his blood shed ; he gave up all the treasures he had : and this is
represented in tbe supper. The cup Christ drank was fuU, and by his death
he brought a greater glory to God than ever he had before ; whence ariseth
a redundancy of merit, an overflowing merit for ten thousand worlds, were
they in being and in a sinful state.
4. The acceptableness of thia death to God. All that Christ did, he did
by order aa his Father commanded him. Had not his death been acceptable
to his Father, he would not have ordered ua to remember it. The great
actions God hath done for his people, and by which he hath got most glory,
and which have been most delightful to him, he would have commemorated :
the passover once a year ; but thia, aa being the memorial of a thing more
pleasing to him, often. It waa 'a sacrifice to God for a sweet-smeUing
savour,' Eph. v. 2. He would have it remembered in heaven in the person
of Christ, and remembered on earth in the symbols of his own appointment.
His resurrection God would have remembered by the change of the Sabbath,
but his death by a new and peculiar institution. Spices smell sweetest when
pounded : hia death ia the greateat pleasure to God ; he would have heaven
and earth filled with the savour of it. The acceptation was laid in the cross.
In the supper we remember his death to plead the acceptableness of it to God.
5. The preaent efficacy of this death. It is now of efficacy, and will be to
the second coming of Christ. Why else should it be remembered ; to what
purpoae ahould we commemorate it, if it did not retain an everlasting
efficacy ; if his blood, like wine, had lost its spirits, and his body, like bread,
were putrefied and consumed since the departure of Christ out of the world ?
Some affirm that that blood of Christ which was shed, waa not drank up by the
ground, or dried up by the sun, or steamed into the vapoura; but was gathered
up again by the power of God, and put into his veins.* ' His body saw no
corruption,' Acta ii. 31 ; therefore no part of his body, not his blood, which
was sacred, the blood of God, therefore not to be lost. Aa the aoul and body
of Christ, though separated, were united still to the person of the Son of God,
hia body being the body of the Son of God, his soul being the soul of the Son
of God ; so also his blood, though separated from the body when shed, and
had not ita natural motion to perform ita natural end for the aupply of the body,
as the soul of Christ did not perform its natural end for the informing of the
body when separated from it, yet not a drop of his blood was dirided from
hia person. But howsoever this be, not a drop of that blood is lost as to the
virtue and efficacy of it ; and therefore when either pardon of sin is sealed,
or purifying grace conferred in thia ordinance, it ia not by the sole remem
brance of his death, but by the power of it efficaciously operating for and in
the soul. Therefore this blood is oppoaed to corruptible things, 1 Pet. i. 18,
intimating that the blood of Christ, in regard of its power and efficacy, doth
not corrapt. As the aun aheds his light every day about the world, yet
remains a fresh spring of new light in the afr every morning, so this blood
shed upon the cross loseth not its rirtue, but is as operative as if we had
stood under the cross, and had it dropping upon our souls at the instant of
his sufferinga. He did once ' offer himself a propitiation for sin,' but he
remaina a propitiation for ever. The sacrifice was but once performed, Heb.
ix. 28 and x. 14 ; that shows the reality of it ; but it is often commemorated,
to shew the perpetual virtue of it. This efficacy is therefore shewn forth in
this ordinance. * Dr Jackson.

1 CoE. XI. 26.] the end of the lobd's suppeb. 399
III. How we should shew forth and remember this death.
1. Reverentially. '
(1.) With a reverence of the holineas of God. God'a hatred of sin is as
high as his love to Christ ; he hatea sin as much as he loves his Son. He
would never elae have dealt so hardly with hia Son for ain, whom he loved so
dearly. He lamented over the loss of Jerusalem, Jer. xii. 7-9 ; but to
manifest his detestation of sin, he spared not his Son ; had no relentings
when he suffered for us.
(2.) With a reverence of the justice of God. It was more that the Son of
God should thus pour out hia soul, than if the whole world had been hurled
into heU. God struck him till justice had a full revenge, and struck him
with that wrath which would have tumbled us into unquenchable flames.
Not the pleaa of an infinite mercy, a mercy God delighta in, could stop the
pleas of an inexorable justice. What earthly father but would count the
sufferings of hia son aa the rending of his own bowels, a destroying a model
of himself? but to see an infinite gracious God rending the soul of a beloved
Son, letting his enemies loose against him, atanding by without any manifest
relentings, and adding to that torture his own frowna, even that God who
cannot aee his people affiicted without yearning bowels and a troubled heart,
yet to seem unconcerned at the death of hia only Son ; oan we remember
thia without reverential adorations of the dreadful justice of God ?
2. Holily. We must undertake such religious serrices with suitable dis
positions of heart. Let none with irreverent hands touch those tremenda
mysteria, which may make the hearts of sinners be broken with terror.
(1.) With mourning hearts for sin. A broken Christ must not be remem
bered without a broken heart ; a bleeding Christ and a hardened spirit, a
sighing Christ and a senseless heart, are unsuitable. Our passover must
be eaten with bitter herbs, with sorrow for past transgressions ; we should
endeavour to be as much affected as if we had heard every piercing groan in
the garden, and numbered every drop of that bloody sweat which trickled
down upon him, and been preaent when the aoldiera did so cruelly handle
him and pierce him. The springs of our sorrow ahould be opened and gush
out ; for it was our sin he bore, and our debt he paid. The fixing our
thoughts intently on the death of Christ would melt the ice in our souls.
We should look upon him till our hearts be set a-mourning, ' as for a first
born,' Zech. xii. 10.
(2.) With deep considerations of the cursed nature and demerit of sin.
It must needs be bitter, kiUing, condemning, cursed sin, which brought Christ
to such a bitter death. What a dreadful breach hath it made between God and
us, that nothing but the blood of God oan cement and solder ? How are we
able to answer for one sin, when Christ endured so much for the expiation of
the least, as well as the greatest ? For death waa due to the leaat ; had our
sins had less guilt, yet since the least had been an offence against an infinite
God, Christ could not have had a lesa suffering than essentially infinite to
make an atonement for it. How can we poor potsherds stand under the
stroke of an almighty arm, when the human nature of Christ, though united
to the deity, furnished with an etemal Spirit, attended with a gracious
aasistance, and assurance of a glorious success, startled at it, and hung down
his head ? Our iniquities met upon him, Isa. liU. 6, hke a mighty torrent
that bears down all before it ; and who but infiniteness could have stood
against such a force ? See how ain preased him down, who upheld the whole
fabric of the creation by the word of his power, Heb. i. 3, and could, without
any pains, have bore the weight of mUlions of worlds. Had not sin deserved
so great a punishment, Christ should not have suffered it ; a God of infinite

400 chabnock's wobks. [1 Cob. XI. 26.
compassion (and were there magis and mirius in that which is infinite, more
stirred up towards Christ than towards all creatures) would not have laid so
great a load of sufferinga upon him had not sin deserved it.
(3.) With strong resolutions against sin. It is a sad thing to be Chris
tians at a supper, heathens in our shops, and devUs in our closets. To
come with a heart resolved to go on in impenitenoy, is to be worse than
Judas, who was struck with remorse at the beginning of Christ's sufferings,
when he saw him condemned. Shall he have relentings for his treachery;
when he saw him ready to suffer, and we cherish intentions to sin at the
representations of his sufferings already fully executed ? We should then be
not the receivers, but the murderers of Christ, tread him under foot, and
make the table of the Lord a shambles, and bring the guilt of that blood
upon our heads, which, if sprinkled upon our consciences, would purify them
from the guilt of all other ains. The Jews took the passover standing, to
shew their intentions to leave Egypt ; so must we resolve to leave all cor
respondence with those enemies which have murdered the Redeemer. The
passover must be eaten with unleavened bread ; no leaven of sin must he
mixed with our services, no leaven of hypocrisy with our lives, 1 Cor. v. 7, 8.
We must eat his flesh and drink his blood, that we may live to the praise of
his grace ; shew it forth in the supper, that we may ahew it forth in our
lives. The thoughta of Christ's death should be an antidote against the
poison of sin.
3. Believingly. We should in this act look upon it by faith, as the meri
torious cause of our good. If we cannot believe when we see the price laid
down for us and the ransom paid, when ahall we believe ?
(1.) We ahould profess our adherence to him. The shewing forth hi^
death is solemnly to cleave to him alone for the pardon of our sins, the
justification of our persons, ahd sanctification of our naturea. There was to
be in the passover a solemn publishing the nature of that deliverance, the
great kindness of God in it, and the ends for which he delivered them. The
Israelites that descended from Jacob were ' partakers of the altar ' by eating
ofthe sacrifice, 1 Cor. 10-18 ; i.e. they professed themselvea to be of the
Jewish religion and worship by eating with them ; as they that ate of things
sacrificed to idols in the idols' temple did by that action profeaa themselves
the worshippers of that idol, and had fellowship with devils in it.
(2.) Look up to Christ in his death as a conqueror. It is ' the Lord's
death ;' he was a lord in his death, he was a king upon the croaa aa weU
as a priest, as he is a priest in heaven as well as a king ; he hath both
his priestly garment and royal crown ; the cross was his victorious chariot,
as well as the instrument of his execution. He then nailed our sins to the
cross ; he then triumphed over the powers of darkness, sin, Satan, and heU,
Col. ii. 14, 15. He was a conqueror in his death, spoiling the deril of his
prey, and snatching the captives out of his hands ; his death was his vic
tory, his ascension his triumph. Regard it, shew it forth, not simply as a
death, but a conquering death.
(3.) Plead this death with God. Thia ia believingly to shew it forth.
This ordinance upon the earth is a counterpart of what Christ ia now plead
ing and urging to hia Father. Our pleaa on earth should keep company
with Christ's pleas in heaven. It is the best argument to prevail with God,
who, though he may deny our prayers, will not deny his Son's blood. It is
the best argument to quicken our prayers. Present God with his covenant
sealed: God will not deny his own hand and seal; present him with this per
formance of Christ's priestly office, which is the only office he hath confirmed
by an oath, Ps. ox. 5. He is a holy God, and wUl not deny his own oath.

1 Cob. XI. 26,] the end op the lobd's suppeb. 401
Plead this death, for such pleas honour his wiadom, glorify his love, own his
trath ; plead it, and all God's attributes will plead it with you. God him
self will join issue with you, for God's attributes are the same with himself
This time is the fittest time to prevail with God. When is a child moat pre
valent in his interceasion, but when he is most exact in his obedience ? Thia
was the highest teatimony of Christ's obedience, Philip, ii. 8, and engageth
God as a Father to shew the choicest tokens of his love. As Chriat waa
most obedient when he suffered it, we are most obedient when we believe it,
approve of it, and plead it. When Christ died, he deposited all his merita
in the hands of his Father. Go therefore to God for the legacies Christ left
at his death.
(4.) Plead this death against ain and Satan. Shew it against every
charge. We are like to meet with many rubs, sharp and weighty accusa
tions, too true for us to repel without the vigorous force of this death.
Whatsoever accusation Satan can present against you is answered here.
Have we sinned ? Christ hath suffered for ain ; have we ainned many sins?
Christ hath shed much blood, not only a drop ; have we sinned great sins ?
the death of Christ for sin was the death of the Son of God. Can the ains
of men be stronger to condemn than the blood of God ia to save ? We
have deserved hell, but Christ hath suffered it. The wrath of God, which is
the spirit and quintessence of hell, lighted upon him. Christ's death will
answer all the subtle charges of the devil, appease the terrors of a raging
conacience, silence the euraea ofthe law, and quench the flames of hell.
4. Humbly.
(1.) Consider in thia representation what we should have suffered. Thoae
strokes laid upon Christ were due to us ; on us should those vials of wrath
have been poured. We should have been the mark of all the arrows of
God's vengeance. The tragedy acted on Christ should have been acted on
us. Had that justice which was due to us seized ua, we should have been
held prisoners for ever. What power could have rescued us from Almighti
ness ? Those terrors were marching against ua. Christ then changed states
with us, took our sins to answer for them, and gave us his righteouaneas to
meet the juatice of God withal. He auffered the paina of hell, the wrath
of God, and purchased heaven for us, which he might have kept without
emptying himaelf, and sent ua down to hell. The sufferings were endured
by him, but the right to them was oura ; it was ' for our tranagresaions he
waa wounded, for our iniquitiea he was bruised, for our peace that he was
chastised,' Isa. liii. 5.
(2.) Consider the deplorable misery wherein we were. How deeply were
we sunk into the mire, that nothing could pluck us out but the Son of God !
How strongly was the stain of sin impressed in our souls, that nothing could
wash it off but the blood of God ; how enthralled to the devil, that
nothing could give ua liberty but the death of Chriat ; how obnoxious to
the wrath of God, that not the entreaties of Christ, but the voice of his blood
only, could procure our redemption from the anger of that God, who had in
finite compassions as well as infinite justice I
5. ThankfuUy. Such mercies as the death of Christ require high and
raised thanksgivings. It is the greatest disingenuity not to pay thankful
ness for a free mercy. The supper is a feast upon a sacrifice, as feasts fol
lowed the Jewish sacrifices. Christ was offered to God as a sacrifice, and
returned to us as a banquet. He was ground by the wrath of God to be
bread fit for us to feed on.
(1.) Bleasing God for hia love in offering up his Son to death. In this
death God set open the flood-gates of mercy, and showered down the choicest
. VOL. IV. c c

402 chabnock's woeks. [1 Cob. XI. 26.
blessings on the heads of behevers. What is creating to redeeming love ?
In creation God gave us a being, in redemption he gives ua his Son, not
only to live with us, but die for ua, and afterwards to live for ever for our
happineaa. (2.) Bleaaing Christ for his love in dying. Had not he drunk this bitter
cup, we had not tasted a drop of mercy ; we had never triumphed if Christ
had not died. What thaiikfulness is due to him because he died for us ?
How much greater thankfulness is due, since he bore our sins, which is
more than death ? Who can express that dreadful conflict, when he did
sweat clots of 'blood? He bore the torments of hell in pondere, if not in
specie ; the tantundem, if not the idem. The remembrance of it being com
manded by him, witnesseth the solemn pleasure he took in suffering death
for us ; unwelcome and forced things would not be delightfully remembered
by him, or ordered to be remembered by us, as a mark of favour.
(3.) The costliness of this redemption by the death of Christ should ex
cite us to shew it forth with thankfulness. Our redemption this way cost
God more than thousands of millions of worlds would have cost him. There
was no need of shedding any blood to make them ; but the best that ever
was or can be waa shed to restore us : a word would create them, blood
must redeem us. It hath cost God more than all the angels in heaven ever
cost him ; and should it not be remembered with thankfulness ?
(4.) The gain we have by it should excite us to it. Death was bitter to
him, but comfortable to us. His punishment was our discharge ; and he
died for us that we might live with him. What gain we have by hia resur
rection and ascension is originally from his death. It is ' by the blood of
the Lamb' that the devilis 'overcome,' Rev. xn. 11. By his blood are
the promises sealed ; by his blood all the treasures of grace, mercy, peace,
happiness, riches of glory are gathered together for us.
Use 1. If the Supper be a shewing the death of Christ, it is then no sacrifice,
but the commemoration of a sacrifice. Sacrifices imply some kind of ex
piation and atonement ; this is a natural notion. The heathens thought by
them to appease the anger of their gods. But the Supper is not intended
as an expiation of sin, or a satisfaction to God, but a representing that
oblation which Christ made of himself by death, which was propitiatory, and
therefore is rather a feast upon a sacrifice, than a sacrifice. In a sacrifice,
something is offered to God ; in a sacrament, aomething ia exhibited to us.
2. How should the death of Christ run much in our thoughts, and our
affections be raised ! Such affections we should endeavour to have, as we
beheve those good disciples that stood by him, and saw him hanging and
bleeding on the cross, had. And our affections should be of another nature ;
for it is a question whether they understood the ends of his death, because
none of them expected hia resurrection. If we oan aee Christ pierced and
not mourn, we may well question whether we have a spirit of grace in us,
for such a frame is a proper fruit of this spirit, Zech. xii. 10. We should
travel to the Mount of Olives, where Christ prayed and wept ; enter into
the garden, the place of hia agony. See how humbly he went, bearing the
cross ; take notice of the pains he endured, the mooka and scoffs flung at
him; conceive, if we can, the dolorous cries of Chriat, when he had lost
the sense and sweetness of hia Father's love ; and from thence let our affec
tions get warmth. How should we set Christ before our eyes, and have
the freshest remembrance of his dying love !
Doct. 2. The Lord's Supper is to be frequently celebrated and participated
of. As often, implying, it ought often to be done.

1 Cob. XI. 26.] the end of the lobd's suppeb. 403
For exphcation.
1. How often is not determined. There is no fixed time for the adminis
tration of this prescribed by any precept, no day commanded for it ; but the
celebration of it on the Lord's day was the primitive practice. No day
fitter, in regard of its separation to God, in regard of public meeting, in
regard of remembrance, both of the death of Christ and his resuwrection ;
the battle and the victory, his death in the supper, his resurrection in the
day. Nor how often on that day is it determined by any precept, whether
weekly or monthly. The performance is commanded by Christ : ' Do this
in remembrance of me,' is urged by the, apostle in this chapter, but how
often is not prescribed. God was more punctual in the Jevrish sacraments :
cfrcumcision was fixed the eighth day, the passover annually in March.
2. Nor can there be a constant time fixed for every particular person ;
because there are varieties in the cases of good men, who may, by some
emergency, find themselves hindered one time, and not another. Sometimes
men's various callings adminiater to one more distractions than the calling
of another, that they .cannot rightly dispose themselves, nor spend so much
time as is necessary to a due preparation ; and there is more fruit by one
sacrament, when men come with a suitable frame, than by a hundred
slightly approached to. Though the passover was annually fixed, and under
a severe penalty to be celebrated, yet there was a dispensation allowed to
those that were under ceremonial uncleanness, or engaged in busineaa on a
joumey, Numb. ix. 18 ; but thoae were diversions brought upon them by the
providence of God, not contrived by themselves, whioh rendered them
excusable. If any man had left hia journey to that time, which he might
have performed at another, and had delayed it on purpose that he might
avoid the attendance on that ordinance, I question whether he had been
within the compass of God's indulgence. Yet in those cases, though they
were dispensed with at the first celebration of it on the fourteenth day of
the first month, they were ordered to keep it the fourteenth day of the next
month, and not to stay till the next annual revolution. Numb. ix. 10, 11.
Yet we find the passover omitted all the time they were in the wilderness,
as well as circumcision ; and some observe that there was but one passover
kept all tbe time of Joshua. And so great were the corruptions in the
Jewish church, that when Josiah came to the crown in the eighth year of
his age, and began in tbe eighth year of his reign to ' set his heart towards
God' (2 Chron. xxxiv. 3), yet it was ten years before he could prepare
them to keep the passover, which was kept in the eighteenth year of his
reign, 2 Chron. xxxv. 19. It was commendable in him to restore it, sinful
in the people to neglect it, since it was settled by a plain and standing
command. 3. It was anciently often participated of. Some* think every day, from
that of Acts ii. 46, ' They continued daily with one accord in the temple,
and breaking bread from house to house,' in analogy to the daily aacrifice
in the temple. Othera understand it of their frugal and charitable enter
tainments of one another. That it was every Lord's day, ia out of question
by the ancient writings declaring the custom of the church. And Acts ii.
42, the breaking bread, which ia understood by most of the sacramental
bread, is joined with doctrine. They would lay in a viaticum and provision
in those hard and stormy times, when they expected to be snatched away
by the fury of persecutors before the next day of pubhc meeting. And this
was thefr custom, to join this to other aots of worship on the Lord's day :
Acts XX. 7, ' And upon the first day of the week, when the disciples came
* Mr Joseph Mede.

404 chabnock's woeks. [1 Cob. XI. 26.
together to break bread.' And this was afterwards kept up in the church in
the time of Justin Martyr, and by some in tbe time of Austin, long after the
other, which practice was perhaps grounded on Ezek. xliii. 27 : ' And it
shall be upon the eighth day, and so forward, the priest shall make your
bumt-offerings upon the altar, and your peace-offerings, and I will accept'
you, saith the Lord;' a prophecy of gospel times, and the cessation of the
ceremonial law of daUy sacrifices; by bumt-offerings being meant the Lord's
Supper, the remembrance of the great burnt-offering whereby our peace
was made ; and by peace-offering, prayer and thanksgiving, which are caUed
sacrifices in Scripture, Heb. xiii. 15 ; and on the Lord's day, being the
eighth day, fallowing upon the seventh, the Jewish Sabbath. It is likely it
ia not absolutely necessary that it should be administered every Lord's day,
when the word is preached. The passover, the Jewish sacrament, was but
annual, though Mosea, the law of Mosea, wa« read every Sabbath in the
synagogue. The celebration came to be more seldom, because the fre
quency of it begat a coldness in the affections of the people, and the com
monness occasioned too much contempt of it. The esteem and reverence
of this ordinance was dashed unon this rock. The duty is extraordinary ;
they are tremenda mysteria. trreat 'preparations are necessary to great
duties ; affections must be much exercised, which are wound up to a higher
pitch by the novelty and rarity, and flag by the commonness of an exceUent
thing. The commonness of fasts in our days, and even at this time, hath
driven true humiliation almost out of doors.
4. Yet to be frequent in it is agreeable to the nature of the ordinance,
and necessary for the wants of a Christian. By too much fasting we often
lose our stomachs. The passover indeed waa annual, God fixed it to that
time ; but they had thefr daily sacrifices in the temple, which were types of
Christ, and remembrancers to them of what was in time to be exhibited.
We have none but this settled by Christ as an ordinance of commemoration
of what hath been exhibited ; therefore we ought not, for the time, to con
form ourselves only to an annual custom. It is not to be neglected out of
a wilful contempt, or a pretence of humility. Disobedience is not a part of
humility, but the fruit of pride againat God ; and though a aense of un
worthiness may be so great as to hinder a free and cheerful approach, and
deter for a time, yet there ought to be endeavours to get rid of those clouds.
We must not rest in lazy and idle complaints. That is no true sense of our
own unworthiness which hinders us from a necessary duty.
Frequent it should be. The too much deferring doth more hurt than the
frequent communicating. The oftener we carefully and behevingly com
municate, the more disposed we shall be for it.* Abstinence from it oan
never be good, but ex accidenti, either for defect of a due disposedness, or
to excite a greater reverence ; but to communicate believingly is good, per se,
in itself. Now that which is good in itself is to be preferred before that
which is good accidentaUy. If we abstain from it for reverence, we may
the rather come for reverence ; for if it be worthily received, it increaseth
our reverence of God, and affection to him.' That is the best reverence of
God which owns his authority.
It ought not to be neglected, upon these reasons :
1. Because of the author. It is a feast of God'a providing, to which he
invitea us ; to neglect it is a contempt of God's rich provision and gracious
condescensions. The great God appointed not any trifiing ordinance ; his
wisdom appoints none but what his power can make worthy instruments ; bis i i
goodnesa wiU appoint none but what hia love will make highly beneficial :
* Suarez, vol. xv. disp. Ixix. sect. iv. p. 889.

1 Cob. XI. 26.] the end of the lobd's suppbe. 405
the contempt of it is a slighting both of his wiadom and grace. It ia a com
mand immediately from Christ, and therefore the command of God, who' hath
approved of him and everything he did, and set his seal to this commandment
of our Saviour's, and all the reat. Had it not, been agreeable to his Father's
will, he had not been advanced to his royal dignity to sit upon his throne.
It is Chriat'a command, whom we are bound to obey, by virtue of our aUegi
ance to him, by virtue of the salvation we hope for by him, by virtue of the
affectionate obligationa we have received from him. It is his command,
whom we must own as our Lord, if we expect him as our Saviour : Luke
xxii. 19, ' This do in remembrance of me.' It is not left at liberty, do if
you will, but this do. He is our Lord, and he is our Saviour ; not only our
Saviour, but our dying Saviour. If hia death be to be valued as the ground
of our happinesa, hia legaciea are to be esteemed as a part of our privilege.
He that was going to lay down hia life for us, would not appoint what was
unnecessary for our present state ; yea, were it of no use to us, it is enough
that it hath his sanction, whose sole authority deservea to be remembered by
us. It was the breaking a positive command, in the eating the forbidden
fruit, lost Adam paradise. If God pitcheth upon any means, though never
so weak in themselves, they shall be effectual, and means seeming more
powerful in themselvea ahall effect nothing. If the blast of rams' horns be
ordained for the overthrow of the walls of Jericho, Joah. vi. 5, they shall do
that which he hath appointed. If they be thought contemptible after God's
order, all the battering engines in the world shall prove ineffectual to gain
the victory. If Jordan be appointed for the healing Naaman's leprosy,
2 Kings V. 10, the waters of Abana and Pharpar, rivera of Damascus,
shall never be medicinal. When God appointed lamps for the defeat of the
Midianites, Judgea vii. 20, had Gideon shghted them as too weak, and
assaulted them with hia numerous host, he had received a rout instead of a
victory. When God orders any instrument of conveyance, all other means
will be successless ; and not only sO, but God will be offended, because hia
institution is contemned ; and what oan then reasonably be expected from a
slighted God ?
2. The time when Christ instituted it ahews it not worthy of our neglect.
It was a little before his death : 1 Cor. xi. 23, ' The same night in which he
waa betrayed he took bread.' Good men (much less would a good and bounti
ful Saviour) do not use to employ themselves in trivial concerns, when they
are near expiring. That which was instituted, when wrath began visibly to
march against him, Judas upon the point of betraying him, and is to continue
till his second coming, is not without a desirable fruit. Had it been a need
less ceremony, he would not have breathed out a word for ita institution ;
had it been an institution of a light concern, some other time would have
been chosen by him for the settlement pf it. We may gather the necessity,
as well as the value of it, from the time of its institution, which shews that
there ia something worthy in it of our esteem, and undeserving our neglect.
The last words, actions, legacies of dying friends, are never thought matters
wholly to be neglected. Joseph's brethren questioned not their pardon
from Joseph for the injury they had done him, when they used so powerful
an argument as the command of their dying father : Gen. 1. 16, 17, ' Thy
father did command before he died ;' and shall we undervalue, by a wilful
neglect, the commands of a dying Saviour, settled by him just before he went
to remove the wrath of God from us upon himself ?
3. The enda of it declare the unworthiness of neglecting it.
(1.) The remembrance of Christ. This waa the end, and twice repeated,
1 Cor. xi. 24, 25. In the giving the bread, ver. 24 ; in the cup, ver. 25. We

406 chabnock's wobks. [1 Coe. XI. 26.
are naturally unmindful of God, ungrateful to Christ ; we need something to
renew our remembrance of him. He hath left us this dark glass, whereiij
we may see his face till he return with a full glory ; and is it an affection to
him never to look upon his picture, the medal of himself, wherein he hath
engraven the tracks of his dying love ; aU that he did, aU that he,purchased,
all his fulness, all his treasures, wherein we may behold him as a Redeemer,
pouring out his blood for us, aa a sanctifier pouring his blood into us, as a
benefactor opening hia enriching treasures to us, as a supplier providing for
all our wants? Howcan we say we love him, if we do not mind him? What
value have we for him, if he be not in our thoughts ? Well, but we may
remember Christ otherways without this ceremony. We may, but do we ?
Do you frequently ponder upon him ; are your thoughts of him edged with
choice and ravishing affections to him ; doth not the body of death hinder
you from thinking of the Lord of life ? But suppose you are not one minute
forgetful of his love, doth it consist with your professed affection to him
to choose your own ways of remembering him, and neglect his ? Suppose
we h'd a friend who had redeemed us from the galleys, restored us from
servitude, redeemed our lives, instated us in a large inheritance, and was to
take a long journey, promising to return again, .leaving with us his picture,
which he would have us look upon at some special seasons, and express in
that method a particular mindfulness of him. Though we could not without
an excusable ingratitude forget him had we not that picture, yet it were but
an unworthy return to deny tbe obaervance of ao small an order to a friend
to whom we owe ourselves. This ia all the picture Christ hath left of him
self; he never appointed any images or crucifixes, never imprinted the fea
tures of his face upon Veronica'a napkin. Ia it not ingratitude to neglect
the remembrance of him in his own method, when he might have put hard
conditions upon us ; and when it is not a mere sight of him, but a spiritual
feast with him, wherein we may suck his very blood into the veins of pur
souls, as well as the wine into those of our bodies ? The primitive Chris
tians used commemorations of the martyrs, whose blood they counted the
seed of the church ; and shall the stated commemorations of that blood be
neglected, which is the foundation, the price, and the purifying fountain of
the church ?
(2.) It is a seal of the covenant. This is the common nature of a sacra
ment, to be a seal of the righteousness or justification with God by faith in
Christ, Rom. iv. 14.* As a seal affixed to a writing conveys to a man the lands
and gooda named in the writing. It is not only a sign which represents,
but a seal which confirms, the benefit ; not a bare picture, but a seal where
by pardon and the whole design of salvation is passed over to us : Luke
xxii. 28, ' This cup is the new Testament in my blood, which is shed for
you.' It is a confirmation of the rich charter of God. There is a convey
ance, take, eat ; take, drink ; take Christ with all his treasures, wifh all his
gracea. Thia is a- pledge of the promise, a pavm given you for the glory to
be bestowed upon you. He seals it to the eye by the elements, and to a
believing heart by the Spirit. It seals not the truth of the death of Christ,
or the truth of your faith. It supposeth faith in the communicant, and
supposeth the death of Christ in the institution ; but it seals the right of
faith, and the interest of faith. It ia a seal of the righteousness of faith, of
the interest of faith in that righteousness it lays hold on, as the seal of a
deed seals the right ai;d interest of the person in that land conveyed to him
by the deed. What there is in Christ, is sealed to us in the sacrament for
our comfort ; the privileges he hath purchased, and the graces he is endowed
* Vines ou the Lord's Supper, p, 824.

1 CoE. XI. 26.] the end of the lobd's suppeb. 407
with ; and when you have thia seal you have arguments for prayer, and power
to enforce them. Lord, here ia thy bow in the cloud, a sign that thou wilt
not drown the world ; here ia thy aeal in the aacrament, a sign that thou
wilt not charge my sin upon me, which hath been charged upon my Saviour.
It was told me that it waa a body broken for me, blood abed for me. I
have taken it upon this account, I have taken thia seal, I have covenanted
to obey thee, I am willing and desiroua, and I will be induatrioua to do
it ; be a God keeping covenant with me and truth for ever. The honour
of God lies at pawn in his aeal, whereby strong consolation cannot be denied
to those that lay hold upon Christ in it. Aa the passover was a pledge aa
well aa a memorial, a pledge of a spiritual aa well as memorial of a tem
poral deliverance, so is the supper a pledge of what is to come, as well as
a memorial of what is past ; a pledge of all the fruits of the death of Christ
yet behind. Should this then, that is so desirable and confirming a seal,
be neglected, which we may believingly plead as God's act and deed, when
it is not a bare stamp of a seal, which signifies nothing but the image
upon the seal ; a seal to a deed which givea the assurance of the ad
vantages in the deed, and an interest in the contents of the deed, and what
is conveyed by it.
(8.) It is a renewing our covenant with him. It is a federal rite wherein
God exhibits, on his part, Christ and his benefits to us, and we profess our
subjection and obedience to him, laying more solemn vows upon ourselvea ;
whence they were called sacraments, the word signifying a military oath,
whereby soldiers oblige themselves to be true to their general and the cause
they fought for. And Pliny saith,* he learned it of some Christians, that
at their meeting they did Sacramento se obstringere, ne furta, ne latrocinia,
ne adulteria commiiterent, &c. Covenants are always mutual, something to
be done by us as well as for us. God seals the benefits of tbe covenant on
his part, and we seal to the duties of the covenant on ours. It strengthens
ua in the assurance of the benefits promiaed, and engageth ua to a perform
ance of the duties required. The exhibiting the signs is the seal on God's
part ; our receiving the signs is the seal on our part. By taking them we
acknowledge that we stand to the conditions, and restipulate with God again
that we will be his ; and upon thia striking handa with God, we claim a right,
and lay hold upon his seals and plead them. You avouch God to be your
God, Deut. xxvi. 16-18, obliging youraelvea to a greater distance from sin,
, and detestation of it ; divorce from it to a more quickened obedience, vigor
ous faith, holy life, and exacter service; fetching strength from the death of
Christ in the supper to this end. Is not this desirable, to be in covenant
with God, to have God in covenant with us, to have it more assured on both
parts, which is the fehcity and aecurity of a creature ?
(4.) It is a communion with God. As the partaking of things sacrificed
to idols was a fellowship with devils, 1 Cor. x. 20, so the partaking of that
which was sacrificed to God, is a fellowship with God. There is in thia
action more communion with God (though not the sole act of communion,
as some say) than in any other religious act. Prayer is ah act of homage ;
praise an act of gratitude. We have not so near a communion with a per
son, either by petitioning for something we want, or returning him thanks
for a favour received, as we have by sitting with him at his table, partaking
of the same bread and the same cup. In all nations the nearest fellowship
conaists in acts of this nature. The eating of the aupper, as the eating of
sacrificea, is a federal rite between God and the believer, signifying that
there is a covenant of friendship between him and them. It is the Lord's
* Plin. lib. X. epist, xcvii.

408 chabnock's woeks. [1 Cob. XI. 26.
table, and what feasted and cheered the heart of God in heaven, viz., the
body and blood of Christ, God gives us to feast our souls on earth, so that
we do in a manner eat and drink with bim in this love banquet. Take, eat,
manifests a communion ; Christ is really presented to ns, and faith reaUy
takes him, closes with him, lodgeth him in the soul, makes him an indweller ;
and the aoul hath a spiritual communion with him in hia life and death, as
if we did really eat hia flesh and drink hia blood presented to us in the
elements. Eating signifies taking in Chriat as our own, hia righteousness,
and whatsoever is his in communion with him. Is this a privilege to be ne
glected ? To sit at God's table, partake of his dainties, that which he doth
most highly value, and deserves the value of the creature infinitely above
the sitting at the table of the greateat monarch on earth ; that which was
the aweet savPur to God upon the croas, is offered to ua as a feast upon the
table ; and we eat that body and drink that blood which atoned God, and
thereby have a communion with him in his pleasure and delight.
4. The benefits of this ordinance require frequency. As everything hath
its use in creation, so likewise in redemption ; God made nothing in vain in
the one, and appoints nothing in vain in the other.
These benefits are many.
(1.) Weakening of sin; not physically but moraUy. The lively repre
sentation and consideration of the death of Christ, with all its circumstances,
is a strong incentive and assistance to the mortifying sin in ua; and there is
no branch of the body of death, but aome consideration or other fetched
from the death of Chriat, hath a virtue to destroy. How ean any be proud
when he sees Christ lay down his life in the form of a mean man ; how
can he be covetoua, when he aeea Christ turning his back upon the profits
of the world ? Christ upon the cross, viewed by a sparkling eye of faith,
would work the same effect in our souls, which the looking upon the serpent
in the wilderness wrought in the Israelites' poisoned bodies, expelling the
venom from the vitals and out-works of the members, and abating the fury
of a corrupt paroxysm. Now as feathered arrows will fly further, and pierce
deeper, than when they are carried by their own weight only,* so such con
siderations, when helped by sensible representations, do more excite the
faculty to a vigorous operation by a more sensible affecting tho mind. The
word declares the evil of sin, and the sacrament ahews it in the person of
our Saviour ; sin is known by the word to be deadly, and it is seen to be so
in the supper. Then is the soul most affected against sin, when God's in
dignation against it is manifested, when it beholds Christ made a curse, and
bearing all that the law denounceth against sin, and seea the desert of sin
and the terrors of wrath. Never doth sin look so ghastly, and repentance
so sorrowfully, as when Christ and the soul meet together in this ordinance.
The looking upon Christ opens the spring of sorrow, Zech. xii. 10. In this
we take a crucified Christ that we may have crucified sina. The very
approach to thia ordinance, kindles resolutions against corruption, and
smothers the flames of sin in the soul. Who that understands the nature
of sin, and the evil consequents of it, would be without such a benefit ?
Are there no invading temptations to be rooted, no indwelling sins to be ex
pelled, no distractions to be settled ; ia there not atiU a root of bitterness
always sprouting, an inward serpent always brooding, an Egyptian furnace
in our hearts, sending out its sparks ; must not the root be more withered,
the poison cast out, the indwelling sin tamed, the furnace quenched ? Do
we not then need all the assistances to faith in the mortifying death of '
Christ ? As Christ upon the cross expiated sin, so Christ in the supper
* Amyrald, Thes. Salmur.

1 Coe. XI. 26.] the end of the lobd's suppeb. 409
mortifies sin by his Spirit, and purgeth thoae iniquities which are as a veil
between the face of God and the joy' of our soula. Faith acts more hvely
against its enemy, when it considers that the blood waa shed for the soul,
as to juatify, so to sanctify. As there must be a removal of those humours
which lurk in the body, whereby the vital principle is stifled, and growth
rebated, so there must be a removal of those spiritual diseasea which hinder
the raising our heads higher towards heaven.
(2.) Nourishment of the soul. In regard of the insensible decay of the
spirits of the body, there ia need of a continual supply to recruit them, and
keep them up in their due vigour ; our souls stand in no less need of being
succoured by a feast of fat thinga fuU of marrow. The flesh hath ita pro
visions, and grace must have hers. In the nourishment of the body, the
meat, by the vital heat in the stomach, is turned into the substance of
the body ; so by a believing participation of Chriat in the sacrament, we are
turned into the image of Christ, and nourished up by it to eternal life.
His flesh ia meat indeed, and his blood ia drink indeed, John vi. 65 ; he is
given to us as nourishment : ' Take, eat. This ia my body,' as nourishment
to be incorporated with us ; the bread is the sign of hia body, and his body
•is the bread of the soul ; the element conveys vigour to the body, and the
thing signified strength to the soul, and recruits it with new spirita. What
bread and wine do phyaically convey to the body, which is strength, com
fort, nourishment, that doth the body and blood of Christ by faith convey
to the soul, quickening, comforting, strengthening, cherishing grace. As
the new creature ia brought into being only by the power of Christ, so it is
maintained by the blood of Christ only, and Christ hath provided this to be
both our meat and our medicine, our food and our antidote, to revive our
soul, and cure and prevent our diseases, to repair the decays which the re
mainders of sin and evil humoura cause ^n our souls. It is not a naked
remembrance ; that would be in breaking the bread, and pouring out the
wine, by which actions are signified the death of Christ ; but nutrition ia
intended, therefore the bread is eaten, the wine drunk; our bodies need
daily bread ; the maintaining the life cannot consist with a total abstinence
from food. Who but a madman would be so cruel to himself as to deny his
faint body its ordinary relief and its stated meals ? Are any of our souls
so fat and flourishing as to need no more spiritual food ; are we grown up to
the degree and state of angels who never eat nor drink ? If we would not
contemn the food of our bodies, which common providence preparea for us,
have we any more reason to contemn the food of our souls, which rich grace
provides for us ? Aa we cannot expect healthful nourishment from corn,
but as dressed according to various methods, so we cannot expect nouriah-
ment from Christ but in the way of his own appointments.
(3.) Increase and exercise of grace. Christ is the storehouse and foun
tain of all the treaaurea of life and peace, but hia ordinancea are the channel.
Though Chriat hath treasures to enrich us, yet he will choose the way of
conveyance himself. By virtue of that principle whereby bodies live, they
grow up to that stature whioh is convenient for them, and their growth is
promoted by those meana which maintain life in them. It is eaten, it is
drank, to promote our growth as well as maintain our Uvea. Grace ia in
creased by Chriat ; he ia the flniaher as well aa the author, Heb. xii. 2; and
therefore the inoreaser of it, laying by degrees one stone upon another, till
he completes it by the top stone; dressing the plant to a greater flourishing.
Thia ordinance, therefore, ia of frequent tiae for the buUding up and bringing
forth more lively and juicy fruits. The elementa, bread and wine, are not
only nourishing, but strengthening, and so is the thing signified by them.

410 chabnock's woeks. [1 Cos. XI. 26.
Some speak of a garden of balsam trees in Egypt which bring forth no fruits
unless they be watered vrith a neighbouring fountain, wherein the blessed
virgin was reported often to have washed our Saviour. It is true of grace,
the balsam-tree in the soul, which will not thrive unleaa watered by the blood
of Christ. Faith ia increased thereby ; as the oftener the word is heard, so
the oftener sacraments are used, the more doth faith thrive. The same
arguments which first persuaded us to assent to the truth of a thing, the
more they are impressed upon us, the more sensible they are made to us,
the more they do continue and increase that persuasion ; and according to
the thriving of faith is the vigour of all other graces. Where should we find
this vigour for our graces, but in the body and blood of him who is the foun
tain of all grace to us ? This was instituted, indeed, while our Saviour was
mortal, but it conveys a spiritual immortality to our souls, because it receives
its strength and efficacy from his resurrection. It is here the smoking flax
may rise into a flame, and the bruised reed find ita support and repair; and
the spirit may be renewed even in the infirmities of the flesh. If we come
with weak grace and strong breathings, we may return with strong grace and
full satisfaction. Do not little sparka need frequent and gentle blasts to
blow them up ? Proficiency is our duty ; we must press forward towards
the mark, we must run our race ; it is our duty, then, to take our viaticum,
or provision, to enable us thereto. Why do we come to the word but to
have grace either wrought or increased ? Why should any believer, then,
neglect the other means of God's appointment ? Sacraments are the marts
wherein we trade for an increase of our atock, as well as the word. Since,
therefore, we are subject to decays, and liable to changes and wants in our
spiritual condition, we stand in need of a rooting and establishing ordinance.
If we would maintain the fire, it must not be by removing tbe fuel. If our
stomachs be lost, it is a sign our growth is stopped. Is our faith so strong
that it needs no further confirmation ; our grace mounted to that height
that it needs no further steps; our desires ,so sharp aa that they cannot
receive any keener edge ? It is an ordinance wherein grace is much exer
cised, and more unitedly about its object, Christ ; and were there no other
advantage than this, to have an opportunity to strike up all our graces to
gether, our clasping faith and our melting repentance, our flaming love and
our nimble desires, it were enough to make the ordinance itself desirable to
a Christian, since there is an unspeakable comfort in the very sound of him.
But so exceUent an ordinance cannot be without a more excellent benefit.
(4.) Sense and assurance of love often comes in by it. Wine ia comfort
ing. In no ordinance ia Chriat so particularly applied, ' Take, eat, this is
my body.' It concerns Christ to make them welcome to his table that come
with hearts thirsting for him. Christ was known by the breaking of bread,
when the disciples knew him not before in his opening the Scripture, Luke
xxiv. 80 ,81. Gladness attended the keeping of the passover, 2 Chron.
xxx. 21, 26. Great joy, then, in Jerusalem, not in the neglect of it. The
primitive Christians continued in their ' gladness of heart ' by ' breaking
bread from house to house,' Acts ii. 46. Much more surely by breaking
bread with Christ in the supper. It is the most probable time of the Spirit's
performing the great office, which is to bring things to remembrance, when
we are engaged in an ordinance, whose chief design is to bring Christ in bis
expiatory death to remembrance ; when the office of the Spirit, and the end
of the institution meet together, it is the most likely time for the Spirit to
exercise his office and join in with the end of the sacrament, to shew the .
high and heavenly things of our Saviour. There is a sweetness in a pro
mise, but more in a promise drawn into covenant with aU its ramifications.

1 Coe. XL 26.] the end op the lobd's suppeb. 411
God's seal, as well as his oath, is for confirmation ; his word is sufficient,
but lest that should be staggered at, he hath added hia oath ; if that should
leave any doubts, he hath fixed his seal, all which are the highway to a
comfortable assurance. The sin within us, and the devU without us, are
alwaya raising vapours, which gather into clouda, filling us with doubts, and
hindering the sense of God's comfortable face, staggering our hopes, and
making us queation that love which ia grounded upon so many promiaea.
God hath in thia given us a pledge of his love, and a ground of assurance, when
we have Christ printed clearer in his sufferings and his love, visibly repre
sented as made a curse in our stead, a sacrifice bearing his sins in our
i)ody, and expiating them by hia blood, and this Christ taken into our souls,
and pleaded to God as our security. Thus hath Christ given hia body for
ua, and left his body with us as a pawn, a pledge for all we want, for all the
good we can hope for. Sense of his love must be great, when the soul con
siders that his blood satisfied God, and may well satisfy it. When we eat
and drink believingly, our souls delight themselves in fatness. And as the
heart of God was satisfied with hiin upon the cross, so the heart of a Chris
tian is often replenished by him at a sacrament. What the gospel presents
in words, the sacrament doth in signs ; what the word presents to the ear,
the supper doth to the eye, to the taste, that we may have comfort come in
at all our senses. How often have drooping spirits met with comfort in the
very action ; and met with hidden manna in sacramental bread, like a
glorious Christ in a human body, and have had a full sense of a Saviour's
love accompanying the visible representation of it ? How often have his
people heard him in it speak peace, peace ; speak peace to them, and
breathfe peace in them, and kiss them with the kisses of his mouth ? How
often have their consciences been pacified, and their creeping joy found an
elevation ? There have been mutual glances ; Christ hath struck a beam
upon the aoul, imprinted a clearer stamp of love, and the soul hath clasped
its arms about a Saviour. And is such an ordinance fit to be neglected ?
(5.) Union with Christ is promoted. As the bread and wine, being turned
into our nature, become one with ns, so the body and blood of Christ, being
by faith turned into our substance, make us one with Christ. As tbe bread
and wine are physically united to us, so we are spiritually united to Christ,
Christ incorporating himself with us in a sacrament. He waa our surety
npon the crosa, he is our advocate in heaven ; and incorporated with us in
the supper in a spiritual, not a transubstantiate manner : ' I in them,'
John xvii. 23, 26. Can we too often clasp about him ; can the union be
often renewed, and become too close and strait ?
Use 1. How much is the neglect, if not contempt, of this institution to be
bewailed ! How sad a thing is it, that many for many years have turned
their backs upon breasts full of milk ! How hath it been regarded as if it
were an abrogated law, a seal out of date, torn off from the covenant, as
though the institutions of Christ were miserable comforters, and it were a
despicable privilege to receive entertainment at God's table.
(1.) It concerns such to inquire, whether the reasons of their neglect be
valid against a positive command. Since it is a command, Do this — not
only to remember Christ, but to remember Christ in thia method. Do this in
remembrance of me — it is worthy their consideration, whether tbe ground of
their neglect he such as will bear a divine scrutiny, and sustain the force of
God's inquisition. They must be evasions past understanding that can hold
water against a divine order. Though it may not always be frequented, yet
it is not always to be omitted. No excuse was valid against the passover,
but uncleanness or a journey, and that not for an annual but a month's

412 chabnock's wobks. [1 Coe. XI. 26.
omission. Num. ix. 18. But what light excuses have we to keep ua off from
a feast with God for many years, which we would not admit of to hinder us
from a feast with man ?
(2.) Was it appointed to be neglected ? Did Christ take such care tp
institute it, and we take care to avoid it ? did he give such a positive order
for no other end but that we should never regard it ? can we say we value
his word, when we slight his seal ? is your faith so strong in his word,
that it needs no strength from the seal ? was not the faith of the apostles
as strong at that time of institution as any man's, pr at least in some few
days after ? Yet it was not left ad lib'itum : you may do this, but do it.
Christ is a better judge of the weakness of our hearts, our pronenesa to for-
getfulneaa, the difficulty to preserve faith aa well as obtain it. And he insti
tuted it as an act of kindness aa well as authority, that it might be observed,
not neglected by us. Were there no end ofit, but only an act of bis will,
acceptance is a civility we owe our Saviour. If he had said, I pray you, do
this, could you have refused to him that died for you ; could you refuse it
to him that endured the wrath of God for you ? What had become of you
if he had not died ; all the angels could not have removed that load of wrath
that lay upon you ? If it be a command to do it, to neglect it ia a sin ; for
what is sin but a breach of God's command ? It is a direct command, not
drawn by consequence, as plain a command aa any in the decalogue, ' Do
it in remembrance of me ;' not, may do it, do it if you will, or, do it when
yon will.
(3.) How can such free themselves from unworthy reflections upon
Christ ? It is either an act of wisdom or folly in him. If of wisdom, why
are we so foolish as not to observe it ; if of folly, why do we at all believe
in him whom we count a foolish Saviour ? It was either an act of love in
him or disdain. If of love, why are we so ungrateful as not to regard it ?
if of disdain, why should we depend upon a person whom we virtually charge
with leaving a mocking ordinance to us just before his going out of the
world ? We must either quite discard our faith, or discard our neglect.
There is no doubt but it was both an act of wisdom and love in Christ ; the
wisdom that conducted the course of his life was not absent from him when
he was so near his death, nor had hia love which animated him to death the
next day, forsaken him the night before ; had he left his love, he might have
prevented his death. To neglect it, then, ia to vilify Chriat'a institution, to
disparage hia skill and care of his church, as though there were no need of
any representations of him, or as if something might have been ordered better.
It is to charge Christ with a trifling institution, it is to charge him with the
greatest folly, that when he was to encounter with wrath and death, he could
not find something else to busy himself about ; that he could not pitch upon
a better thing to recommend to you, as a token of his care, and a support for
your souls. If we will thus undertake to preacribe Chriat what he should do,
this is to be, not his servants to be guided by him, but hia lords to rule him,
and give him' his instructiona, aa though he were our, not hia Father's,
ambaasador. How can we hope for the benefita he hath purchased, while
we caat such reflections upon him, as if he were busy about just nothing ?
(4.) Is it neglected because the elements are so mean, and the thing so
easy in itself ? Had any Israelite neglected to turn his eye upon the brazen
serpent, the poison in his blood had digged his grave. What might they not
have objected against it ; what good can a look upon a brazen figure do my
wounds ? I want a plaster for my sore, more than a cast of my eye.
Brass will naturally inflame my distemper, not assuage it. Can the picture
of a serpent cure the bitiug of a real one, and at such a distance ? This and

1 Coe. XI. 26.] the end of the lobd's suppeb. 413
more might have been objected against that, than against this ; but such
logic would have destroyed the dispute. Or is it easy, and therefore fit to be
neglected ? It was our Saviour's mercy to make it so easy, who might have
imposed harder conditions on us ; and shall we slight his tenderness, who
was loath to burden us, and careful to relieve us ? What would have been
said, had it been aa painful as the circumcising the flesh, or as distasteful as
the bitter herbs of the passover? It is true, it is common bread, it is com
mon wine in itself ; but it is consecrated bread, and consecrated wine in its
use. It hath tbe stamp of Christ upon it, as the wax taken out of the shop
hath the seal of the conveyer, which the purchaser would not part with for
all the wax left behind in the hands of the seller.
(5.) Or do we think Christ is come again, that we neglect it ? The com
mand was dated from the night before his death, and is to be in force till he
return again. Was it his resurrection that is meant by^his coming ? Would
Christ at such a time appoint an ordinance, that was to laat but three days,
and never like to be put in practice after hia inatitution ? Or waa it till he
came in Spirit ? He was come in Spirit at Pentecost, before the apostle in
the text urged the institution ; therefore come again cannot be meant of
that. The ordinance then had ceased before Paul writ to the Corinthians ;
and he would never have restored an abrogated institution, who was so
vehement an opposer of an abrogated ceremonial law. Or till he come in
Spirit into the soul ? Waa Chriat in Spirit in none of the Corinthians, who
were a church of great graces and great gifts, as well as great corruptions ?
Paul rectifies their corrupt mixtures, but exempts not any from a due
observance. (6.) Why doth any one neglecter of it, who hath faith, observe any other
command or institution ? Those that make not conscience of all known
duties, make conscience of none. He that offends in one point, breaka the
whole law ; he that contemna one point of the goapel, violatea the authority
of the whole. I do not see how any part of the Christian religion would be
dear to any who have so slight a regard to that whioh may claim an equality
with any ordinance, and a precedency in our esteem in some respects, in
regard of the positive command of our Saviour, the time when he appointed
it, and the length of its duration, ' Till I come.' I doubt the apostasies of
many, and the nnfruitfulness in the lives of professors, may be charged upon
either the neglect of this, or an unworthy carriage in it. He hath little de
sire to gain Christ, or preserve Christ, that will have him in his own way, and
not in Christ'a way. What we desire, we should take a course to enjoy in
the method of that person who only can fulfil our desires.
(7.) Or is it unfitness that is the cause of neglect ? Hath any man heard
of repentance, and faith, and holiness, and yet hath nothing of them ? What
a miserable case ia this ! If you are not fit for this ordinance, you are not
fit for heaven. What will you do when you come to die ? He that ia not
fit for the supper, is not fit for heaven, for the marriage day of the lamb.
Ia not the unfitness from sloth, laziness, and unwilhngness to take pains
with the heart ? If any man can say he hath usedall his industry, by prayer
and repentance, to fit himself for heaven and for the ordinance, and done
what he can, God requires no more than men are able to do. If unfitneas
to come be dangerous, is not a total omission as dangerous? Will you plead
your unfitness to God at the last day, aa an excuse for disobedience ? What
an excuse will this be, Lord, I would have been often at the supper, but I
was unfit, I gave way to a constant courae of temptation, I never had an
eagerness of desire for it, I was torn with various distractions, I let sin
reign in me, the care of a farm or a trade diverted my thoughts from it ;

414 chabnock's woeks. [1 Coe. XI. 26.
what self-condemning excuses are those ? Yon know how firm they were to
stave off the anger of the king from those that made them in the Gospel to
excuse their not coming to hia wedding. Mat. xxii. Or ia it a perfect fitness
that ia not to be found within the circumference of the earth ? You will
make God a hard master under the gospel, to receive none but those that
have a perfect fitnesa for him. If any would be perfectly fit, the course is
not to reject the means for it. Diseases can never be cured with a shghting,
but by using the remedy.
(8.) Consider what you loae, and wha;t danger you incur. Whatsoever
benefits are stored up in a sacrament we lose by neglects ; whatsoever obe
dience is in observing it, we loae the reward of ; we lose the fruit of bis love
in it, and we deny the obligation of his authority, and the honour of obe
dience to it. God will not calmly and coldly suffer neglects. To detract
from any ordinance of Christ, is in part to diminish the Scripture, to deny
part of his will and testament. Why was the neglect of the Jewiah sacra
ments so severely punished, that the peraons were out off, not by a civU
punishment, but by the hand of God, aa the Jews interpret it ? Is not the
grace offended in oura as good as was in theirs ? Ours may claim the pre
cedency of them in benefits, and therefore should in estimation. It is much,
that when Christ hath graciously condescended to us, we should not thank
fully ascend to our own privilege. WeU, then, why shall not the incon
ceivable love of a Saviour move you to the obedience of a command so
easy, so beneficial, so alluring ? You are bound to profess Christ, to remem
ber him in your hves, who remembered you at his death. Do you think
yourselves his members within the great charter of salvation which he hath
purchased and sealed ? How can any be members of his corporation, and
disobey his orders ? Are you not entered by baptism ; have you not vowed
and promised your allegiance; and is the neglect of a known and positive
command the way to perform it ? Consider it is a law made by the pur
chaser of our salvation.
Use 2. Is of exhortation to observe it, and that frequently. Though a
dying Saviour is remembered, yet a living Saviour is sought for in it ; and
shall not we be aa ready to seek a living Christ in the sacrament, as the
women were to seek a dead Christ in the sepulchre? Mat. xxviii. 1. The
neglect of it doth speak some light thoughts of it. Is it because of the
meanness of the elements ? We may as well despise a great Redeemer, be
cause clothed with the infirmities of a mortal body, as despise the spiritual
representations of him, because clothed with the meanness of earthly ele
ments. God doth always delight to convey great things through mean
mediums. Gideon shall route a Midianitish army with potsherds, with
earthen pitchers ; and the jaw-bone of an ass shall be more successful in
the hand of Samson, than a massy sword in the hand of Goliath. By the
weakness ofthe cross God redeems the world; by the foolishness of preaching
he converts a world, and conveys through earthen vessels a treasure where
with to enrich his people, and a strength that makes confusion in the king
dom of darkness ; and by these elements, mean in appearance, he (iot^i
nourish the believer, still making those ordinancea the pipes of his invisible
grace. Or is it for want of a disposition ? If there be no faith at aU, the
cause is sad ; if there be no fitness for heaven, there is no present fitness
to converse with Christ in his supper. Or is it but a weak faith ? The more
need then of a strengthening ordinance. Would we have a more elevated
frame of heart ? The way to ascend to the top of a pinnacle is not to run
from the steps which lead to it. Who is sufficient for theae thinga ? But
the more spiritually sensible we are of our own insufficiency, the more con-

1 CoE. XI. 26.] THE END OF THE LOEd's SUPPEE.

415

fidence we may have in the sufficiency of a Saviour ; the more senaible we
are of our disease, the more confident of the skill and affection of our phy
sician, and the more we should apply ourselves to his prescriptions.
Let us consider some questions.
(1.) Will any believer be guilty of disobedience to the author of his faith ?
Do this, is a word of command, Luke xxii. 19. Not left ad libitum, it is not,
you may if you will, as was said before ; but do it in remembrance of me.
Do it, if you will remember me ; I will account you no rememberers of me,
unleaa you do it. The command was given to the apostles, but to dehver
it to the church : 1 Cor. xi. 23, ' For I have received of the Lord that which
also I have delivered unto you.' We muat obey the commands given to the
apostles, so far as they are practicable by us, aa well as think to share in
the comforts of the prayer Christ put up for us and his apostles, John
xvii. 20. The influence of what was spoken in their presence extended to
all believers, and the observance of what waa inatituted in their preaence is
to be regarded by all believers. God would not only have the Israelites
cleanse themselves, but be circumcised and eat the passover, when they were
upon the borders of Canaan, before he would bless them with the victory,
Joshua V. 2, 10. God would have them renew covenant with him, in the
way of his own appointment, before they should have possession of Canaan.
Suppose there were no benefit to be expected, ' though every institution of
Christ is a mark of his love, as well as a fruit of his authority,' yet doth not
the greatness of Christ's love deserve our tenderness of his authority in his
commands ? If they had nothing of privilege but all of duty, love to
Christ would make ua often remember him, and obedience would make our
love choose the way of hia own ordering, and not ways at our own plea
sure. Deus voluit is a sufficient motive, and we cannot free ourselvea
from the censure of diaobedience, if we observe not his commands in the
same manner that he enjoins them, in their cfrcumstances as well as their
substance. (2.) Is Christ so mean a friend as not to be remembered ? The memory
of a good friend should be very precious. Is there any friend we have in
the world can outstrip him in affection, and deserve a greater share in our
first-born thoughts ? What was ever more advantageous to us than the
death of Christ, by whom we have our life ; than the agonies of Christ, to
which we owe our freedom from the wrath to come ? Do we not remember
our own benefit in remembering our gracious benefactor, who bore our sor
rows that we might enter into his joy ? groaned under the curses due to ua,
that we might triumph in his Father's love and in hia own glory; who
emptied himself to fiU us, and received the wrathful strokes to free ua ; who
took our sins upon himself, and cast upon us the robe of his righteousness ;
bore the load of our tranagressions to enrich ns with the treasures of his
merits ; endured our death to procure our life, and hung upon our cross to
advance us to sit upon his throne. Is it not a great unkindness to be un
willing frequently to remember so cordial and choice a friend ? Besides, ia
it not fit to remember him frequently, who remembera believera perpetually ?
He regarded such in his last prayer, he remembers such in heaven to plead
for them, he remembers them under their bespotting corruptions. Shall not
believers remember him, who hath laid in his blood a perfect foundation for
their perfect happinesa ? He remembers them that were enemies, and have
too much enmity stiU ; and shall not they remeinher him who ia a clear and
perfect friend ? He bears their names upon his breast, aa Aaron did the
ten tribes on the ephod, Exod. xxviii. 12, and remembers even those
who have crucified him; and shaU not they remember Christ who were

416 chabnock's wobks. [1 Coe. XI. 26.
never wronged by him ? Should we not rejoice to aee the rainbow in the
clouds, which is a sign of God's securing covenant against a destroying
deluge ? And shall we neglect the signa of God's securing covenant agamst
an overflowing wrath ?
(3.) Why should we not often be in those ways where we may meet with
our best friend ? Certainly he is as graciously present in this as in any
other ordinance. He is present with us in observing every thing which he
hath commanded. Mat. xxviii. 20 ; and shall this be without a more special-
presence, when it was instituted, for a more special remembrance of him 1
He is present symbolically, as a man by his picture ; he ia present spiritu
ally, the soul sees him by faith, as Abraham saw his day at a distance, andi
that with joy ; he is present by hia efficacy, as the aun ia present in the earth,
though many hundred miles distant in its body. ' Thia ia my body,' ' this
is my blood ;' as sure aa this is bread and thia is wine, ao surely by faith
are you partakers of my body and blood in this ordinance. Can this be said
of any other ordinance ? Where is Christ so particularly present, so closely
applied as in this ?
(4.) Have you no graces that need strengthening ? Have we not need of
all the meana to atrengthen that faith, which we shall have all the need of
in the hour of death, to keep our souls from fainting under the stroke ? Is
it not a desirable thing to have the benefits of Christ often applied to us,
and our faith confirmed ? Is all our leanness removed, that we need no
more marrow and fatness ? Are we so provided for heaven, that we need
no more viaticum in our journey thither ? Who would come but seldom to
his stated meals ? He that would fast one day would scarce fast two, but
by force. We are yet in a journey, and we need strength to go forward ;
we are beset with diseases, and we need medicines to cure us ; we are often
faint, and we need cordials to revive us. Are our souls so fully established,
our affectiona so ready at our call, as not to need sensible objects sometimes
to raise them ? A vigorous fancy, helped by the sight of a picture, mounts
to a greater activity ; so doth a spiritual faith. Can you, then, too often
embrace the cross, drink down the blood of Christ, and put your hands into
his wounds ? Is your faith so hearty, that it needs no cordials ; your love
so hot, that it needs no breath for an higher flame ; your hopea so certain,
that they do not sometimes reel ; and your obedience so quick, that it needs
no spur ; and your standing so secure, that it needs no further aettlement ?
It ia certain, that aa we would have faith, we must attend upon converting
ordinances, ao if we would have strength of faith, we must frequent strength:
ening institutions. How would this Sun, shining upon our soula in hia own
orb, enrich us with his heat and light, suffer nothing to stand before it, and
put out all those lesser fires, those foolish desfres which aspire to other
things, and weaken the soul ? After the Israelites were circumcised, and
had eaten the pasaover, then did Christ, as captain of the Lord's boat, ap
pear to Joshua to encourage hia heart, and atrengthen his hands against those
enemies in Canaan, by which our spiritual enemies are represented, Joshua v.
7, 10, 14. It is by a frequent exercise of faith, according to the methods of
Christ, that believers would be as lions (as Chryaoatom saith) breathing fire
terrible to the devils themaelves. Have you not found your own experience,
or at leaat the experience of othera, bear witness to thia ? How often hath
the empty soul been filled, the palsy hand cured, the thirsty heart satisfied,
the feeble knees strengthened, a creeping love changed its pace, and a cloudy
soul been brightened ? The more believing at a sacrament, the more
vigorous is the faith afterwards. As in eating corporal food, by the assimi
lation of meat to our substance by the chemistry of nature, and converting

1 CoE. XI. 26.] THE END OP THE LOED'S SUPPEE. 417
it into blood and spirits, the body is strengthened ; so hy the feeding upon
Christ by faith, the soul is strengthened, and Christ becomes more and more
mystically incorporate in the believer, ' Chriat in them the hope of glory,'
John xvii. 23 ; I in them, and thou in me.'
(5.) Why will any true believer gratify Satan ? The motiona to hinder
those that are gracious, muat either be from God or Satan ; from God they
cannot be, who is no enemy to the ordinance he hath appointed for them.
It cannot be thought that God should decry his own institution, or call back
hia own inritation, or discourage a believer from the remembrance of his Son
in that ordinance, which hath been enjoined for that end. The Spirit in his
motions acts according to the word, not contrary to it. They must then be
from the devil, who is an enemy not to be listened to. He endeavours to
hinder the believer from the most spiritual dutiea, whereby he may gain the
greateat profit. He kindles our corruptions, shoots in his temptations, fiUs'
ua with scruples, exhorts ua to omit, defer anything to atave us off from that
which is the strengthening of our souls, and a weakening of his kingdom.
SwaUow not therefore this poison ; spit it out, lest you please the devil, and
displease the Redeemer. How will the devil triumph if he can keep you in
a constant omission of a known duty ! If the frequent attendance be a
means to strengthen grace, the neglects are a meana to weaken ; and the
deril rejoices in the decays of grace, next to preventing any grace at all.
He feeds himself with hopes that at last he may make such utterly in
sensible. (6.) Why should any believer deny to pay Christ the debt of thankfulness
for his great love, in that way which he hath appointed ? It is a thanks-
giring, a thankful remembrance, therefore anciently called the eucharist. It
is appointed as a feast to rejoice before God for the benefits we profess to
enjoy by the death of Christ ; aa the eating of the aacrifice offered to an
idol was a profession that all that they had came from the kindness and
powerful influence of that idol. Shall not our soula be filled with hosannas
for the greateat mercy that oan be beatowed upon us, viz. a redemption from
guilt, death, hell, and the wrath of God ? Shall we refuse a thankful accept
ance of that honour to sit at his table, and to sup with our prince ? Would
not that person be accounted ungrateful, that should dehght in the picking of
straws when his king calls him to his presence ?
1^0 conclude. Let the benefits of this ordinance persuade every believer to
a frequency in it. They must needs be great and desirable upon a worthy
and believing partaking, because the ain and danger are dreadful in an un
worthy approach. If indeed we have no enemies to conquer, no weakness
to strengthen, no sin to trouble us, no temptations to surround us, no damps
to smother our assurance, no ebbs in our gracea, no totterings in our faith,
no coohnga in our love, no emptineas to be filled, no doubts to be resolved ;
if we are in heaven, and are as angels in assumed bodiea, then we are lifted
above the end and intendment of it; but this is no man's case in the world.
It is a command, to neglect it therefore is to despise his authority ; it is for
our good, to neglect it therefore is to contemn his mercy ; his inatitntiona are
attended with promises, to neglect them is to deny his truth.
We have handled two doctrines from the words. There is one more yet
behind, concerning the duration of this ordinance ; from the laat clause, ' You
shew the Lord's death till he come.'
There is especially a twofold coming of Christ mentioned in Scripture.
1. His coming in the flesh; 2, his coming to judgment. Both mentioned
VOL. IV. D d

418 chabnock's woeks. [1 Coe. XI. 26.
Heb. ix. 28, ' Christ was once offered to bear the sina of many, and he shall
appear the second time without sin unto salvation.' The one was to bear
our sins, the other to glorify our souls ; the one to expiate our guilt, the
other to present ua to God without any filth ; the one to begin salvation,
the other to perfect it ; the one to seal the promises, the other to perform
them ; the one to put an end to the remembrance of sin, by substituting him
self as a sacrifice in the room of the legal ones, whereby there was a remem
brance of sin every year, the other to put an end to the fruit of sin, afflictions
and sufferings of hia people.
It ia not hia coming in the Spirit which is here meant ; this had not con
sisted with the interest of Chriat, the wisdom of Christ, or the end of the
sacrament. (1.) Not with the interest of Christ. Christ came in Spfrit after hia ascen
sion, at the time of the liberal effusion of the Holy Ghost upon the apostles.
Acts ii., which was his coming to them as he had promised : John xiv. 18, ' I
will not leave you comfortless, I will come unto you.' Would he ao solemnly
assemble the apostles at such a time, when that wrath, which he aaw march
ing out against him, called for the employment of all hia thoughts, and his
greatest care in the management of that work ? When it was come to that
issue, would he neglect his present interest and business to settle an ordi
nance so short-lived as the apace of fifty days, when moat of that time he
intended to comfort them by hia personal presence after hia reaurrection ?
It had not consisted with hia intereat at that time to employ himself about
that which should so suddenly expire.
(2.) Nor with the wisdom of Christ. To institute that so solemnly for his
remembrance, that should be of so little use. It was to remember him in
his absence all the time he should be in his Father's kingdom. A greater
absence than that of twelve days must be meant ; for he waa absent from
them only during the time of hia lying in the grave, and the time between
his ascenaion and the descent of the Spirit, if by coming here be meant his
coming in the effusion of the Spfrit : Acts i. 8, ' He was seen of them forty
days, speaking of the things pertaining to the kingdom of God' (it is likely
he was with one or other of them every day in that apace), which, it is pro
bable, were not to be put in execution till the coming of the Spirit, which
they were to wait for at Jerusalem, which was to endue them with power
from on high, Luke xxiv. 49, Aots i. 8. And though after the descent of
the Spirit, they ' continued in breaking of bread,' yet not before, but only
' in prayer and supplication' (Acts i. 14) for the power of the Holy Ghost,
which was to commission them. And would Christ take such care to have
a church before the faU of the Jewish church, and enable his apostles by his
Spirit in so miraculous a manner to settle his commands among those that
should believe in him ; and this, which is one of the greatest and most in
favour to the church, so lately instituted, and for the commemoration of the
fundamental benefit, to expire just after the promulgation of it ? That did
not cease at the coming of Christ in the Spirit, whioh we have no evidence
that it was put in practice from the time of the first institution till tbe coming
of the Spfrit. Did it consist with the wisdom of our Lord to give a com
mand which was never to be practised ?
(3.) Nor with the end of the supper. It was to be done in remembrance.
How could they in so short a time forget him, in whose hands and sides
they had seen the marks of the naUs and spear ? How could they forget
him whose death they had aeen, and whom they had enjoyed again by a
miraculous resurrection ? Beaides, the Spirit was come, and so this ordi
nance ceased before Paul writ to the Corinthians, and he who had been so

1 Coe. XI. 26.] the end of the lobd's suppeb. 419
vehement an opposer of an abrogated ceremonial law, would never have re
stored an abrogated institution.
Nor is this coming again to be understood of the Spirit's coming to a par
ticular person. Then,
(1.) As soon as overmen come to be fit for thia ordinance, they must waive
it. If the coming of Christ here spoken of be his coming in Spirit to a soul,
as soon aa ever he ia come in Spirit they ought not to observe it, because they
would break the command whioh is limited to such a time, the time of his
coming. The Spirit comea in tbe work of regeneration, in the work of faith.
To what purpose did Christ institute this, if the only subjects capable of it were
ipso facto deprived of it, when they were first in a capacity for it ? None
receives good from this ordinance but those that have faith. Indeed, men in
a crowd may press upon Christ and touch him, yet only that peraon that
touches his garments and takea the elements by faith, receives virtue from
him. What a madness it is to feed a dead man ; and if he should be reatored
to life to deprive him of the means and nourishment to preserve that life.
(2.) It would then be instituted only for the refuse of the world, for
such as had no mind to remember him, nor could remember him vrith any
affection to him or comfort to themselves, since they were alienated from
him by their unbelief. We cannot suppose that Christ, that night wherein
he was betrayed, should take care only of his enemies. He prayed for hia
disciples, not for the world ; he gives the supper to them, and in them, as the
foimdation of the church, to all that were to believe on him, not to the world.
It is the second coming of Christ to judgment that is here meant, when he
comes in perfect majesty to beatow a perfect glory ; when he shall come ' in
that manner as he was taken np into heaven,' Acts i. 11 ; when the re
membrance of his death shall be swallowed up in the vision of hia person,
and fruition of the ripe and complete fruit of his sufferinga. In the mean time
it ia a standing memorial of the sufferings of our Saviour.
The doctrine then is :
Doct. The Lord's Supper is a lasting and continuing institution, not to be
put down at the pleasure of any men. It will not be repealed till Christ
come. Another gospel is not to be expected. Gal. i. 6, 7, &c. ; and therefore
whUe the goapel endures, the appendixes, the institutions annexed to it, will
endure. The times of the gospel are called often in Scripture ' the last days ;'
no other dispensation is to supersede it, and the ordinances in it are im
moveable things, not to be shaken till Christ comes. He is not yet come, the
institutions therefore he transmitted to us by the apostles are still of use.
Nothing can put a period to them, but the coming of Christ, which no man
can say is yet accomplished. The ordinances of Christ are like the pillar
of ffre and the cloud which guided the Israelites in thefr joumey through the
wilderness, and did not withdraw from them till they entered into Canaan.
When the church shall be perfected, when Christ shall appear to put the
crown upon the head of the glorified church, and bring it into the promised
inheritance, the clouds of ordinances will vanish ; there wUl be no more need
of them, the ends of them wiU be completed ; there will be no weak grace
to need strengthening, nor any indwelling sin to need mortification. In the
reformation of the church, prophesied of in Rev. xxi. 3, ' The tabernacle of
God is with men, and he wUl dweU with them.' The ordinances are not to
be abolished ; while God hath a tabernacle among men, he will have a worship,
an instituted worship to help us in our natural worship. The tie of homage
the creature owes to God cannot be unloosed. If a worship, then some
modes and rites of worship. The tabernacle was the place of worship. This
cannot be meant of a state of glory in heaven, because, ver. 1., it is a ' new

420 chabnock's wobks. [1 Cob. XL 26.
Jerusalem which comes down from heaven,' a state distinguished from the
state of glory in heaven. In the time of the reformation of the church, which
is there promised, the Lamb ia said to be the light ofthe church : Rev. xxi. 23,
' The Lamb is the light thereof Christ is always called a lamb in aUusion
to the paschal lamb, and in that title, hia death as a sacrifice ia always in
cluded. If the lamb, as a aacrifice, be the light of the city in that glorious
state which the church doth expect in the fuU and thorough reformation, the
memoriala of him aa a lamb, and ao the memoriala of his death, wiU be pre
served tUl earth give place to heaven. And whereas it is said, ver. 22,
' There shall be no temple,' i.e. no human and legal ceremonies, but pure
ordinances. And ' the city had no need of the sun and of the moon to shine
in it.' Men shall not serve God according to the equinoxes and the course
of the moon, as the Jews had their passover about the vernal equinox in
March, and the observations of the new moon to shew to them the times of
worship.* There ahall be no earthly conatitutions, inventiona of man, any
thing that smells of the legal ceremonies, but God ahall be glorious in his
own inatitntiona, and the Lamb ahall be the XO^voc, the candle of it. The
simple institutions of Christ ahall be the light of the church. All those or
dinancea which signify to us the love of the Lamb, the death of the Lamb,
the benefita by that death, ahall be kept up in purity and rigour. In the
reformation of the church the ordinancea shall no more cease than they did
in the second temple, whioh was a reformed church after their captivity in
Babylon, and so reformed that they never ran again to idolatry. But the
ordinances of God continued in the temple till the coming of the Messiah to
tabernacle among men ; so in the reformation from the idolatries and cor
ruptions of antichrist, which will be, as it were, the erection of a aecond temple,
the ordinances shall continue till the coming of Christ to judgment. Christ
intimates tbe continuation of this ordinance in the church till the consum
mation of all things, and the investing his people with the glory he had pro
mised them, in his words after the institution of it : Mat. xxvi. 29, ' I -wiU
not drink henceforth of this fruit of the vine, till I drink it new with you in
my Father's kingdom,' which he speaks to ahew the nearness of his death,
and to comfort them under the apprehensions of it, assuring them they should
be with him in his Father's kingdom, partakers of his glory. It also implies
that no other institution was to intervene between that time and their
being with him in hia Father's kingdom. The communication of himself should
then be in a new manner. But till that time they must not expect any converse
with him but in those waya he had aettled. The nearer Chriat's coming is,
the more will his ordinances be in practice. When the Israelites were upon
entering into Canaan, circumcision and the passover were celebrated, which
had been omitted all the time of their wilderness condition.
1. All the ordinances of Christ are to continue in his church, then certainly
this. The institutiona of Christ in the gospel are said to be immoveable,
such as cannot be shaken : Heb. xii. 26, 27, ' He hath promised, saying. Yet
once more I shake not the earth only, but the heavens. And this word, yet
once more, signifies the remoring of things that are shaken, as of things that
are made, that those things whioh cannot be shaken may remain.' ' Yet once
more,' Hag. u. 6 ; for it is taken out of that place, the apostle following the
Septuagint translation. Once more, supposeth that that time being past, there
should be no more change of laws in the church. The old institutions under
the law are called rd eaXivo/Mva,, things that are shaken or fluctuating, un
certain. The evangelical institutions are opposed to those, as things that
cannot be shaken, ra /x-ii gaXiuSfisva. Once more, clearly intimates that the
* Grot, in loc.

1 Coe. XI. 26.] the end of the lobd's suppeb. 421
ordinances introduced by the Messiah should be unalterable, as long as the
scene of the world, heaven and earth, endures. He would change but one
time, not many. The new laws of the gospel will not be changed by God's
authority, but be left in the same state wherein they were established by the
Messiah, and not be subject to change, as the legal administration was. Tbe
order appointed by Moses was to be shaken, and give place to a better
administration ; but the order settled by the Son of God is to stand as firm
as a mountain of brass, as the foundations of the earth, or the arch of heaven.
If not shaken by God, no reaaon they should be shaken by man. The faith
is said to he ' once delivered to the saints,' Jude 3. Once, i.e. unalterably
the doctrine of faith is delivered ; as God is said ' Once to swear by his holi
ness,' Ps. Ixxxix. 36 ; once for all, never to be altered. The doctrine of
faith, and institutions of the gospel, are monuments of God's grace, not to be
demolished or defaced till God puts a period to the world, and wraps up the
persons of all his elect in the bosom of Christ. It is his injunction to his
apostles, when he commissioned them to teach men to observe all thinga
that he had commanded them ; and he promiseth his presence with them in
so doing to the end of the world : Mat. xxviii. 20, ' Teaching them to observe
all things whatsoever I have commanded you ; and lo I am with you always,
even unto the end of the world.' The things Chriat hath commanded, are
then to be observed till the end of the world, for he promises hia pre
sence with them to the end of the world in the teaching of those things.
The things therefore that Christ hath commanded must be taught. If they
be not, no men can have any comfortable hopes of the presence of Christ
with them. If Christ will have a ministry to the end of the world, he wUl
have a church to the end of the world ; if a church, which is the seat of
ordinances, then ordinances to the end of the world ; if ministers, who are
the ' stewards of the mysteries of God,' then mysteries there are to be dis
pensed to the end of the world. Observe the universality of the subject
twice repeated, all things, and whatsoever I have commanded you. Everything
that Christ hath commanded must be taught ; everything therefore that
Christ hath commanded must endure. Observe also, that the extent of the
duration is repeated twice too, always, even to the end of the world ; it in
cludes also the extent of the duration of the things commanded, because his
presence is promiaed to them in the teaching of whatsoever he commanded.
The ordinances therefore of Christ are to be perpetually observed. And
they are those evangelical dispensations which are here commanded to be
taught and observed, because they are those which Christ, as mediator, hath
appointed, ' which I have commanded,' I that have power given me in
heaven and earth, for that is the ground of this command : Mat. xxviii. 18,
' All power is given unto me in heaven and in earth ; go ye therefore and
teach all nations.' And lest any should take upon them to determine the
time of their continuance, because the first word, always, is trdaag rae
J5,u,%as-, he explains what he meant by it, and adds, ' even to the end of the
world.' So that it is not meant to the end of the Jewish state, but the end
of the frame of heaven and earth. The presence of Christ in the way of his
ordinances is here promised. Christ wiU be present with them after the end
of the world, but in another manner of presence than now ; a special pre
sence here in the weakness of ordinances, a glorious presence hereafter in
the fulness of vision. Observe also, if ministers cannot promise themselves
the presence of Christ, but in teaching aU things whatsoever Christ hath
commanded, other men cannot promise themselves the presence of Christ
with them, but in observing all things whatsoever Christ hath commanded ;
and this institution is one of those all things. And since the apostles did

422 chabnock's wobks. [1 Coe. XI. 26.
not live to the end of the world, thia promise looks further than the persons
of the apostles ; it looks to the church which they ahould aettle in such
order as he had appointed, founded upon such doctrine, and observing such
institutiona, according to his command ; he would be with that church that
should obaerve their doctrine, and preserve it successively to the end of the
world. As in hia prayer, John xvh. 20, he did not only pray for the apostles
then with him, ao he doth not promiae this only to the apostles then with
him, but to the church. All the inatitutions aettled in the Jewish church
are often said to be ordinances for ever, i.e. during that dispensation, till
God should give them their passport and send them away. But the gospel
ordinances are to be in force tiU the conclusion of all things in the world.
2. Sacraments were thought by God needful for men in all their several
states in the world. Sacraments were judged necessary by God in innocent
nature. The tree of life had a sacramental signification of life upon Adam's
obedience. Much more in lapsed nature have we need of those sensible
things for the support of our faith in the promises of God. After the fall
there were various institutiona brought in by degrees. Adam, and Abel,
and Noah, had their sacrifices aa significant of the Messiah promised to
them, and expected by them. Abraham had an addition of circumcision.
The passover and other rites were added under Mosea. The Messiah takes
away them and introduceth others which are to continue, since they are the
laat daya wherein God hath spoken to us by his Son, Heb. i. 1, and are not
to be thrust out by any other dispensation. Not but these sacraments under
the gospel are changeable in their own nature, if it seem agreeable to the
good pleasure of God. For there is a difference between natural laws and
positive laws ; * natural laws do not proceed merely from the will of the
lawgiver, positive do. Those things which are evU in their own nature, are
not evil because they are prohibited by the will of God, but because they
are contrary to a rational creature as rational ; so that God cannot dispense
with them, for then he would dispense with evil as evil, and so would deny
his own righteousness, if he should allow that which ia unjust in ita own
nature. But for positive laws, which are not innate-in nature or grace, but
proceed from the wUl and authority of God solely, they may be changed by
the will of the lawgiver. So the ceremonial law was changed, because it
was neither good nor evil in itself, but had its authority solely from the wUl
of God. But the moral law cannot be changed, because the duties it en
joins are naturally good in themselves, and the things it prohibits are evil in
themselves ; and this God cannot dispense with, for then he should call
good evU, and evil good. But God hath declared he will never change these.
The end of all ordinances waa to bring the worshippers to real holiness,
which is the perfection of the soul ; in innocency, to preserve men in it ; in
lapsed nature, to discover the necessity of it, and the way to it ; and there
fore they must be observed under every dispensation, for that end for which
they were instituted. Now if these rudiments, proportioned to the Jewish
infancy, were not to be riolated by them under the severe penalty of the
soul's being cut off frpm among the people (which the Jews understand of a
cutting off by the hand of God), sure the more noble institutions of the
gospel, settled by the Redeemer, being clearer representations of the love he
hath shewn to us, and the benefits we may expect from him, atand more
stable, and are big with greater motives to persuade men to the use of them,
than those under the law, which were grievous in regard of their multitude
and chargeableness, and obscure in regard of the distance of the thing sig
nified by them. They may seem to have had more reason to despise the
* Rivet, in Genes. Exeroit. xiii. p. 54.

1 COE. XI. 26.1 THE END OP THE LOBd's SUPPEE. 423
institutions in those several ages, than we to slight the evangelical ordi
nances, since they are dignified by the more exceUent dispensation they are
annexed unto. And God always had some conduit-pipes, through which to
pour out the blessings of his grace upon the souls of his creatures.
3. All laws once settled are of force till they be repealed by that authority
which did enact them. Christ, as Lord of the church, hath power to appoint
institutions, and none but he hath power to remove them, and even he hath
not power to remove them by any act but by that of his coming. Christ
hath settled this till he comes ; since his word is past, nothing but his coming
can repeal it. Hia command is therefore in force, and ought to be observed,
and it is in force till he comes ; so that if an angel from heaven should bring
us word of a repeal, we ought not to believe him, because Christ is not
come, to which period of time it is to endure. Had it not been a high pre
sumption for any to abolish the ceremonial law among the Jews, till the
promised seed was come, which was the period of its duration ? Gal. iii. 19.
And is it not as high a presumption to look upon gospel inatitutions as null,
before the time appointed for the coming of Chriat, to put an end to thia
scene of thinga, be fulfilled ? But doth not every man who looks upon this,
or any other ordinance, as out of date, assume the power of abrogating, aa
much aa in him hes, the laws of Christ. It is the obedience we owe our
Lord not to entrench upon his prerogative in the abrogation of his laws, any
more than to uaurp the authority of enacting any. It ia enough it is his
law, and while it is so we ought to observe it, till he gives us a dismiss by
giring that a repeal. AU ordinancea have their aanction and establishment
from Christ'a authority. The first patriarchs, Adam and Noah, lived with
out circumcision, Abraham without the lawa of Mosea. But had God com
manded the one to be circumciaed, aa he commanded Abraham and hia
posterity, and enjoined the other to observe the legal institutions, was his
authority to be slighted ? Had they not been as much bound to use them
as the Israelites were ? God never gave power to any man to change hia
ordinances, or to dispense with them. The passover continued tUl God
superseded it by another inatitution ; circumciaion till God changed it into
a more easy. The supper on earth must hold, by Christ's authority, till it
be changed into the marriage supper of the Lamb, and never-fading delights
in heaven ; it must hold till earth be left for heaven, elements for subatance
and the person they represent. Who can upon a better account challenge
an exemption from the observance of positive institutions than our Sariour,
who had no need of them ? Yet how observant was he of them, because
they were estabhahed by divine authority. So that he caUs his submitting
to be baptized of John a ' fulfiUing of righteousness,' Mat. iii. 15. If there
fore we do acknowledge that Christ is come, and that he will come again,
and behevingly look for this coming of Christ, we ought to acknowledge it
by such testimonies as he hath appointed.
4. The covenant is perpetual, and therefore the seals are perpetual.* The
covenant, indeed, God made with Abraham and the Israelites, waa the same
covenant, and perpetual in regard of the aubstance of it ; for God promised
to be their God, and that they should be his people, and to give them eternal
life, whereof Canaan was a type. But becauae the Mediator, in -whom this
covenant had its confirmation, was not yet exhibited, therefore it was not
yet perpetual in regard of the accessories, and those uistitutions which were
appointed for the confirmation of their faith in it ; as the priesthood, sacri
fices, and sacraments, whioh could not remain, but must be abolished at the
coming of the Mediator, the band of the covenant. The rites belonging to
* Zanch. in Hos. ii. 9, pp. 44-36.

424 chabnock's wobks. [1 Coe. XI. 26.
that were but ' shadows of thfrigs to come ; ' and ^l^^'^ Christ, whom tt^
shadowed, came, the shadowa must necessarily pass ^^^y- ^^J^ ' tZd feU
be inatituted in the room of them. When the t"?^"^^''^^ P^f/J^^lJ^ ^
thefr sacraments feU with it ; and the priesthood being ;l^^^g^J' ^^^/^^^^
changed alao. But Chriat, being ' a priest for ever after the ^d^'' °f^^^^^^^
chizedec,"hath an unchangeable Priesthood,' Heb. vu. 24 And theref^e
the seal and laws belonging to that pr^sthood are ^^^^^S^JJ^^'^"
contmue to the end of the world. In the supper God do'liJ.ita^ss "la^he
doth give us the fiesh of Christ, and blood of Christ, and unite us to him,
and incorporate us with him : and on our parts, by the -^^-S j^^hem ^we
witneaa our embracing God's favour, and retum to ^^^.'J.'^^Vo him toT;
and obedience to his law. Since there la no more e^l^'^i^^^^.f .'^^ ° ^n
expected in order to etemal life, but God hath summed "P ^H ^^s ^U ^O
c£ist, settled him an everiasting priest, these seals ^> 1 endu^^i second
there is any exercise of that office of priest, which wiU be tiU 1"S second
commg ; wherein aU his elect shaU be perfected and no more need of sa n-
fice or interceasion. If it were a type of ^-^^^thmg to come when the jb-
atance ia come the shadow should be done away; but it/s a memorial ot
what is past, and no other administration is to succeed in theroom of
Christ, and therefore it is to be continued tiU his coming, and resigmng aU
^" 5!'The state wherein we are requires the continuance of it, and of other
"aTln regard of our constant decays. Our bodiea ^ould -^oilder to dust
were they not daUy nourished; and is there not as much need of nourish-
ment forLr souls ? Our souls need such institutions, as well as our b die
need food. A man may expect as well to grow without food or that h^
vine should bring forth fruit without sun, and ram f^f dressing as that
while he ia in the worid he should thrive m grace, that doth not take m he
fructifying showers of Christ. Our sin is atrugghng, and needs somefting
to conquer it; our faith is staggering, and needs something ^ confirm it
the sin that clogs us must be removed; the grace that bums dim must be
brightened. We need pardon, here we may behold it sealed; we need
strfiter union to Cbristfhere it is promoted. The conjunction between
Christ and a believing soul is as close as between us and the bread we eat
the wine we drink. There is need, whUe we are m tbe wilderness of this
worid, to be fed with manna; when Cannan is possessed, this wiU cease.
We have a joumey to go, a battle to fight. Is it not necessary we should,
with Jonathan, take some honey by the way to recruit our spirits ? God
always conveyed his grace by some pipes, and these he hath appomted m
the times of the gospel. .%. u *„„«„
(2 ) In respect of our weakness. Some intercourse there must be between
God and us, if we be happy. Immediately we cannot have it ; such com
munications are reserved for heaven: these are shadows fitted to the weak
nesses and dimness of our sense. We could not look steadily upon Christ a
glorified body ; but we may behold him in a sacrament as m a glass without
twinkling. The object is not primarily and immediately presented to our
eye ; but by the mediation of a glass, we have some broken beams, some
glances of his presence. And in those shadows we may aee Christ crucifaed
before our eyes, embrace him in our arms, and carry him in our hearts.
Our state must be changed from earth to heaven before sacraments can well
be abolished. If the sacraments be necessary as seals to confirm the trutn
of the covenant to us, as pledges of Christ's love and his conductmg presence,
and as instruments to convey strength, rigour, and aU the blessings ot tne-

1 Coe. XI. 26.] the end of the lobd's suppeb. 425
covenant to the heart, they are therefore needful till the doubting and stag-
gerings of the soul be removed by fuU vision, and till we are got to the top
of the mount of blessing.
Use 1. Chriat will always have a church in the world. A church is the
seat of ordinances. Privileges conferred by charter suppose a corporation.
If Christ hath left a atanding legacy, there shall be some persons in the
world to whom it shall be paid. It is his royal prerogative to appoint them.
He will not be a titular king, without a kingdom, without subjects. Christ
wUl maintain his interest. And since he hath estabhshed hia ordinances till
he come, he will have a generation to aerve him in the obaervance of them
till he come. The church and ordinancea cannot constantly be separated,
though for a time they may, as the Israelites had not circumcision in the
wUderness, and the passover also was omitted, but renewed by them before
their entrance into Canaan. Yet it will not follow from hence that ordinances
must alwaya continue with us. They may be taken from a particular church,
though not from the catholic church. God may have a church in the world,
when he hath it not in this or that particular nation. Our day may be
turned into a black night. Our manna may not always faU. God sometimes
takes away his ordinances from a people to pull down the house, and ' pluck
a people up by the roots,' 2 Chron. vii. 20. Sometimes he takes away his
influences from them. Urim and Thummim may continue, but he will not
answer Saul by them ; the house may atand, but darkness may fill it when
the glory of God departs : though there be a temple and sacrifices, yet but
husks of ordinances only.
2. It is in no man's power to add to, or detract from, Christ's institutions.
Not a pin in the temple he will have altered till he gives order. God is a
jealous God, and careful of his sovereignty. It is not for any inferior per
son to alter the stamp and impression the prince commands. None can coin
ordinances but Christ, and till he call them in, they ought to be current
among us.
3. See Christ's love and bounty. Chriat would not leave hia people
without a durable legacy. As Chriat prayed for all that were to believe, so
he provides for them. The apostles were not only to have the benefit, but
all. He spreads a standing table for his people before he enters into hia
purchaaed glory, proridea to feed them till he comea to take them home to
himself He entruated it not to others, leaves it not to the apostles to
appoint what they pleaaed ; but writes the bill of fare himself, and directs
what dishes we were to feed on till his return.
4. This ordinance must not be contemned. The passover was to be
observed, much more the supper settled by Christ. It is to continue till his
second coming. Is Christ yet come ? Doth not the creation yet groan
under vanity, doth not the heaven and the earth look with their old aspect ?
Have they yet put on new apparel ? Doth not the sun run its ancient
courae ? Are there yet the nearest signs of his second coming ? Then no
signs of the cessation of hia institutiona. AU commanda must be kept till
the appearing of Jesua Christ, 1 Tim. vi. 14. Certainly then thia that ia so
nobly circumstantiated, let not any man think himself above it npon a con
ceit of a greater measure of the Spirit. It is an impiety to pretend the
Spirit of Christ oan overthrow the inatitutions of Christ, which are to have
the same duration in the world with the influence of the Spirit ; to pretend
that Spirit, whose office it is to bring the things of Christ to remembrance,
to overthrow a grand memorial of him, contrary to the deaign of hia mission ;
this is to set Christ and his Spirit at variance. To ' despise prophesyings '
is to ' quench the Spirit,' 1 Thess. v. 19, 20. WiU not the despising a great

426 chabnock's woeks. [1 Cob. XI. 26.
ordinance of Christ be attended with the aame dreadful effect ? The Spirit
doth not do aU thinga in us without meana, but directa us how to uae the
means, as he did Solomon to build the house.* He that contemns it, after
so poaitive a command of remembering him this way till he comea, regards
little Christ'a authority, and presumes himself vriser than Christ ; as if he
could have given him directions how to have settled his church in a better
method. Is it not a great ingratitude to God to despise what he commands
as a privilege ? Were not the apostles men of an extraordinary measure of
the Spirit, because of their extraordinary employments ? and did they not
exercise themselves in the institutions of Christ ? How have many pro
ceeded from the slighting of Christ's institutions to the denying the authority
of his word ; a slighting Christ himself crucifled at Jerusalem, to set up an
imaginary Christ within them !
5. It ia a standing ordinance till he come, no longer. The happiness of
believers ia great in attendance on the institutiona of Chriat, but greater
afterwards. It is then there will be a full sight of that which ia now in
dark resemblances. It is then believera ahall see the original copy of this
picture. It is but tiU he come ; he wiU not always have his people subject
to ordinances, or show himaelf in a glaaa, but face to face. Then must this
deputed light give place tP a greater ; then must theae shadows Hy away
when tbe sun appears. It is a privilege to sit with him at hia table here,
but a greater to drink of the fruit of the rine new with him in the kingdom
of his Father. * Holinsworth of the Spirit, p. 42.

A DISCOURSE OF THE SUBJECTS OF THE
LORD'S SUPPER.

But let a man examine himself, and so let him eat of that bread, and drink of
that cup. For he that eats and drinks unworthily, eateth and drinketh dam
nation to himself, not discerning the Lord's body. — 1 Cos. XI. 28, 29.
Having discoursed of ver. 26, I now proceed to those which I have read.
The substance of ver. 27, wUl come in in handhng ver. 29, where the apostle
mentions the greatness of the punishment of unworthy receiring ; as vera. 26,
27, he had spoken of the greatness of the sin. Something we insisted on
the last day, in the discovery of the sinfulness of unbeUef, and more will
upon the same subject be coincident with what might be spoken in this case.
The apostle here exhorts the Corinthiana to a worthy participation of that
great ordinance of the Lord's Supper, and (1) lays down the rule of self-
examination, before their approach, that they might not contract so great a
guilt as that of the body and blood of Christ. But if he would not be
guilty of the body and blood of Christ, ' let him examine himself (2.) The
manner of participation : ' So let him eat, and so let him drink.' (8.) He
backs and enforceth it with a reason : ' For he that eats and drinks un
worthily, eats and drinks his own damnation.' A great danger is incurred
by the neglect of this manner ef proceeding.
Let a man, oSv^gwTros, 'saurov. An Hebraism for every man.* The apoatle
speaks it, saith Grotius, in regard of the disorders which were in the Corin
thian church, in matter of discipline. Do not believe, because no censures
are passed upon you, and the foundations of government are razed up in your
church, that therefore you shall escape punishment for the contempt of those
mysteries. No, God requires a worthy receiving, and will puniah an un
worthy one. So that it is an univeraal duty upon every Christian that desfres
to approach the Lord'a table, to aet upon a serious examination of his heart
and life, whioh the excellency of the mystery in its own nature requires ; an
excellent ordinance requires a peculiar preparation : every man, not every
man in the world, but every man in the church ; not every heathen, but
every man that pretends a right to the supper.
Examine himself, doxi//,a^sTu. Some understand the word of an artificial
examination, as goldsmiths try metals by the touchstone, to discern between
* Estius.

428 chabnock's wobks. [1 Cob. XI. 28, 29.
what is true gold and sUver, and what is counterfeit ; but it is rather to be
understood of a judicial trial, a trial of matter of fact, a trial of state, a trial
of graces. 1. A trial of grace, whether it be inherent or no. It is a shewing the
death of Christ; there must be therefore a search whether those graces which
suit the death of Christ, and answer to the ends of it, be in the subject, as
repentance, faith, love to God and to our neighbour ; whether there be, not
a legal, bflt evangehcal worthiness, and a suitableness between the master of
the feaat and the guest ; whether the heart and hfe agree with the precepts
of Christ ; what stamp of the Spirit upon the soul and conversation.
2. A trial of the atate wherein those gracea are. Since the supper is not
worthily received, but by an exercise of repentance, faith, and love, it is
necessary to inquire into the state of those graces, and thefr vigour or languor
in the soul, that they may be excited to manifest themselves in a suitable
carriage to the maater of the feast, and the grandeur of the ordinance we
are to attend upon.
By this are excluded from this -ordinance,
1. All persons incapable of performing this antecedent duty. Either in
regard of natural inability, as children, infants, who though anciently in the
time of Austin, were admitted to this ordinance, yet against the rule of the
apostle, because by reason of the imperfection of their age, they were not
capable of performing thia necessary duty which was to precede. As
children are not the subjects recipient of the supper, becauae they are not
risen to a suitable degree of understanding, so neither are madmen, because
they have lost that understanding they had, and the great mysteries of
religion must not be exposed to contempt. And in regard of a negligent
inability, as ignorant persons who neglect the means of knowledge, or im
prove them not to furnish themselves with a sufficient stock of knowledge to
this end, so a man grown in age may be a child in understanding, and upon
the same account is as incapable aa a child of thia ordinance ; men, there
fore, are rmfit to come without a distinct knowledge of the doctrine of the gospel. '
2. All persons who cannot find upon examination anything of a divine
stamp upon them in the lowest degree. Such are all unrenewed men, who
have not one bruise in their souls, not one breath of smoke and gracious
desire towards Christ in their hearts, and consequently all scandalous persons
in life, who are as uncapable, by their spiritual madneSs and contracted vicious
habits, as men that are mad naturally, by a distemper of their brain. This
trial is for the finding fit qualifications for this ordinance, tI 8oxi/j,ov, aome
thing sound and worthy, which such persons cannot upon examination find.
This command of self-examination evidenceth to us,
1. That a Christian may come to the knowledge of his atate in grace;
otherwise it would be wholly fruitless to examine ourselvea. If we may know
by the want of aaving conditiona that we are in a state of nature ; we may
know by the presence of them, that we are in a state of grace.
2. No necessity of auricular confession ; to tell all the secrets of the life
to a priest.
So let a man eat of this bread, and drink of this cup. So, not otherwise;
it is a hedge planted against every intrusion. So, not without examination,
and a]^ fitness upon it. It is not an ordinance appointed for every man ;
there is a manifest distinction between persons capable of the word, and
capable of the supper. Preaching is to be to every creature, every rational
creature, Mark xvi. 15, 16. Unbelievers are capable of the word, behevers
only ^ of the supper. The one is to bring men into the family, the other to
nourish them aifter their entrance. If any man find himself in a state of

1 Cob. XI. 28, 29.] the subjects op the lobd's suppeb. 429
death, let him repent, believe, resolve a new and serious life, and so let him
come, not elae ; for without those he can receive no fruit of spiritual grace
in this ordinance.
So let him eat, so let him drink. The apostle* here obriatea an error
crept into the Romish church, the taking away the cup, a custom unknown
in the purest and primitive times of Chriatianity. ' Let him eat and drink,'
saith the apostle ; ' Let him eat, but not drink,' saith the church of Rome.
How soundly doth the Romish church accord with the primitive church !
' Drink ye all of this,' saith Christ, Matt. -xxvi. 27 ; ' Let the people not
touch the cup,' saith Rome. How valid with them is the authority of that
Christ they profess to be the Son of God, and the supreme head of the
church ! The apostle, saith Estiua, commanda that none should partake
vrithout examination, but doth not command that every one ahould drink.
I anawer, either it ia a command or a permission ; it seems to be a command.
As the apostle commands the self- trial, so he commands the end of that trial,
which is drinking the cup as well as eating the bread. If he commands the
trial, he commands much more the participation, because in enjoining the
means, he enjoins the end. We are bound to the use of means only in order
to the end of those means. If the apostle commands the eating the bread,
he commands alao the partaking of the cup, the word so, &c., being grammati-
caUy to be applied to both. It would be ridiculous to think that the apostle's
language was in this strain : Let a man examine himaelf, and if he finds
himaelf fit for thia mystery, let him choose whether he will either eat or drink ;
he may do one or both if he vrill, or he may let it alone if he will. Who
would dare to put such a aense upon the apostle's words ? If let be a word
of command in the former sentence, it is no less in the latter. If therefore,
he commands examination as a means, he commands communion as the end ;
and communion much more, since the end is nobler than the means, and
the means deairable for the sake of the end. But if it be a permission of the
apostle, (for that it must be at least in the judgment of any man), that every
one finding himself fit upon a trial, may drink of the cup as well as eat of
the bread ; what power on earth should deny that, which the inspired apostle
and great doctor of the Gentiles permits ? What pope or councils have
authority to deprive any Chriatian of that which the founder of the Gentile
church hath upon record allowed unto them ? What reason oan be alleged
that it is not aa proper for the church now, as it was for the church of the
Corinthians ? It was of use many centuries after the apoatles' timea, and is
practised in all churches but that of Rome, wherein the denial of the cup
was introduced about two hundred sixty odd years ago. What a blessing do
we enjoy, to be freed from the antichristian yoke, and enjoy those pririleges
which the wickedness of men would deprive us of !
Bread and Cvp. The doctrine of transubstantiation was not then known
in the church.* The apostle calls it bread and cup three aeveral timea,
vera; 26-28. Our reason, our sense, our sight, our taste, informs ua it is
bread and wine. The papists tell us, against reaaon and aenae, that it is
not bread, though it have the colour and taate of bread, but it is really the
flesh and blood of Christ ; it is changed and transmuted into his body and
blood. It is indeed a sign of the body of Christ, a memorial of his broken,
crucifled body, and of his blood shed. The water in baptism repreaents the
blood of Christ for the washing the soul, aa the wine doth his blood for the
nourishment and comforting the aoul. Can any man say against hia sense
that it is not truly water ? The church is called ' the body of Christ,' Eph.
* Daill6, Melange des Sermons, Serm, xviii. p. 287, &o.
t Daille, Melange des Sermons, Serm. xxviii. p, 283, &o.

430 chabnock's woeks. [1 Cob. XI. 28, 29.
i. 22, 23. But have not those men and women that make up the church,
distinct peraons from the person of Chriat, diatinct substances from the
body of Christ? Are they upon their union to Christ as his members
changed into the nature of Christ, and corporally his members, as his
hands, and feet, and fingers were his upon the earth, and are his now in
heaven ? Why should the apostle call it so often bread, if it were not
bread, if the nature and substance of it were changed into another sub
stance ? The Scripture gives both the names of bread and wine, and the
body and blood of Christ, to the elements. They cannot be both properly ;
it cannot be bread properly, and the body of Christ properly ; one there
fore must be figuratively understood. Our sense tells ua, and the apostle
informs us, that it ia bread ; therefore it is called the body of Christ by a
figure, since it hath nothing of the qualities of the flesh, but the essential
qualities of bread. Besides, had it been properly the body of Christ, the
apostle had discoursed far below his intention, which was to correct the
irreverence of the Corinthians in this ordinance, and to recommend to them
the sober and venerable use of it. He had neglected the main argument to
enforce his main design, had it been properly the body of Christ, which
would have made their irreverence more unreasonable, and of the highest
guilt imaginable. He had been imprudent to have neglected acquainting
them that this was the substance of the body of Christ, hia very flesh and
blood, and had been unfaithful in his trust, and silent in the most consider
able argument. This had been more for his present purpose ; but there is
not a syllable of any such thing.* The apostle might have argued in a
higher manner from that, to convince them of the sinfulness of unworthy
receiving ; but he makes a manifest distinction between the bread and the
cup, and between the body and blood of Christ : ' He that eats this bread
and drinks this cup of the Lord unworthily, shall be guilty of the body and
blood of the Lord.' The bread and wine may be received unworthily, but
the body and blood of Christ cannot be received unworthily. That implies
a contradiction ; for Christ assures ua that ' every one that eats his flesh,
and drinks his blood, hath etemal life,' John vi. 54. The papiata say,f
that because he that receives unworthily is guilty of the body and blood of
Christ, therefore the body and blood of Christ is really in the sacrament.
Saul's persecuting the disciples of Christ was, in the account of Christ, a
persecuting of himself. Acts ix. 4. Waa the body of Christ, glorified in
heaven, really present in the bodies of his disciples persecuted by Saul ?
And when the apostle speaks (Heb. x 29) of ' treading under foot the Son
of God,' who is so foolish as to imagine that the Son of God was really in
his person and body under the feet of those apostates, as the body of an
enemy they had thrown down might be under their feet? The bread is
called the body of Christ representatively and sacramentally. And it is an
ingenious observation of a learned man,| that the word, ' This is my body,'
refers to the supper in distinction from the passover, which Christ put an
honourable end unto : Matt. xxvi. 26, ' As they were eating' (i. e., as they
were eating the paschal lamb), ' Jesus took bread, and blessed it, and brake
it, and gave it to his disciples, and said, Take eat, thia is my body.' The
paschal lamb was Christ's body in a figure, Exod. xii. 46. Speaking of the
paachal lamb, ' Neither shall you break a bone thereof,' which is applied to
Christ, who had not a bone of his body broken upon the cross, which John
takes notice of as a ' fulfilling of the scripture,' John xix. 36. ' These
» Slichting in 1 Cor. xi, 27.
"t Daill6, Melange des Sermons, Sermon xxviii. p. 297.
j Liglitfoot, Gleanings out of Exod. sect, xviii.

1 Cob. XI. 28, 29.] the subjects of the lobd's suppeb. 431
things were done that the scripture should be fulfilled, A bone of him shaU
not be broken ; ' which can refer to no other but the command about the
paschal lamb in tha.t place of Exodus. To this it is that the word rovro
doth refer in the speech of our Saviour : ' This is my body.' The passover
had been a sacramental type of the body of Christ to the Jews. He was
the Lamb of God, and he is ' our passover sacrificed for us.' But now
Christ takes bread, and tells them. This is my body under the gospel. The
paachal lamb shall no more be a representation of my body, as it hath been
hitherto, but this shall be the sign of it. The bread upon this account is
no more really the body of Christ than the paschal lamb was the body of
Christ for so many ages, wherein it had represented it, which none of the
Romanista will acknowledge to be transubstantiated into the body of Christ.
They differed not in their representation, but only in the circumstance of
time ; one representing Christ to be slain, the other representing him craci
fied and slain already.
In ver. 29 the apostle describes the punishment, as he had (ver. 27)
described the sin : ' For he that eata and drinks unworthily, eata and drinks
damnation to himself, not discerning the Lord's body.'
He that eats and drinks unworthily. (1.) In an unworthy state. (2.) In
an unworthy frame, not actually discerning the Lord's body.
Eateth and drinketh damnation to himself. Kg^a signifies sometimes
judgment, Gal. v. 10, 1 Pet. iv. 17. Unworthy receiving is such an act as
deaerves damnation, and if not repented of will bring damnation. The
state may be changed, and so damnation avoided ; but behevers themselves,
for their unworthy frames, ahaU not avoid the stroke of God, which the
next verse manifests, ver. 30 : ' For this cause many are weak and sickly
among you, and many sleep.'
Not discerning the Lord's body. Not discerning the end, subject, and
mystery of this sacrament ; putting no difference between that and common
bread. There ia putting a difference between thinga, in regard of opinion
and judgment.* As God is said to put no difference between the Jews and
Gentiles, in regard of purification by faith, Acts xv. 9 : ' And put no differ
ence between us and them, purifying their hearts by faith ; ' so men put no
difference between the body of Christ and the body of a mere man, between
bread as representing the body of Christ, and bread, the ordinary staff of
life, when they make no solemner preparation for it than they do for an
ordinary repast. When a man doth not regard the person and merit of
Chriat according to the true value of him, and comea to the Lord's table as
to common bread,t and considers not to what end the elements are des
tined, nor the greatness and glory of that body which they represent, he
violates in those signs the honour due to the majesty of Christ. If a man
did rightly understand the dignity of the body of Christ, and how much it
suffered for our sins, and that we should die to sin, he would certainly pre
pare himself by a strict survey of his own heart, that he might not come
unworthily to so great a mystery.
In the verses we see,
1. The antecedent duty, examination.
2. The subsequent duty, participation.
1. The antecedent duty, which ia laid down,
(1.) In the extent of the subject, A man, i.e., every man.
(2.) The nature of the duty, Examine.
(3.) The object of it, Himself.
(4.) The necessity of it, So let him come, not else.
* Daillfi, Melange des Sermons, Sermon xxviii. t Amyraut in loc.

482 ohaenock's woeks. [1 Coe. XI. 28, 29.
2. The subsequent duty described in its two parts.
(1.) Eating the bread.
(2.) Drinking the cup.
3. The enforcement to this duty, ver. 29.
(1.) The danger of unworthinesa. Eats and drinks damnation.
(2.) The nature of unworthiness. Not discerning the Lord's body.
(3.) To which we may add, The sinfulness of unworthiness: ver. 27, He
that eats and drinks unumrthily, is guilty of the body and blood of the Lord.
To which the particle but (ver. 28) refers, as the means to avoid that sin
fulness : ' But let a man examine himself
Doctrine :
1. All men outwardly professing Chriatianity are not in a capacity to
come to the great ordinance of the supper. The apostle writes not to the
heathen, but the Chriatian Corinthiana.
2. It is every man's duty solemnly to examine himself about his interest
in Christ, and his right to thia ordinance, before he come.
8. Without due examination, and by unworthy receiving, a man commits
a great ain, and incurs a great danger.
1. For the first. All men outwardly professing Christianity are not in a
capacity to come to the great ordinance of the supper. If all men were
capable, pre-examination were not then necessary. But because thia duty
is enjoined as a precedent, therefore those that cannot examine themselves,
and those that find no good iaaue of that examination, ought not to come ;
for the word ' so ' excludes all such. Christ preached to a multitude, he
excluded none from" hearing, no not the worst of the Pharisees. But this
ordinance he administered in a select company ; he preached openly, he
celebrated this privately in an upper room, whence the custom of celebrating
in the chancel or upper part of the church, not in the body of it, took its
rise. The word is more extensive, this more contracted. 'There were mul
titudes in the Jewish church owned him aa the Messiah ; but not all were
admitted by him at this his first institution, but the apostles, and perhaps
some few other disciples. For though he said to ' sit down with the twelve,'
Mat. xxvi. 20, yet (ver 26) he is said to ' give it his diaciples.' If there
were only apostles there, it signifies that he gave it to them, not as apostles,
but as disciples, to shew thereby that all those that give up themselves
sincerely to hia instruction are capable of thia ordinance in all ages of the
church, and that it is not common to all that only make a mere profession
of him. Anciently the catechumens, or persona entering their namea to
Christ to be instructed, stood a long time upon their probation before they
were admitted into the more secret mysteries of the Christian religion,
whether with good reason, I vrill not here determine ; superstition lies prin
cipally in excess.
In prosecution of this doctrine, we shall lay down some propositions.
1. Only regenerate men are fit to come to the Lord's Supper. No man
in a natural state but must needs eat and drink unworthily, for he retains
his enmity and hostile disposition against God and Christ. Sanctified per
sons only are the proper guests. This was prefigured by the ceremony of wash
ing the disciples' feet, which Christ used before the supper, John xiii. 8, 10.
Without sanctification we have no part in Christ, and therefore no right to
his supper. An unregenerate man cannot perform the duties necessary,
drag out his sins, arraign them before God, mourn for his abominations, vrith
a hearty contrition. By examination in the text, we muat not understand a
bare examination, but that which ought to be the consequent upon it, a
judging ourselvea, and performing thoae acta consonant to the state we judge

1 CoE. XI. 28, 29.] THE subjects of the lobd's suppeb. 488
ourselves in. For so the apoatle meana, as appeara by ver. 31, foUowing
the text, ' Forif we would judge ourselves, we should not be judged.' To
what purpose is this commanded examination necessary, but for any man to
see whether he hath those dispositions which are essential requisites to this
ordinance?* The children of Habaiah, the children of Koz, and of Bar-
zillai, were not to eat of the most holy things, because they were not in the
register of the genealogies, Ezra ii. 61-63. If our names be not written in
heaven, and are not to be found in the genealogies of the new born, we are
not fit to eat of this holy feast. Those that were uncircumciaed in heart as
weU as in flesh, were not to enter into God's sanctuary, Ezek. xliv. 9.
Though an unrenewed man may be a great moralist, and hia moral virtues
may look like some pieces of a wedding garment, yet they are not the
wedding garment tUl they be wrought into a right fashion by faith. It is a
feast, and therefore only for God's friends. It is bread belonging to chil
dren; unrenewed men are not yet in a state of sonship. Circumcision was
to precede the passover, Exod. xii. 44 ; baptism to precede the supper.
But thia is but a symbol of an inward grace, without which no right to par
ticipation. The Israelitea were baptized in the Red Sea, before they fed on
spiritual manna, 1 Cor. x. 2, 3.
(1.) Faith is a neceasary qualification, but unrenewed men have not faith.
TaJce, eat, implies aomething spirituaUy to be done. There must be the
hand of faith to receive and apply Christ, the mouth of faith to take in Christ.
Natural men want both a spiritualhand and a spiritual mouth. An unbeliever
receives the elements, not the life and spirit, of a sacrament. Faith is as much
a condition requisite to a spfritual partaking of the sacrament, as to everlast
ing salvation. No salvation without believing, no taste of Christ without
believing. Without faith, a man receives no more the body of Christ, than a
chicken that should come into a room after, and pick up some fallen crumbs
of bread from the ground, receives the body of Christ. The main qualifica
tion which makes sacramental bread spiritual food is wanting. We can no
more turn the bread and wine into the body and blood of Christ without
faith, than a chemist can transmute one metal into another without the
operation of fire. Christ dwells .in the heart by faith only, Eph. iii. 17.
The paschal lamb was not to be eaten till the posts of the house were
sprinkled with the blood of it, Exod. xii. 7. The soul must be sprinkled
with the blood of Christ by faith before it is fit to partake of this ordinance.
As God doth not promise salvation absolutely to man, but upon condition of
faith, so the sacrament doth not seal absolutely remission of sins to man,
but upon the condition of believing. If there be no sealing therefore of the
counterpart to God by performing the condition upon which God doth found
hia grants, there is no right to the seal. The promise is made to the peni
tent and beliering sinner. What interest can he think to have in the seal,
who hath not yet embraced the promise ? It seals in particular to a person
what the word proposeth in general upon such a condition. Pardon of sin
is sealed to faith ; there must be a performance of the condition on our part,
before there oan be any ratification by the seal to us. God seals no more
than he promises, nor in any other manner than he promisea. He pro
mises only to faith, and therefore only seals to faith. Covenant graces
therefore must be possessed and acted before covenant blessings can
be ratified to us. As in covenants between man and man, the seal an
nexed to the writing seals no more than what ia contained in the writ
ing, and upon the acceptance and performance of such conditions, whioh
* Bolton of the Sacrament, pp. 87, 88.
VOL. IV. E e

434 chabnock's woeks. [1 Coe. XI. 28, 29.
are mentioned in the deed. Where there is not therefore an acceptance and
performance of the conditions between the parties, the seal is no more than
a blank, as to any real advantage. The sacrament is a seal in actuprimo, in
its own nature, but not in actu secundo to a wicked man; a faithless impeni
tent man hath not the beneficial fruit of it. It doth seal an unbehever his
damnation ; for ' he that believes not ahaU be damned,' is part of the
gospel, as weU as ' he that believes shall be saved,' Mark xvi. 16. The
queation is not, whether the condition of faith may not be infused at the
time of partaking by the extraordinary grace of God. The supper seems
not to be a renewing, converting ordinance. That there must be faith, if
there be any true fruit of it, is out of queation, and that no unrenewed man
hath, nor can have, any hopea he should be there inspired with so noble and
necessary a grace ; and therefore in that state he is not a capable subject of
thia ordinance. For such therefore to approach the Lord's table, ia a mock
ing of God, to come to God to aeal the remission of sin, when they have no
mind to come up to the conditions wherewith that pardon is proposed ; as
it ia for a man to come to a prince for pardon, who hath not yet laid down
hia arma against him. God in his aeal testifies his approbation of the pro
misea upon the conditions expressed ; man in receiving testifies his appro
bation of the condition. He that hath no principle of approbation in him,
mocks God in bis approach. Faith is a necessary moral qualification to the
receiving of the sacrament.
(2.) An unrenewed man is not in covenant, and therefore no capable sub
ject. This follows upon the former. If he hath not faith, the condition of
the covenant, he ia not in covenant with God ; and what right hath auch an
one to the seals ? All men by nature are ' strangers to the covenant of
promise, aliens from the commonwealth of Israel,' Eph. ii. 12. What have
they to do with tbe privilege of the free denizens of Israel ? They that are
not included in the deed have nothing to do with the seals of the convey
ance ; it is but fruitless wax, to them, not a confirming seal. The covenant
runs thus, ' My beloved is mine, and I am his,' Cant. ii. 16 ; it ia mutual
between the parties. By covenanting with God, we become the Lord's :
Ezek. xvi. 8, ' I entered into covenant with thee, saith the Lord, and thou
becamest mine.' There is an appropriation of Christ to us, and a consecra
tion of ourselves to Christ. What hath he to do with the ordinance, that
wanta the essentials of the covenant, who hath no valuation of Christ, no
breathings after him, nor makes any dedication of himself to Christ ? Those
that never gave up themselvea to God, receive no seal, but mere bread, mere
wine. Unregenerate men are under a covenant of works. The covenant of
works was made with the whole nature of man in Adam ; the curse of the
covenant seized upon all. Gal. iii. 10 ; the duties of that covenant are incum
bent upon them who are under the curse of it; the violation of that
covenant freed not man from his obligation to duty, though it brought
upon him a new obligation to punishment. It is a privilege only of be
lievers to be freed from the covenant of works ; for they are ' not under
the law, but under grace,' Rom. ri. 14. And ' there is no condemnation'
only ' to them that are in Christ,' Rom. viii. 1. But where men do not
believe, God deals with them upon the terms of the first covenant ; he
expects a fijU righteousneaa from them in their own peraons, as being with
out Christ, and having not accepted of his blood upon his own terms, to
take away the guilt of their sins. It is true, unregenerate men are under
the offera of the covenant of grace, but not within actual acceptation of the
covenant of grace. They enjoy some benefita of the covenant made with
Christ ; for they enjoy their hves, have worldly comforts, the fruita of God's

1 Cob. XI. 28, 29.] the subjects op the lobd's suppeb. 435
patience, all which are upon the account of the Mediator ; and they have
been entered in by baptism ; yet since they practically disown the terms of
that covenant, they put themselves back under a covenant of works, to stand
upon their own bottom ; and therefore refusing a consent to that covenant,
the benefits of the covenant belong not to them. For if a aeal (as aome
affirm) be of the same nature with an oath, whereby God confirms his pro
mise, yet it is so only to the hefrs of promise, not to those that are rejec
ters of the covenant and promise.
(8.) This sacrament is a sacrament of nourishment. Unrenewed men
therefore are not fit for it. They are dead, Eph. ii. 1 ; and what hath a dead
man to do with a feast ? Men must be alive before they be nourished. It
is eat, drink. The principal intent is not to eat corporeally, but spiritually ;
words not to be spoken to a dead man. Meat and drink may be put into a
dead man's mouth, but he can swallow down neither one nor another in a
vital way, nor concoct either of them. He that wants the life of grace can
make no use of the nourishment of grace ; so that the sacrament is at beat
but a vain thing to such. But beaidea, the very end of the aacrament ia
perverted, when the richest viands are taken by a man spiritually dead ; as
the end of bread, which ia to nourish the body, is perverted, and the
creature abused by being used contrary to the end of it, when it is put into
the mouth of a dead man, to whom it can be no advantage. The body of
Christ conveys strength and growth to his own members only ; to hving
members, not to dead. Dead branches receive no sap from the vine.
(4.) This sacrament is an ordinance of inward communion with Christ.
But unrenewed men can have no inward communion with him. They can
not have that joy which ought to be in a converse vrith Christ, because they
cannot taste any of those spiritual dainties which are in this feaat. They
may eat the sacramental bread, but regenerate men only have a new relish,
spirituaUy, to taate the body and blood of Christ ; they only relish the milk
of the word, and the sweetness of a sacrament. What communion can
Belial have with Christ, or darkness with light ? Christ will have no con
verse with his enemies, tiU they are prepared for his reception by the stamp
of hia Spirit. Christ muat be let into the heart before he sups with it :
Rev. iii. 20, ' If any man open the door, I will come in to him, and sup
with him.' The door must be opened by conversion, before Christ will feast
with the aoul in a spiritual communion. Those that are not graciously fit
for a spiritual communion with him in heaven, are not fit for a spiritual
communion with him in the earth : ' Unless we be bom again, we cannot
enter into the kingdom of God,' John iii. 5, and therefore have no right to
those privileges which are the foretastes of glory. Bosom-communion be
longs only to bosom friends ; others are but intruders, and will receive no
countenance from Christ.
(5.) This ordinance is to be received by true Christians only. But re
newed men only are such. Christianity ia an inward powerful work, not a
paint, an image. The form of godliness doth not constitute a man a Chris
tian, but the power of it, 2 Tim. iii. 5. AU natural men are ' without God
in the world ;' they are ahoi, Eph. ii. 12, atheists, and may as weU be oaUed
ax^igni, not Christians, being ' without Christ.' There is not only required
an assent of the understanding to make a man a Christian in foro Dei, but
a consent of the wiU ; there must be the accepting as weU as the assenting
part. It is not a bare knowledge, or the profession of rehgion, demonstrates
a man a regenerate man, either in the presence of God, or to himself, though
to others in the judgment of charity it doth. It is a work of the wiU that is
required ; he ia no Christian who barely knows Chriat to be king, priest.

486 chabnock's woeks. [1 Cob. XI. 28, 29.
and prophet, and cordially accepts him in none of those offices. Now this
ordinance being the proper badge and privilege of Christians, none ought to
partake of it but Christians. These evidences belong to the proper tenant,
not to the counterfeit ; to those that are his real friends, not to his lip
friends and heart enemies. Freemen only have a right to the privileges of
the city, and true Christians to the pririlegea of the church.
Obj. But it may be said. By this, none but those that have assurance of
their being in a state of grace ought to come to this institution ; and cer
tainly there is many a true Christian wants this comfort ; and the supper is
a privilege due to grace, not to assurance ; to Christians as Christians, not
to Christians as comfortable Christians.
Ans. I answer, Caution is to be used in this, lest some doubting Chris
tian should be left in a maze. Many humble souls are most backward ; the
presumptuous spur on apace ; the baser metala are most volatile.
(1.) Penitent persons mourning for sin, though wanting assurance, are
regenerate, and have a right. Contrite hearts are the most acceptable sacri
fices to God, next to the bruised body of our Saviour, Ps. li. 17. Those
that have bruised hearts, and cannot call to mind their former sins, but the
pulse of their indignation beats quick against them, to auch Christ appears
first. He shewed himself to Mary Magdalene before he appeared to any of
the apostles after his resurrection, yea, before he appeared to hia own mother,
Mark xvi. 9 ; and possibly some of her former sorrow began to spring afresh,
and her speech seems to discover some sorrow and astonishment in her, and
a great affection to Christ, John xx. 11, 13, 15. Such bleeding, contrite
souls doth Christ love ; and such^as he loves shall be as John, lying in his
bosom, and leaning upon him at a sacrament. Where there is a true re
pentance, a detestation of all sin, a resolution to avoid sin for the future, and a
lying at the feet of Christ, there is true grace, though it may not be always
visible to the soul. These are the sour herbs we are to eat the passover withal.
(2.) Regenerate persons cannot always say positively that they have grace,
yet find so much ground as that they cannot absolutely deny it, unless in
some sharp fit of desertion. It is not easily discerned sometimes, because
of the weakness of it. Faith, like a grain of 'mustard seed, may lie some
times in a heap of rubbish ; clouds of ain, vrithdrawings of the Spirit, and
injudiciousness of conscience, may obscure the work upon the heart at some
seasons ; yet a strong wiU, and an earnest breathing to please Christ, whis
pers something in the soul to cherish it. A strong and prevaihng wUl is
the proper evidence of conversion, and in Scripture it is expresaed by will :
Rev. xxii. 17, ' Let him that is athirst come, and he that will, let him come,'
The acts of the will and the thu'st of the soul are easily discernible, enough
to keep the heart from a denial of the work of grace, though not enough to
clear it up against all oppositions. The work of grace may be clouded ; the
sun does not always send forth its beams. The thorn in Paul's flesh seems
to be a present cloud upon his spirit, hindering him from a sight of his own
evidences, since it is put in opposition to the revelations he had in his rap
ture into the third heavens, 2 Cor. xii. Mary knew her own affection to
Christ, and her sorrow for her sin, and could not deny those affections so
palpable in herself and visible to others ; but had not assurance of her state
till Christ spake that comfortable word to her, Luke vu. 38, 48, ' Thy sins
are forgiven thee.' Every man that is regenerate may be able, upon a
perusal of his own heart, to say, I am sincere in this or that ; my ends are
right, and the bent of my heart standa towards God. In grace there is some
hght discovering of it, though not perfectly, yet so as the soul can aay, I am
no hypocrite.

1 Cob. XI. 28, 29.J the subjects of the loed's suppee. 437
(3.) A perfect assurance is not required. It is said, ' Let a man examine
himself as to the frame and temper of his heart ; not let him be assured of
his being in Christ and of an happy state, but let him take a survey of his
heart, and see that hia framea are suitable, and so let him come. The
supper suppoaeth men not to have a full assurance ; it is a seal, and seals
are for confirmation, where there may be matter of doubt. It is a question,
whether a perfect assurance be in the world. As grace is not perfect, but
hath its ebbs and flooda, so hath assurance. As faith is mixed with unbelief,
ao ia assurance with doubtings. As the aoul saith, ' Lord, I beheve ; help
my unbelief,' so it hath often said. Lord, I hope ; help my doubts. The
needle stands right to the North Pole, but not without ita tremblings. In
the^ greatest doubtings, we ahould have recourse to those sparklings and
sprightly leaps of onr aoula, when we found the first touches upon our hearts,
and stay ourselvea upon those presents we had in the day of our espousals.
2. Ignorant persons are not in a capacity for the supper. The aubjects
capable of it are men and women professing Christianity, and understanding
the grounds of that which they profess. Light in the mind, and the true
knowledge of God, was part of the image of God, and our original righteous
ness in the creation, as well as rectitude in the wUl, and the right standing
of it towards God, Col. iii. 10. Ignorance being a privation of that orna
ment of the aoul, a fruit of our apoatasy, the root of all our diahonouring of
God, cannot render ua fit gueats for his table, or procure a welcome from
him. Blind offerings oan be no more acceptable to God under the gospel
than they were under the law. He is a great king, Mai. i. 14. Those that
approach to him are bound to know what belongs to the honour of his name.
By this ignorance we are not to understand,
(1.) An ignorance of the abstruse controversies in religion, which are
often too knotty for the sharpest and most industrious understanding to un^
loose. A man may be unable to understand thorny and intricate disputes,
yet with a sanctified knowledge of the fundamentals of religion, be in a
nearer capacity for the benefita of thia ordinance, than those that by their
subtle wits can diride a hair.
(2.) Nor a scholastical knowledge of fundamentals, so as to be able to give
an exact definition of those things which are necessary to be known. It is
sufficient if he knows them as a Christian, though not as a scholar. A house
may be strong, and keep out wind and weather for the security of the in-
hahitant, though it be not ao neatly built and skilfully garnished. A man
may know the fundamental articles, yet not know aU the consequences ration
ally deducible from those articles.
(3.) Nor a perfect knowledge of all the ends of the death and resurrection
of Chriat. To know that Christ died, what he waa, and for v^hat he died, is
necessary, but a perfect knowledge none have. As graces have their spots,
so our knowledge hath its mixtures of darkness. The wisdom which the
wise angels are daily learning, cannot be grasped by the largest and most
elevated understanding upon the earth. The disciples in the time of Christ's
being in the fleah, had but little knowledge of hia death and resurrection,
Luke ix. 44, 45, John xx. 9. Peter understood him to be the Son of God,
but was ignorant of God's design to redeem the world by his blood. Mat.
xri. 16, xxh. 23. They afterwards knew something of it, and had an habit
and disposition to beheve whatsoever Christ ahould reveal to them. Yet
that knowledge which was aufficient for the apostles, tUl a fuller manifesta
tion by the Spirit, ia no plea for our ignorance in the same thing, since the
pouring forth of the Spirit, the taking off Mosea hia veil, and penning the
truths of the gospel with a sunbeam. A little knowledge at the time of

438 chabnock's woeks. [1 Cob. XI. 28, 29.
Christ's being in the world, and in several ages of the world, where the
means have been^ less, would be more acceptable than a greater knowledge
now, disproportioned to the means of knowing.
(4.) There must be an understanding and believing in some measure the
fundamentals of religion. We must have some understanding of the nature
and attributes of God, especially those that are more bright in the sufferings
of Christ, and they are to be particularly respected in all our acts of worship :
aa the holiness and justice of God, the power and faithfulness of God, the
omniscience and omnipresence of God, the sovereignty and goodness of God.
We must know the fall of Adam, the fruits of it upon his posterity, the
exactness and spirituality of the law ; there can be no motion to God with
out a aense of our misery. We must know Christ in his nature, God-man ;
in his design, redemption ; in his commission, sent ; in the manner of effectt-
ing it, by the shedding his blood, resurrection from the dead ; the manner
of applying it, by his intercession in heaven, and his Spirit on earth ; in his
offices, as king, priest, and prophet; the efficacy, value, and merit of his
sufferings, the purifying virtue of his blood, the necessity of aalvation by
him, that there ia no justification but by hia righteouaness, no sanctification
but by his Spirit, and that one is as necessary as the other ; the one for our
acceptance with God, the other for our communion with God : the necessity
and nature of faith for the enjoyments of the benefits purchased. There
must be some knowledge in all thoae things, else we know not to whom, or
how, or for what to apply ouraelves in this great mystery of Christianity,
whioh exhibits and represents to us on God's part the whole scheme of re
demption, and requires on our parta the exercise of faith about its proper
and particular object. There must be aome knowledge of thoae things ; the
quantity cannot be determined ; the quality is, that it be a sensible know
ledge ; not such a knowledge as a parrot hath, that may be taught to rehearse
the creed, without reason or sense to underatand or believe a word he speaks.
A modest and a sensible ignorance, provided it be not total, is more tolerable
than a puffed and insensible knowledge.
(5.) A knowledge of the nature and enda of the ordinance. The Lord's
body cannot otherwise be discerned, ver. 29. The mysteries of the ordi
nance would be as Arabic letters to him that understands not the meaning of
them. The maater of the family was to teach the use and ends of the pass-
over to the receiver, and all that were present were to understand the ground
of the first institution, and the nature of the ordinance. The supper being
a contract between God and man, a man must understand the nature and
terms of that covenant, and also the nature and end of the seal ; he cannot
else be a worthy contractor with God. The body of the Lord cannot be
discerned without an understanding of the nature of the ordinance, and the
nature of the ordinance cannot be understood without a knowledge of those
principles of religion upon whioh it is built.
Ignorant persons are not fit to come.
(1.) They are uncapable of performing the duties requisite. The ante
cedent duty of self-examination enjoined by the apostle as essentially neces
sary, ' So let him eat,' not otherwise. Those therefore that are unskilful
in this work, by reason of their ignorance of the universal depravation of
nature, the obnoxiousness of all men to the curse of the law, and the im
possibUity of avoiding the terrors of it without an interest in that mediator,
in and by the way of hia own appointment, are uncapable of performing this
duty, and so unfit subjects for this ordinance. They cannot repent, for they
have no spiritual eye to discover their own filthiness. The prodigal never
' came to himself till his understanding was enhghtened, Luke xv. 17. By

1 CoB. XI. 28, 29.] THE subjects op the lobd's suppeb. 439
the same ground that infants and children are excluded (who were anciently
admitted to this ordinance), because of their defect of reaaon, not being able
to perform thia'duty, ignorant persons are to be excluded. In them there is
a natural, in ignorant persons a moral, inability, and under means of grace a
sinful indisposition. There is as much reason for children in age to partake
of this ordinance as for children in understanding. Both have a want of
knowledge in those things which are of a concern to a right participation of
this ordinance ; nor can they perform the concomitant duties. Those who
understand not the nature and ends of the death of Christ, cannot com
memorate it in a right manner. All our service of God ought to be a reason
able service ; not only as having the highest reason for a motive to urge it,
but in regard of the modus, the manner of doing it. It must be done with
an exercise of reason. We must serve God as Christiana ; but in our service
we must not put off the nature of man. The right manner of partaking of this
supper consists in repentance of sin, and faith in Christ ; what repentance
can there be for sin, when the evU of sin and the deplorable consequents of it
are not known ? What faith can there be in one ignorant of the cause and
ends of the death of Christ ? They cannot come with desires suitable, that
know nothing of their own wants. They who know not themselves empty,
cannot desfre spiritual fulness ; who know not themaelvea sick, cannot desire
spiritual cordials ; who know not themaelvea under the curse of the law, can
not deaire a aatisfying Christ ; they have no sense of that for which his body
waa bruiaed, wounded, and crucified. Nor oan they perform the aubaequent
dutiea, which are a walking in holiness ; there ia no foundation in blindness
for any regular walk.
(2.) All ignorant persona are unbelievers. None formerly entered into
covenant by a solemn profession * but those that had knowledge : Nehem.
X. 28, 29, ' Every one having knowledge and having understanding entered
into an oath to walk in God'a law.' Howcan any beheve the glorious things
of the gospel, whioh they know not, nor desire to know, but stop their ears,
blind their eyes like bats and owls, love the darkness of the night better than
a clear sunshiny day ? If we know not the firmness of the ground, we will
never set our foot upon it. A man in ignorance ia in the ' chains of dark
ness.' ' Darkness ' and the ' power of the devil ' are the same thing. Acts
xxvi. 18. He that hath ignorance in his head and heart is alienated from
God. An alienation from God is a friendship with the devil. Is it fit for
the voluntary captives of Christ'a greateat enemy to come rattling with their
chaina of darkness, and under the conduct and power of the deril, to a feast
appointed for the friends of God ?
(3.) Such know not how to value this ordinance aright. It is not fit a
jewel should be bestowed on him who understands not the value of it, and
would part with it for a aong to the next cheat he meets. An ignorant
person would part with any spiritual excellency upon the next temptation of
the devil. As want of strength makes the body, so want of knowledge makes
the minds of children capable of being moulded into any form. An eye un-
purged from the films upon it can never discover the beauties of divine
mysteries, or entertain them with any spiritual delight. He that understands
not his original corruption knows not how to prize a medicine. You may
sooner make one born blind admire the sun, which he never saw, than make
a bhnd soul have an estimation of Christ, to whom he hath a natural enmity.
(4.) Ignorant persons are always under the command of some secret lust.
Ignorance itself is a great ain. The not knowing what we may easily know,
since it is revealed, ia so far from excusing that it rather aggravates ; be-
* Ignorantis non est consensus.

440 chabnock's wobks. [1 Coe. XI. 28, 29.
cause it is not a defect in the faculty itself (as in the case of madmen), but
a defect in the improvement of the faculty, and such a defect as is voluntary,
which man hath a power to remove. It stifles the notion of God rather than
is dispelled by it : John i. 5, ' The darkness comprehendeth it not,' i. e. the
light. Besides the evil of its own nature, it is the ground of all wickedness,
If they are only ' filled with goodness ' that are filled with knowledge, Rom
XV. 14, they must be filled with evU that are filled with ignorance. Where
the mind is dark, the motion must needs be irregular. The ignorance con
tracted by the fall hath been the root of all the corrupt inchnations and mis
carriages in Adam'a posterity. Ignorance first brought lust into fashion
and keeps up the mode : 1 Peter i. 14, ' Not fashioning yourselves accord'
ing to your former lusts in your ignorance.' A fashion, course, and formol
sin renders men unfit guests for the Lord's table.
And this leads to the third proposition.
3. Proposition. Men guilty of a course of sin, though aecret and unknown
to others, are unfit for this ordinance. This injunction, ' Let a man ex
amine himself, and so let him come,' bars out such. By examination is not
to be meant a bare act of examination, but that which ought to be conse
quent upon it ; not let a man examine himself, and in whatsoever posture
he finds his soul let him come ; no, let' him examine himself to find out the
nest of vipers in his soul which hiss against Christ, and cast them out.
Let him perform the acts consonant to that state wherein, upon inquiry, he
finds himself. What man would be so wretched as to make this conclusion :
I am a swine, a beast, I live in such and such sins unrepented of, yet I have
performed my' duty, I have examined myself which is allthe apostle requires
of me, and I rest in this act ; nothing more ia enjoined me. Is there no
end of this act? All things are commanded, not for themselves, but for
some end. The apostle enjoins it not to make the sacrament a license for
sin, or to encourage the wearing of Christ's livery to keep men's luats warm.
Every secret gross sinner stands anathematised both by law and gospel ; the
law curseth him because of his ain, and the gospel condemns him because of
his unbelief ' What excludes a man from admission when it is known to
others, excommunicates him in his own conscience when it is only known to
himself All things in tbe ordinance bespeak purity ; tbe place was fitted
for the first institution, the soul must be fitted for the participation; the
place was trimmed for Christ's entertainment, the heart must be trimmed
fbr his reception. The grave of Christ was free from corruption ; no putre
fied body was ever lodged there ; the soul must be free from any affection to
filth. Though Christ had, not a hole where to lay his head, he wiU not have
a sty or a swine-trough wherein to lay his body. His humanity is advanced
above the highest heavens, and the signs of it are not to be received by an
earthly and polluted soul. Such ought not to approach, though they seem
to have a repentance, till it appears that their repentance is serious and
thorough. Those that have been stained with some secret gross crime ought
not to approach upon a sudden and late begun contrition.'* To mourn one
day and come to this ordinance the next, argues but little care to dispose
themselves for so great an institution. A soul glutted with sin, though be
ginning to vomit it up, cannot so suddenly gain a spiritual taste for the body
of Christ. How many have had sudden qualms, and discharged themselves
of some sina the better to swallow more ! Imaginations of repentance are
not always realities. He that offends another, and saith he is sorry for it,
and a short time after offends again, affords no reason to beheve that he is
a penitent in earnest. * Cajetan. Sum., p. 59.

1 Cob. XI. 28, 29.] the subjects of the lobd's suppeb. 441
Quest. What sins debar a man from this ordinance ?
(1.) Not such whioh are infirmities incident to human nature. Every sin
doth not impede the operation of faith about the proper object. Every
breach of the command is not a hindrance. Sins of daily infirmities are
breaches of the command, otherwise they are not sins. There is no perfec
tion of virtue, while remission of sins is to be daily petitioned for ; the state
of perfection ia reserved for a atate of glory. There is a blackneaa mixed
vrith the church's comeliness. Cant. i. 5, a blackness of ain aa well aa of
affliction. The wheat ceaseth not to be wheat, though tares are mixed with
it. In the beat mines there are earth and dross as well as gold ; precioua
stones have their flaws, which cannot be removed without the destruction of
the aubatance, nor infirmities abolished without the destruction of the body.
The disciples were not without corruptions at the institution ; ambition
bubbled up in them, Luke xxn. 24, and fear quickly made them forsake their
Maater ; but they were not naturalised or rooted in this evil, neither did the
devil enter into them as he did into Judas. As the Father of mercies doth
not discovenant us for every infirmity, so neither should we exclude our
selves from partaking of the seal : 1 John ii. 1, ' If any man sin, we have
an advocate with the Father.' The office of advocacy erected in heaven
supposeth sin after regeneration, and during our continuance in the world.
But there is a great difference between the indwelling of sin and the rule of
sin. To sin is to decline from that rectitude in an act which the agent ought
to observe. In this respect we sin, according to the tenor of the law, in
everything we do, though not according to the tenor of the gospel.
(2.) But a course in wilful and frequent breaches of a known command
debars a man. That which is against the principal intent of the command,
and the main office it requires of us, such as omissions of known duties.
When family duties are omitted, and the house, whioh should be as a little
church, is rather a synagogue of Satan ; when there is a total or frequent
omission of aecret prayer, which disowns that worship of God which is due
to him by the light of nature, and is the note of a wicked man. ' Will he
always call upon God ?' Job xxvii. 10. Those that forget Christ all the
week are not likely to be devout in the remembrance of him upon a Sabbath.
And such sins of commission as are enumerated, 1 Cor. vi. 9, 10, ' forni
cators, adulterers, effeminate, thieves, covetoua, drunkards, revilers, extor
tioners,' are a bar if not repented of, 2 Cor. xii. 21. The heart that is an
habitation of any of those kinds of devila is not a member of Christ, and can
bring nothing but a mystery of iniquity to fit it to partake of the mysteries
of Christ. This is a blaspheming Christ in the heart, while he ia received
with the hands ; hke the reviling thief that hung beaide him on the crosa, not
like a loving or beloved disciple that looks upon him by faith while he is
bleeding to death. These have no right till thefr guilt be unbound by re
pentance and faith.
Such ought not to meddle with thia ordinance.
[I.J Moral uncleanneaa is a greater bar than ceremonial. If a man were
defiled with a dead carcase, he was to forbear eating the passover. Num.
ix. 6. If any man, unclean by the touch of a dead body, came into the
tabernacle, he defiled it, and was threatened with a cutting off from larael,
Num. xix. 13. How much more ought they to abatain from the table of
the Lord, that are not only defiled, but dead, who bear a dead putrefied aoul
in a living body ? 1 Tim. v. 6, ' She that lives in pleasure is dead while
she Uvea.' If ceremonial uncleanness, without any mixture of a moral, were
hateful to God, much more hateful to him ia moral uncleanness. The wor
ship of God is more precious than to be saorUegiously invaded by impenitent

442 chabnock's woeks. [1 Cob. XI. 28, 29.
sinners ; every work of the handa, and that which ia offered -ia unclean, as
well as when offered by one that had touched the dead, Hag. ii. 18, 14.
Lepers who had a natural disease were not to come into the congregation,
that they might not defile the place wherein the Lord dwelt, Lev. xiii. 46,
Num. V. 2, much leas ought they to approach thia ordinance, where the
Lord is solemnly present as master of the feast, who have running sores,
and stink above ground in the nostrils of God. If for those outward un-
cleannesses men were to abstain from those institutions which the apostle
calls ' worldly rudimenta ' and ' carnal ordinancea,' they are too foul guests
for ao rich a feast, who can bring nothing else but the loathsome exhalations
of hell to spiritual ordinances. The livery of the devU becomes not the table
of the Lord.
[2.] All the right which they may claim by baptism is forfeited in foro
Dei. It is a repentance, profession of faith, resolution to walk accordingly,
and the answer of a good conscienpe towards God, whioh are the foundations
of any man's right to the supper ; but secret impieties are a disowning re
pentance, riolating good resolutions, denying the faith which hath been be
fore professed. Where the terms of the covenant are not observed, there is
a forfeiture of any right to the benefita and aeala of it. All rebelhon is of
right foUowed with an attainder and deprivation of birthright. A continual
breach of covenant by commission of known ain attaints the soul in the
court of heaven, and the charter is not to be enjoyed but by the parties that
fulfil the conditions required. He that ' bates instruction ' hath no part in
the covenant, Ps. 1. 16, 17. What claim can he be supposed to have, that
declares to God by his practice that he will not be ruled by his law, or own
him as his chiefest good ? A rebel separated from Christ in affection and
will hath nothing to do with an ordinance of peace. He that takes no care
of the honour of God who created him, nor of his own soul, which is to run
parallel with the endless line of eternity, is a much worse infidel than he
that neglects provision for his own family ; yet of such an one the apostle
pronounceth that he hath ' denied the faith,' 1 Tim. v. 8. Dogs they are
in the account of God, more deservedly than the believing Canaanite was in
the account of Christ. And wicked men are called so in Scripture, Rev. xxii.
15, 2 Peter ii 22. What right have dogs to the children's bread, to the
legacy of choicest love ? Can such be supposed to be included in his wUl ?
If they have any right, it is to the table of devils, not to that of the Lord.
And it may well be wondered how any men can come securely to a com
munion with Christ, who bring such evil dispositions and full-blown ains un
repented of, which they know will for ever deprive them of any communion
with God in heaven, unless they think that great sins should merit glory !
[3.] Such cannot in that state perform the duties requisite in this ordi
nance. Faith is a necessary qualification ; but a denial of subjection to
Christ is an evidence of a gross infidelity. Practices are the clearest indexes
of faith or unbehef ; evil works deny God in his promisea and precepts. If
any man tells you he beheves that to be fire which ia before him, and that
it will burn, and yet wilfully runs into it, you must eiither conclude he bath
no aaaent to what he doth affirm, or else that he ia mad, and hath a mind to
destroy himself. And those that believe neither the promise nor command
of the word, will not be induced to beheve it because of the aeal, when they
give no credit to the writing. Repentance ia necessary to this ordinance,
but this and a course of sin are utterly inconaistent : repentance is a ' break
ing off iniquity by righteousness,' Dan. iv. 27, and a secret sinner breaketh
off righteousness by iniquity. An unwearied practice manifests a fixed re
solution, but repentance is a change of the purpoae of the heart, not to

1 Cob. XI. 28, 29.] the subjects of the lobd's suppee. 443
commit the same iniquity again, nor any other : Job xxxiv. 82, ' If I have
done iniquity, I will do no more.' A purpose of sin cannot consist with
repentance, nor is a flashy purpose of repenting a true remorse. A bird
may soar high towards heaven, and presently descend as low as earth ; as
Saul resolved not to persecute David, but was quickly bent upon his old
game. He cannot have a aense of sin, which is a necessary qualification to
a worthy receiving : he understands not, believes not the vast breach sin
hath made between God and the world, who every day is resolved to make
it wider. He is not in the least traly affected with the greatneaa of that
God against whom he sina, with the kindness of that Christ whom he freshly
murders, the curse of the law which he hath incurred, nor the wrath of
God which he hath provoked. Where any one sin is loved, that soul hath
not a sense of the justice of God against it, or the unexpressible sufferings
of Christ for it ; and can such a man have a fundamental right, who hath not
a grain of the fundamental graces, or celebrate in a right manner the memorial
of Christ, who walks every day as if the devil were his redeemer ?
[4.] Such contemptuously undervalue the blood of Christ, and therefore
are unfit for this heavenly ordinance. It is no better than a mocking of
God to come to his table with a professed enmity in the heart againat him ;
a Judas's Hail, Master, while he is playing the traitor; the soldiers' Hail,
King of the Jews, to Christ, while they design to crucify him. This is to be
his executioner, not his guest. To hold in the heart any one sin, whioh is
the enemy of Christ, while we partake of the supper, is no other than to
design the murder pf him ; as he that invitea a prince to his house, wherein
he lodges a desperate enemy to the prince he inrites, may weU be supposed
to have a design against his life. We may as well profess our love openly
to the nails that pierced him, and the spear that ran into his side, and
adore them in our thoughta for such an action, as bring a love and zeal for
those sins which were more bitter to him than the nails in his hands, or
the reproaches of the rabble. A remoraeleasnesa in sin is a killing the Son
of God afresh. What is it to be guilty of the blood of a man, such a man's
blood as Job would not set with the dogs of his fiock, or the blood of a
Lazarus, who would be happier by a mortal stroke than a painful and
beggarly life ? What ia it then to have the guilt of the blood of the glorified
Son of God, the blood of him that came to be onr Saviour ; and thereby to
do more than approve of the cursed action of the Jewa ? Is it not as great
an affront, as if one fallen into a jakes should, in that filthy condition, in
trude himself into a prince's company, sit down at his table, and dip hia
bemired hands in the same dish ? He that knows himself to be a secret
enemy to God, undervaluea Christ by an approach to this ordinance, as if
the body and blood of the Redeemer were food fit for a viper, or a awine
good enough to wear his badge. Such is every man that hath a rooted
affection to any one sin under a profession of Christ ; he puts a disgrace
upon him, while he prefers his sin before him.
[5.] Such cannot receive any good from this ordinance. He can design
no good to himself with a resolution to continue in his sin. What can his
end be, but to see Christ bowing under sin, that himself may live more con
tentedly in it ? To attend upon any means of grace, that sin may abound,
and be more at ease, is equivalent to continue in sin, that grace may abound,
which the apostle mentions with God forbid, Rom. vi. 1, 2. Whosoever
lies impenitent in any gross sin is dead, and can receive no more nourish
ment from any spiritual ordinance, than a dead man can by meat put
into his mouth. His sin petitions against him, as Esther against Haman

444 chabnock's woeks. [1 Cob. XI. 28, 29.
at the banquet of wine,* and his death, as his sin, is more increased. He
makes his sin more bulky by the addition of that of unworthy receiving, and
hastens his death by a fresh provocation. It is as impossible such a man
can obtain any beneficial end of the inatitution, as it waa for a Jew to be
purified, who held in his hand an unclean thing which defiled him, while he
dipped himself in the purifying water ; and he gets just as much good by
the supper, as Judas by the sop, a part of the paschal sacrament. Job
xiii. 17 ; to have not only one devil enter into him, but seven more, and
retum more proud, covetous, unclean, unbelieving, impenitent than before,
with his sina more atrengthened, aa a believer's graces are, and more con
tented to lie in the mire, and increase sins to lay upon the cross of Christ.
Judas did no more than this. I suppose he came only with a resolution to
maintain that peculiar beloved sin of his, his covetousness, not dreaming of
the consequent of it, the death of his Master, nor with any intent to procure
it ; for he was sorry when he heard Christ waa condemned, and therefore
in all likelihood aimed, not at the loss of his Master's life, but the filling his
own purse ; yet the devil took possession of him. A resolution to continue
in any sin after the fit of devotion is over, settlea Satan's throne faster in
the heart. A wicked man'a aacrifice is always ' an abomination to the Lord,
much more when it is offered with a wicked mind,' Prov. xxi. 27. And
what more wicked mind can there be than to resolve to preserve the enemy
of a bleeding Christ found, whUe he is exhibited as broken and bleeding
for it?
[6.] Such as lie in the mire of any secret sin are not fit for this ordi
nance, because it is not a converting ordinance, neither in the intention of
God nor the ordination of Christ in the first institution. None but visible
professors were counted capable of it in the primitive times ; they first con
tinued ' in the apostles' doctrine,' and then ' in breaking bread,' Acts ii. 42.
I will grant first,
(1.) That it may be the instrument of a second or partial conversion.
There is a conversion from a natural state to a'state of grace, which is the
renewing of the mind ; this is ordinarily wrought by the word, as the cord
whereby God drawa men ; and a gradual conversion after some fall, as Peter
was converted by a look of Christ : Luke xxii. 32, ' When thou art converted.'
This latter may be caused by this ordinance, and that grace which hath
been suppressed by sin receive the virtue of a resurrection by the sacrament.
The representation of a broken Christ reminds a man of his sin committed
against so dear and loving a Saviour. The remembrance of Christ in that
ordinance, being the great wheel to set all the other wheels in motion, causes
an actual conversion by exciting the grace which was habituaUy there
before ; and this may be called a conversion, aa conversion is an exerting
those principlea of grace infused by the Spirit, and habituaUy resident in
the heart, though under some languor by the prevalency of some sin.
(2.) I do not question God's absolute power. Not what God may do, but
what he hath revealed to be his ordinary instrument, whereby he will work
this or that effect. Who can limit the Holy One of Israel ? His ways are
unsearchable, and hia patts past finding out. He hath an almighty power
to create millions of worlds, it doth not follow therefore that he will do it.
God by his absolute power may infuse the first grace into the heart at this
ordinance ; but God hath not discovered any such intention, or declared in
his word, or in the nature of the institution, that this is the end of it.
(3.) I do not deny but that it is possible, that a man that hath some
dispositions and previous preparations to grace, may have the first renewing
* Trap on Cant. vii. 7.

1 Coe. xi. 28, 29. J the subjects of the loed's suppee. 445
grace bestowed upon him at the supper.'* For an unregenerate man may
hy a serious precedent examination rake into his own heart and life, search
into his state how matters stand between God and his own soul, whereupon
follow some convictions, contrition, and disaffection to his darling lust, and
some resolutions against it ; and God may come in with converting grace at
the sacrament, and make an utter divorce between the soul and the sin, and
the new name may be given together with the manna, and grace infused at
that instant. Where there are such dispositions to the receiving a new
form, why may it not be introduced at that time as well as another ? Yet
if any such effect be, I should rather ascribe it to the word attending the
signs, than to the signs themselves, or the act of receiving ; the beginning
of grace being the proper end of the word, and not of the supper.
(4.) I will not deny but that it is possible that a man, seeing the
passion of Christ represented in the supper, may have such an impres
sion made upon his heart, and his affections united to Christ. The
exhortations may be instrumental to the converting a spectator of the
action and a hearer of the word. The sight of miracles hath been instru
mental to the conversion of aome (though I do not remember any particular
instance of any man's conversion by the sight of a miracle without the word
preached before, and then mira(3les added for confirmation of the word).
The sight of things makes a deep impression upon ua. The whole creation
ia a book of God's printing, and presents us with instructiona worthy our
notice, and generative of reflections in ua. God doth teach by the eye as
well as by the ear, and sacraments are called verbum visibile. This may be ;
but there ia no example of any such conversion in Scripture, nor doth the
end, manner, and nature of the institution credit the opinion of ita being a
converting ordinance, nor hath Christ discovered his will that it should be
so. If any man hath been converted by it, I should rather attribute that
effect to the word, the proper instrument of it. We say sol et homo generant
hominem., yet we do not call the sun but the man the father of the child.
Suppose a man had been converted by the aupper by the good pleaaure of
God, muat men unfit for it plead a right to it? Because one walking in the
way hath found ' a treasure, must every one expect the like hap by walking
in the same path ? I have heard of some, and knew one, who dated his first
spiritual awakening from a dream, but would not he dream that should look
upon that as an institution of God to that purpose ? Because one hath been
cured of an ague by running into water as cold as ice, must therefore all
under the same distemper follow the same course, where they may as well
expect their death aa thefr cure ? No man oan reasonably expect hia con
version by coming in such a posture, whereby, contracting more than an
ordinary guilt ofthe body and blood of Chriat, he incurs a greater damnation.
But it is not likely to be a converting ordinance, becauae,
(1.) If baptism be not a converting ordinance, much less is this of the
supper. That supposeth faith in the adult person, and the profession of
faith in the parent for the child. The Jews did not admit a proselyte to
circumcision before he was instructed in the law ; then upon his own pro
fession he was admitted to the seal, and his children upon the profession of
the parent ; and the apostle admitted no adult persons to baptism but upon
their profession of Christianity. Circumcision was a seal of the righteous
ness of faith, Rom. iv. 11; it was a 'seal ofthe righteouaness of faith which
he had, being yet uncircumcised.' The circumcision at tbe first institution
supposed faith in the party. Baptism hath the same relation, much more
the supper ; a seal supposeth something to be sealed. If it be appointed
* This is Suarez his opinion.

446 chabnock's wobks. [1 Cob. XI. 28, 29.
for ratifying the covenant and promises of it to the receiring soul, it sup
poseth that condition in the receiver which the covenant requfres, otherwise
it seals nothing. Anciently they did admit the baptized person immediately
to the supper, though they kept them long in instruction before they ad
ministered the former.
(2.) This sacrament is appointed for nourishment, and that supposeth
life. A sacrament doth not suppose the effect which it was instituted to
produce, but this sacrament supposeth grace in a participant.* And indeed,
bread and wine are not ordered to enliven a dead man, but to nourish and
maintain life in a living man. The bellows kindle not the wood, but sup
pose fire kindled before. This sacrament is inatituted aa a part of refresh
ment, with meat and drink ; and though Chriat, who ia exhibited in this
aacrament, can raise a dead man, yet he ia offered in thia ordinance for pro
ducing such effecta which are agreeable to the nature of it. He ia offered as
spiritual food, and spiritual food supposeth a new birth.
(8.) Pre-examination implies it to be no converting ordinance. If it were
so, what need this bar, ' So let him come,' and not otherwise ? What need
such a strict examination, whether they did repent or whether they were
regenerate ? He muat examine himself whether he be a sincere professor of
Christianity, whether he have true repentance and faith, whether Christ be
in him. "That which is pre-required to the Lord's supper it was not pro
perly instituted to effect.
(4.) The nature of excommunication speaks as much. Had it been a
converting ordinance, should not the incestuous person rather have been
kept in the Corinthian church for his amendment and reformation than
thrown out ? 1 Cor. v. 13, ' Put away from among you,' &c. It being in
tended as a medicine to reduce him to repentance and humiliation, did not
deprive him of that whioh was the chief remedy to bring him to repentance.
Though it be a cutting off from communion with the church and church pri
vileges, yet not from hearing the word, which is not properly a church pri
vilege, but the privilege of all where the gospel comes. An excommunicate
person is to be held in the same rank as a heathen or publican. Mat.
xviii. 17. Who would deny Turks and Pagans access to hearing the word
if they would come, or not rather inrite them to it and gladly receive them?
Converting ordinances may be diapepsed to known impenitent sinners.
Christ preached the word to the pharisees, his*stout-hearted enemies, who,
he knew, conspired against his life. But he instituted and administered the
supper only among bis disciples.
(5.) Tbe word was appointed to work faith. Rom. x. 17, ' Faith comes
by hearing' ; but where is it aaid, Faith comes by receiving the sacrament ?
There ia plain proof for the one, none for the other. Paul waa aent by
preaching to open men's eyes, Acta xxvi. 18. We find many converted by
the word, none by the sacraments : the jailor by the word, Lydia by the
word, the eunuch by the word, three thousand by the word. Faith is
necessary to a right hearing the word : not absolutely, for men hear that
they may believe ; but the word doth not profit us unless mixed with faith,
i, e. unless that which they hear be believed and assented to by them. If
either thia or baptism had been converting ordinancea, Paul's commission
would have run that way ; but he waa sent ' not to baptize, but to preach the
gospel.' Since then it is no converting ordinance, those that are unconverted,
who never yet repented Of and forsook their secret sina, are not fit guests
for Christ. * Suarez somewhat enlarged.

1 Coe. XI. 28, 29.] the subjects of the lobd's suppee. 447
But some will conclude the approach of secret sinners from Judas his
partaking of this ordinance ; but that is a question. Some think Judas
did receive, others conclude he did not, and that he went out before
the supper. Zanchy thinks it thwarts the story of St John's Gospel ;
Beza gathers that he waa not there from John xiii. 30, ' He then having
received the sop, went immediately out,' iufsaig k^rfkhv, which waa at the
end of the second supper, after which Christ inatituted the sacred supper.
The sop waa properly a part of the rite belonging to the paschal lamb,
dipped in the sauce of bitter herbs, which the master of the family reached
to every guest, Exod. xii But the sacramental bread was broken, not
dipped in any liquor. Gomarus* hath this argument : Christ (Luke
xxii. 19, 20) tells them his body was given for them, and his blood shed
for them, without making any exception of Judaa, whioh it is likely he
would if he had been preaent, as he did in his prayer afterwarda, John
xvii. Judas had no intereat in the body and blood of Christ for remission
of sin ; his sins could not be remitted, neither could he have any profit by
the body and blood of Christ, for Chriat calls him, John xvii. 12, ' the
son of perdition, that the Scripture might be fulfilled.' And consider,
Judas was in hell before Christ suffered death, for he hanged himaelf as
soon as ever he heard Christ was condemned, and Christ's blood could not
be shed for him any more than for any other in hell. It ia not hkely
that Christ, who never admitted Judas to the choicest familiarities, should
admit him to this standing token of his love. When he whipped buyers
and sellers out of the temple, he would scarce suffer a devil to be partaker
of hia body and blood. If he would not pray for Judas, it is not likely he
would give the symbols of his body and blood to Judas. Aa to that, Luke
xxii. 21, ' The hand of him that betrays me is vrith me on the table ;' being
put after the relation of the supper, it ia no argument for Judaa his receiv
ing it ; for the evangelists do not observe always in their relations the order
of things as they were done. Mark (chap. xiv. 23, 24) relates the passage
of the supper as if the words of institution were dehvered after they had
drunk the wine and ate the bread without knowing to what end, and the
institution had been after thefr participation of it. According to the other
evangelists, this speech concerning Judas was before the institution, Mat.
xxvi. 21, &c. ; Mark. xiv. 19, &c. But suppose Judaa did partake of
the supper, what encouragement is it to a secret sinner at any time to
venture upon it, when he may fear Judas his reward, and a greater power
of the devil and his lusts over him.
Use. Let ns look well to ourselves. Privileges must not be rested in
securely without inspection into ouraelves and examination of our ways ; we
may be odious in God's eye, though fair in men's. The profession of faith
may be without the grace of faith ; there may be knowledge without an
intemal and secret practice ; much light in rotten wood ; there may be a
counterfeit integrity, a moral integrity without an evangehcal ; a repentance
to be repented of, and a faith not sincere. Some shaU come at the last day
and tell Christ they have ate and drank in his presence, eaten his body
and drank his blood in the sacrament, and be answered with a dreadful, I
know not whence you are, Luke xiii. 26, 27. God wUl shut heaven's gates
against many whom the gates of the visible church cannot be locked against.
Something else is required to give a title in the judgment of God than what
gives a title in the judgment of man. Ananias and Sapphira we may rank
among the first of seeming converts, but made the examples of God's judg
ment for thefr sin. * Vol. 1. p. 471.

448 chabnock's woeks. [1 Cob. XI. 28, 29.
Doct. 2. It is every man's duty solemnly and seriously to examine himself
about his interest in Christ, his habitual grace, his actual right and fitness
for the Lord's Supper before his approach to it. It is not the first time of
our partaking, but every time, ' so let him come.' Now, the second and
third time as well as before ; great preparations are necessary for great
duties. The particle so bars men from coming without this previous work.
Let him come in such a manner ; if he neglects this self-examination, let
him not venture upon this great mystery. Thus, Ps. xxvi. 6, ' I wUl wash
my hands in innocency, so will I compass thy altar, 0 Lord,' alluding to the
ancient custom of testifying the purity of their souls by the cleansing their
hands, or to the washings used before sacrificea ; or if we take Ambrose his
gloss, I wiU with a purity of heart embrace the Messiah, signified both by
the altar and sacrifice. ' So will I compass thy altar ; i' without such an
inward purification, I dare not presume upon an approach unto it. There
ought to be an inspection into ourselves, that there may be nothing dis
agreeable to the Master of the feast, or unworthy of his honour. If a care
of our garb and carriage be necessary in our approach to tbe table of an
earthly prince, much more when we come to the table of the Lord, where
the mighty Sovereign of heaven invites us to feed upon those dainties which
are the dehght of his heart and the nourishment of our souls, the joy of hea
ven, and ought to be the pleasure of earth. Christ prepared himself for his
Bufferings ; he examined his own strength before he engaged, had the assur
ances, security, and accepting testimony of his Father before he entered
upon them, so that he had nothing to do but to suffer when he came to it ;
and we should have nothing to do but to feast with God when we approach
to him to commemorate those sufferings. Adam's body was prepared by
God before the inbreathing of a living soul, and our souls must be prepared
before the entrance of a quickening Saviour. . If we take physic, we prepare
our bodies, that the medicine may have the freer and surer operation ; when
we sit down at our ordinary meals, we would have prepared stomachs. ShaU
we prepare vessels for our own service, and bring unprepared hearts to the
table of the Lord ? Would not we have meat but in a clean dish, and shaU
we lay the eternal food, the flesh and blood of Christ, in miry aouls ? Every
ordinance hath a preparative ; meditation is to usher in prayer, prayer is to
sanctify the word, the word and prayer to sanctify other ordinances. This,
institution hath examination for its harbinger to prepare the way of ita access
to us, and our access to it.
1. This self-examination or preparation is necessary. God required it in
all dutiea. Purification went before sacrificing. The preparation and exa
mination of themselves as to ceremonial uncleanness was strict before the
passover, which was inferior to this ordinance, as the legal state was to the
evangelical. The mercy to be now remembered is greater, the duties of
preparation and devotion ought not to be less. The death of Christ was
then represented to be suffered in time, it is now represented both as auffered
and accepted. The clog of legal administrations is knocked off by the
gospel, but not the holiness, which is both the beauty of the soul and an
ornament of dirine inatitutions. The meanest vessel belonging to the sanc
tuary, the shovels, basins, flesh-hooks, and fire-pans, were not to be used
without preparation by a holy oil, Exod. xl. 9-11. Much more ought we
to be aanctified for the participation of the aymbols of that body which was
crucified for us on earth, and glorified for us in heaven. The cfrcumstances
at the institution require it ; the room wherein it waa instituted waa pre
pared, Mark xiv. 15. Christ washed his disciples' feet before the institu
tion, John xiii. 5. We must imitate him, and wash our souls before the

1 Coe. XI. 28, 29.] the subjects op the loed's suppee. 449
participation. The Spirit'a aanctification givea a right to the benefits pur
chased by the blood of Chriat. The heart, which ia a veaael to receive the
body of Christ, ought to be prepared, aa well aa the room wherein he first
appointed and celebrated the symbols of it, or the grave, wherein hia body
was to be awhile enshrined. His body in the sacrament must be wrapped
in a clean soul, as well as his body by Joseph in clean linen. Our Saviour
entered not upon his offices without preparation by prayer and fasting, Mat.
iv. 12, Mat. xxvi. 36, to set ua a pattern ofthe like practice before any great
undertaking. If men were to sanctify themselvea before they came to the
sacrifice, — 1 Sam. xvi. 5, ' Sanctify yourselves, and come with me to the
sacrifice,' — and eat of the part appointed for the feast, there is aa much
reason for preparation for the commemoration of the greatest sacrifice that
ever was, the substance of all those that were offered before it. Thia can
not be without a previous examination of the quality and measures of the
habitual grace in ua, and what filth remaina to be purged out.
(1.) It is necessary to clear up a right. There ia an outward acceptation
of Christ and his laws without a true and inward change of heart. All the
Corinthians were called saints by the apostle : 1 Cor. i. 2, ' called to be
saints ; ' saints by an outward calling, not all so by an inward regeneration.
There are blazing comets which may appear bigger and greater than a fixed
star. A gilded metal and true gold are outwardly like one another, yet
differ in their apeciea. There ia a sanctification which ia common to apos
tates from the faith, Heb. x. 29. The Scripture mentions a ' dead faith,'
James ii. 26, which is no more a faith than a carcase is a man. There is
a ' repentance unto life,' Acts xi. 18, whioh supposeth a dead repentance,
like the humiliation of Ahab, dropping tears without a mollifying of his
natural hardness ; or Judas hia sorrow, raised by the fire of his conscience,
not by the look of his Master. There is a ' lively hope,' 1 Peter i. 3, which
supposeth a dumpish and heavy-headed hope. There are ' lively stones,'
1 Peter iii. 5, which implies that there are some unhewn and rough atonea,
not fitted and prepared for the temple. There ia a repentance towarda God,
and a sorrow whioh works death, differenced not in their outward acts, their
shape and resemblance being ahke, but in their inward aims. The buUding
npon the rook and the sandy foundation might be of the same outward
beauty, form, height ; the foundationa were different ; the one firm, the
other fading. Satan'a chUdren may appear angels of light as well as their
father. There is a faith common with devils, there is a faith proper to
Christians, solis et semper, alwaya in the habit, though not alwaya in the act.
(2.) It is necessary for the exciting of grace. That the soul may be
excited before ; that there may not be an ebb in our affections when there
is a flood of our Saviour's blood ; that our stomachs may not faU ua in the
presence of a full banquet ; that we may not have little thoughts in the
presence of great and adorable objects. The paachal lamb was not to be
eaten boiled, but roasted, Exod. xii. 8, 9. The Jews say they were not to
baste it with water, but with wine or oU, both inflaming, to shew indeed
the mighty agonies and scorching aufferinga of Chriat ; perhapa, alao, to
mind ua of the warm and glowing frame our hearts were to be in at the eat
ing of our passover sacrificed for us, that we may have fervent affections,
without any chillness to damp our heat. To think or apeak of the work of
redemption without a suitable devotion ia unworthy of any that bears a
Christian badge, much more to have slight and creeping affections, when
the great mysteries of it, with aU the parts, are presented before our eyes.
An actual exercise of grace is necessary to the concocting this spiritual food,
VOL. IV. ^ f

450 chabnock's wobks. [1 Cob. XI. 28, 29.
aa an actual excitation by nature of that ritriol humour, or natural heat, or
whatsoever other cause of concoction it ia for the preparing our bodily food
to be nouriahing to the members. To give meat to one in a swoon is aU
one aa to put meat into the mouth of a dead man ; the vitals in one are
extinct, in the other oppressed and languishing, and unable to perform their
office. This excitation and exercise cannot conveniently be without an
antecedent preparation and examination. In tbe case of the body, it is the
work of nature ; in the case of the soul, it is the act of the mind and wUl
quickened by grace. The excitation of grace in the aoul is not as natural
as that of the concoctive faculty in the body, which ia done without any act
of our mind, as our breathing is. This will revive graces, which seem to he
buried under ashes, into a flame, and rouse up holy principles that lay dor
mant in a bed of laziness.
(3.) It ia necessary to prevent sin. The apostle's direction to them to
examine themselves, imphes the want of it tb be the cause of thoae miscar
riages among them, which he taxeth in the preceding verses. After he had
shewn them the danger, ver. 27, the guilt of the body and blood of Christ,
he adds, ' But let a man examine himaelf To prevent the sin of unworthy
receiving, and the danger accruing, let a man examine himself. As if he
should have said, had this duty been practised, Christ would have had more
guests and fewer executioners of him at his table. If this were always prac
tised, none would dare (as too m^tny in the world do) to approach the Lord's
table only with a design to wipe off thefr old scores ; and, upon a presump
tion that their consciences are cleared of their former debts, begin the same
sins afresh with more ease. Aa those in the poet,* who besprinkled them
selves with the water sacred to Mercury, and begged of him that they might
more securely cheat and cozen hereafter. This is to offer a sacrifice with a
wicked mind, Prov. xxi. 27 ; to bring devUs to God's table to grow up into
a legion afterwards ; to make buds of sin to be full blown, which a serious
and careful examination would prevent. Melting affectiona and an hungry
sense are the fruits of this work, and antidotes against encroaching tempta
tions. 2. As it is necessary, so it is universal. ' Let a man examine himself.'
Not some men, but every man. The most substantial Christian, as well as
the weakest, or one that lies drowned still in the deluge of the fall. All the
Corinthians were not spots in the feast, certainly some were free from the
common taint. If there be a Judas in Christ's family, the rest of the apostles
were holy ; there ia also an Elijah, and seven thousand more that have not
bowed their knees to Baal, in the time of Israel's apostasy. Yet the apostle
excludes none from this duty. ' Let a man examine himself,' i. e. every man.
Gracious men are best fitted for this work of self-examination. They should
not only consider whether they have the habits of grace, but whether the
prints of the Spirit be as plain as when they were first stamped ; whether
their grace be in such a plight and posttjre fit to meet the Lord Jesus in his
great institution. A nobleman, when he comes to his prince's table, doth not
only reflect upon hia quality, kindred, and relation, but whether he hath a
garb suitable to the. presence ofhis sovereign. A behever in habit may want
the act of faith ; and partaking of the supper in such a posture, receive a
frown instead of a smile, and bear away a mark of Christ'a anger instead of
a badge of his favour. Some of the good Corinthians, because of their care
lessness in this, fell under God's stroke, had weaknesses and sicknesses sent
among them, and some seized upon by death, which is called a chastisement,
a temporal judgment, distinct from the condemnation of the carnal world,
* Ovid Fast. lib. v.

1 Coe. XI. 28, 29.] THE subjects op the loed's suppee. 451
ver. 80, 82, ' For thia cause many are weak and sickly among you, and many
sleep. When we are judged, we are chastened of the Lord, that we should
not be condemned with the world.' God intending by this means to reduce
them to their duty, and a reverence conformable to his institution, he chas
tised them with the goodneaa of a father, that he might not condemn them
with the rigours of a judge. Uzziah, a good king, as well as Uzzah, a good
man, may be too bold with holy thinga, and may suffer a temporal punish
ment, while freed from an eternal judgment. Every man ia his own governor,
and ought to ride circuit in his soul to make inquisition, and set up a tri
bunal in his own boaom, and cite himaelf before it. We muat not only
examine whether we have a wedding-garment, but also whether it be well
kept and brushed ; whether no moths be got into it, no new spots dashed
upon it. A rich robe may be sometimes so besmeared and daubed with mire,
that none of the gold-lace upon it may be visible, till cleansed. Gracea are
to be purified, as well as sins purged out ; grace, as well as metal, for want
of rubbing and exercise, will gather rust. The act of grace ia as necessary
to a partaking the fruit of this ordinance, as the habit of grace ia to a right
to glory. There being, therefore, to be a special exerciae of faith, repent
ance, affection to Chriat, theae gracea are to be awakened and quickened by
a self-reflection. But of this I have spoke before.
I shall only mention two thinga.
1. Let a man examine himaelf, aa to his aentimenta concerning the nature
of the institution. The apostle intimates it in the motive he urgeth to press
this examination : ver. 29, ' For he that eata and drinks unworthily, eats and
drinks judgment to himself, not discerning the Lord's body.' Where he
chargeth the not discerning the Lord's body, upon the neglect of this.'* We
must consider what an holy and glorioua use those elements are destined to,
and the glorious body of our Lord, which they represent, that we may not
violate in the signs the honour due to his majesty. To discern the Lord's
body, ia to consider it as the body of the Son of God,f of God blessed for
ever, the sovereign Lord of the whole world, the body of the Lamb who takea
away the sins of the world, a miracle of goodness, the pavilion of the Sun of
righteousness, the pledge of believers entering into heaven, a body purer than
the heavens in holiness, and higher than the heavens in glory. Consider the
design of this body : It was to be a sacrifice for the world, an expiation of
sin, the ligature of the church to God ; it hath been loaded with our crimes,
and borne the punishment of our sins upon the cross ; it hath undergone the
chastisement of our peace ; it hath been the purchase of our peace, the price
of our liberty, the cause of our life ; it bowed down upon the cross to pur
chase our happinesa, and mounted up to heaven to inaure it to ua, and pos
sess it for us. The death of thia body was of universal influence to expiate
our sina, the reaurrection of this body was for the justification of our persona ;
it sunk into the grave loaden with our guilt, it rose out of the grave and
ascended to heaven to be invested with an inconceivable immortality for our
consolation. Angels cannot behold it without admiring our happiness, God
cannot behold it without wiping out the sins of a believer, upon the account
of the sufferings it underwent ; he cannot cast his eye upon it without remem
bering what, and for what it suffered. It is thia body crucified, but now
glorified, this Chriat dying, but now living for ever, which the elements
represent to us, and that as a sacrifice, not as suffering an ordinary death.
We must therefore discem the gift God presents us with, as greater than if
* Amyraut Paraphr.
t Daille Melange des Sermons, Serm, xxviii, pp, 300-302, somewhat changed, but
imitated.

452 chabnock's woeks. [1 Cob. XI. 28, 29.

he gave ua the whole world, aince the Creator, who infinitely surpasseth the
creature, givea us his Son, and himself in his Son. How can we have fnU
and clear sentiments of thia, vrithout rousing np our minda, fixing our consi
derations upon it, and reflecting upon ouraelves, whether we underatand the
nature of thoae mysteries, the deaign of the death of hia body, and the glo
rioua end of ita reaurrection ? We cannot, without it, have a faith, love, and
devotion answerable to the greatness of the things which our Saviour hath
done and suffered in this body for us.
2. Let a man examine himself what soil he hath contracted since the last
time he was with God ; whether the interest of God hath prevailed in our
hearts above the interest of the flesh, or whether some secret luat hath not
apread its wing and increaaed ita empire, which may have strength to way
lay the benefits we expect, and be as a wall of separation between the supplies
of God and tbe wants of our hearts. We must enquire what violations there
have been of the covenant we made before, and bewail them : he is not fit to
renew a covenant with God who is careless of the former breaches of it. Dust
will be contracted in a house if it be not daily swept : our houses are swept
and cleansed more solemnly bofore the coming of inrited guests. Do we in
vite Christ into our souls, and shall we not examine every corner, and search
out the dfrt and cobwebs which may be offensive to him ? The Spirit of
Christ is a dove, and doves love clean places. The Jews, before the passover,
searched every hole and chink with a candle for any leaven that might he
hid, and threw it away as a thing to be abominated. Have we not much
reaaon to inquire what old leaven hath swelled up our souls, find it out, and
manifest our hatred of it ? whether we have not stored up some new nails,
new spears, new gall which may afflict our Saviour, and be as bitter to him
as the crucifixion ; whether anything hath crept in to impair our affections
to God. The nature of the ordinance requires this inquisition. Filth ia not
fit for a feast. We look what dirt there ia upon our hands before we take
what is neceasary for our ordinary repast. A Belial in the heart, and Christ
at a banquet, have no alliance. A careleasness whether we are defiled or no
is inconsistent with this feast ; and if any trash be got into our stomachs,
it may hinder our spiritual appetite, and a hearty feeding upon Christ. Let
that be the matter then of a good man's inquiry, whether he hath kept to
God as hia aovereign, to Christ aa hia Saviour, and to the Holy Ghost aa his
comforter; whether grace hath attained more atrength and ain more weak
ness ; whether the soul be more straitly or loosely within the bonds of
the covenant. And indeed true grace is like the angel of God's presence,
which conducted the Israelites to Canaan ; it will not countenance any in
truding lust, or pardon any iniquity, though it will beg God's pardon for it.
These two inquiries are necessary to every man that hath habitual grace and
fitness for this ordinance.
But, 8. We ahould enquire whether we have habitual grace or no ; whether
there be those uniting glowing graces,* faith and love. He that comes to
the supper without faith, saith good Mr Tindall, is like a man that thinks to
quench his thirst by sucking the ale-bowl. It is but a piece of bread we re
ceive without faith, the symbol of the body of Christ without the soul and
Spirit of Christ ; and so we have no more advantage by the ordinance than
the Jews which crucified Christ would have had, if they had eaten of his flesh
and drunk of the blood which then issued from hia body, or than the beasts
had whioh drank of the rock (which typified Christ) as well as the congre
gation. Num. XX. 11 1 Cor. x. 4, which had no more benefit by it than if
* As D. Preston calls them.

1 CoB. XI. 28, 29.] THE subjects op the loed's suppee. 458
they had drunk of any ordinary water. There must be an inward grace as
well as an outward ordinance to have a spiritual benefit. Plagues come out
of the temple, Rev. xv. 7, great judgments from ordinances carelessly and
sinfully used. The word is the savour of death unto some, aa well as the
savour of hfe to others. Habitual gr.ace there muat be ; a perfection of grace
is not required ; if so, then none but the innocent angels and glorified saints
were fit guests. The perfectest soul indeed is not too good a vessel to receive
the Lord of life ; but God requires only of us a disposition of heart suitable to
the design of the ordinance : a deep senae of our miaery, a lively Borrow for
our crimes, a hearty embracing his Son, a strong resolution to be at enmity
with sin, and at peace with God. It muat be a diligent trial, aa we would try
metala by tbe fire. We may eaaily be deceived, and think that to be the
echo of the Spirit, which ia but the hissing of the serpent,* and the whispers
of Satan.
The great grace which you should search for is faith.
We shall lay down some signs of it :
1. Negatively.
j 2. Positively.
1. Negatively.
(1.) Faith is not a general acceptation of Christ or profession of him.
Many men'a faith is built only upon human tradition, education, or the laws
of a nation. Men's hving in a Christian commonwealth, and owning the
Christian religion upon a secular account, is no evidence of faith, because
what is entertained upon the score of interest, will, upon the change of interest,
be as soon cashiered as it was embraced. The ten tribes in Solomon's time
professed the legal and temple worship ; but after Jeroboam had set up the
calves at Dan and Bethel, they were as superstitious in the observing of them,
which is evident by the complaints of the prophets, especially of Hosea,
throughout his whole Prophecy. They were not forced to it so much by
Jeroboam as willingly revolted from God : Hosea v. 11, ' They willingly
walked after the commandment,' i.e. after the commandment to worship the
calves. So easily are the vulgar induced to step into the religion of authority,
and make anything a God that their riiler would have ao, though it be a calf
Faith ia an act of the freeat choice, not a disposition which is derived by in
heritance and succession from generation to generation, as it is with people
who willbe of the aame ways of their fathers ; but it ia a free election of Chriat
upon a sight of hia excellency.
(2.) Nor is it a dognaatical faith, whereby we believe the truth of the Scrip
tures, and the divine authority of them. Indeed, there must be a knowledge
of Christ, what he hath done and what he hath suffered, else there is no
taking of him as God presents him. True faith is never without this know
ledge, though this knowledge and assent seems to be often without true faith.
There may be a faith to beheve that Chriat is the Son of God, without a faith
to embrace him ; there may be an ointment poured upon the head, which
doth not, as Aaron's, run down to the akirta of the garment, to the heart and
affectiona. Many may aasent to the truth of a proposition that Christ is ex
cellent and lovely, who never bring their will to conaent to eapouse him ; and
by a bare knowledge there is not an union to Christ, any more than by a sight
and knowledge of a star there is an union with that star. Some scriptures
seem to place faith in assent in the judgment of some : 1 John iv. 2, ' Every
spirit that confesseth that Jesus Christ is come in the flesh is of God ;' 1 Cor.
xii. 3, ' No man can say that Jesus is the Lord, but by the Holy Ghost.' The
apostle John in that gives only the note of a true teacher as to matter of
¦* Culverwell.

454 chabnock's wobks. [1 Cob. XI. 28, 29.
doctrine, viz. if he assertsthat Chriat ia come in the flesh, ia the true Messiah,
the Son of God, and righteous. And the other place speaks of the gifts of
the Spirit, not of the inward grace : the assenting to Christ that he is Lord
is a gift of the Spirit by a common Ulumination. And indeed in that age,
an assent to a new, vilified, and persecuted doctrine, was a greater testimony
of faith than the highest external professions can be in the age wherein we
live. An assent is the first step, but if it be not an approving, efficacious
assent that overpowers the will, it is no more than a condemned devil may
have. ' Putting on Christ,' Rom. xiii. 14 ; ' leaning upon God,' Isa. 1. 10 ;
believing in Christ imphes more than a naked assent, which is expressed
well enough by a believing God or believing Christ.
(8.) Nor is it a temporary joy in the doctrine of the gospel that is true
faith. This is higher than the former, the other being a glow-worm light in
the understanding, and thia a flashy heat in the affections, and a joy in the
matter revealed. Mat. xiii. 20. The seed that was received into stony places
was ' received with joy,' which may be occasioned by the novelty of a thing,
the suitableness of it to aome interest or carnal affection upon some present
necessity. Such have often been seen to revolt again. It ia as a man's taking
a servant whom he puts off again, or as the sending for a physician in a pre
sent fit, and rejoicing at his coming, and putting him off after some ease when
the distemper is removed.
(4.) Nor is it a presumptuous persuasion of a secure and happy state. Many
men's faith is a mere presumption. They take it for granted that they have
faith, feed themaelves with an empty conceit, without making an exact scrutiny,
and bringing it to the touchstone of the word to try whether it be faith of the
right kind. If faith were a persuasion of a man's salvation, then all that
have not this persuasion are' not believers ; and then many a gracious pil
grim in this world, who have lived many years without it, or with a few glim-
meringa of hope, would be excluded from that rank wherein he standa in the
account of God. If it were only a persuasion, none of the ' children of the
kingdom' (as Christ calls them. Mat. viii. 12, those that live within the pale
of the church) can be cast into utter darkness. For the command of be
lieving would be no more than the commanding a man to be persuaded that
his sins are pardoned, which would be the easiest thing in the world to a
carnal heart. And God would command an untruth contrary to his word, if
he commanded us to believe that our sins are pardoned, before we have those
qualifications which are by the word requisite to the passing a pardon to us.
Faith is not an assurance, much less a common persuasion. Faith is our
victory, assurance the triumph ; faith is an act of the whole soul, assurance
of the mind only ; faith consists in a direct act, assurance in a reflex act.
Faith is not a proud persuasion, for then one in arms against his Creator
might be aaved in that state, with his presumptuous confidence, aa well as that
soul that liea claaping the promises and embracing the precepts.
But, 2. Positively, true faith may be evidenced,
(1.) In regard of the object.
[I.J It is a taking Christ. The act of faith on Chriat is as a marriage
act. Marriage is an act between person and person : ' My beloved is mine,
and I am his,' Cant. i. 16. The union between the soul and Christ is a
spiritual union of persons, as in marriage, to which it ia compared, Hos. iii.
8. The benefits by Christ are consequent upon it, as the estate follows
marriage. The peraon of Christ is the object of faith ; the promise is the
encouragement to faith.
[2.] Taking Christ as Christ, aa appointed and anointed by God, as
coming out from God : John xvi. 27, ' Ye beheve that I came out from God.

1 COe. XI. 28, 29.] THE subjects of the loed's suppee. 455
'Faith standa by the croas of Christ, beholds him bruiaed by the Father for
sin, and ventures upon Chriat, because the Father hath aet him out as a
propitiation. If Chriat be made ain for ua, we must receive Christ aa one
that takea our sins upon him from the date of the covenant hetween God
and him concerning redemption : as the aaints of old looked upon him as
taking sin upon him, and then slain, which waa set forth in their aacrifices,
laying their sins upon the head of the beast before it was slain, and in the
Boape-goat, whereon thefr transgressions were put before he was sent into
the wilderness. Lev. xvi. 21. Thia is one of the principal things faith doth
eye ; for what warrant, what comfort, what encouragement to accept of
Christ, were it not for this, that the offended God hath appointed him the
Redeemer, and hia death the way of reatoration ?
[3.] Taking Christ entirely, and that upon his own terms ; to cleave to
the crosa and bear his yoke, as a prince and as a saviour ; taking him as
God hath exalted him, Acts v. 81. Where Christ saves as a priest, he rules
as a lord, and directs aa a prophet. We are expoaed to wrath by the guilt
of sin, Christ is a priest to expiate it ; we are captives to the power of sin,
Christ ia a king to aubdue it; we are ignorant both of our misery and
remedy, Christ is a prophet to dispel the fogs of our ignorance. If we will
be under the power of sin, we must be under the guilt of sin; if we will keep
our sins, Christ will keep his blood, and be no Sariour to them that vrill
be servants to their lusts. In the work of faith, the soul feels the guilt of
sin to burden it, and accepts Christ to satiafy for it. It sees the filth of sin
that grieves it, and accepts Christ to purge it. It ia sensible of armies of
sin which overrun it, and fresh recruits from indwelling corruption, and
accepts Christ to conquer them ; and such a faith gives glory to God, for by
receiving Christ to satisfy for the guilt, it owns the justice of God which
hath been provoked ; by complying with the directions of Christ for walking
in the ways of God, it honours the holiness of God, which it had before
rilified ; by bringing all the corruptions to be subdued by the royal authority
of Christ, it acknowledges the power and sovereignty of God, against which
it had before rebelled. It accepts Christ upon his own terms.
First. To serve him. Faith eyes Christ as dying, and eyes the end of
Christ's dying. What was Christ's end in dying must be our end in receiv
ing him. The great end was to ' redeem a people to himself,' i.e. to his
service, a people ' zealous of good works,' Titua ii. 14 ; not only to do good
works, but perform them with a zeal for the Redeemer. Faith hath always
a holy ingenuity. To pay a service to him that hath paid the ransom, and
lay out its strength for him from whom it hath received the mercy ; to own
no other Lord but him from whom it hath received the soul, the life, and
aU that it hath and hopes for. Faith takea Christ for a Lord, not to change
him or barter him away for any other maater ; to perform the duties required,
as well aa to enjoy the dignities offered.
Secondly. To be aaved by him. Many men would take Christ as a
Saviour, but not upon hia own terma ; they would join aomething elae with
him ; they would have Christ and salvation, but in their own way, that
some glory may be ascribed to their endeavours, to the works of the law
done by them : but faith is a wiUingness to be saved in Christ's way, merely
by his grace. Faith is the band of marriage on our parts, marriage is but
to one ; since nothing is so excellent as Christ, he wiU have no rival. The
bed of Christ must be kept undefiled. True faith, which worka by love, is
so ingenuous that it wiU never rob Christ of the honour he paid so dear for,
and thereby own him but aa an half and imperfect Saviour. It wiU not stand
before God by any other claim than that of Christ.

456 chabnock's wobks. [1 Cob. XI. 28, 29.

[4.] Taking Christ's righteousneaa ia the formal act of it. Faith puts a
value upon the righteousness of Christ, and after a deep sense of sin, sings i
in a triumphant manner : Isa. xiv. 24, ' In the Lord have I righteousness
and strength.' Thia righteousness ia entertained by true faith, because by
it the God whom the soul entirely loves is exalted in aU hia attributes.
Saving ' faith works by love ' to God, Gal. v. 6 ; and therefore, as it is
deeply sensible of sin, because it offends God, so it cheerfully accepts the
righteousness of Christ, because it is acceptable and delightful to God.
Love to God bubbles up in every act of faith : for since faith brings us to
God, it bringa us to affect that God ; and it ia as impoaaible faith can act
without love, as that a man can work without hands. The apostle, Philip.
iii. 9, desires to be ' found in that righteousness which is through the faith
of Christ, the righteousness which is of God by faith,' values the righteous
neas of Christ, because it waa the righteousness of God by faith ; so that
this righteousnesa of Christ is entertained by a true believer, because it is a
righteousness which doth infinitely please God. As in the pleadings of this
righteousness for itself, it useth the pleaaure of God as an argument, so in
the acceptance of it, it eyes it as a motive. And were there anything in the
world that a believing soul could think it should honour God more, or please
God better in, than in relying on Christ, it would do that. AU true grace
levels the intentions to the glory and delight of God.;|
(2.) Consider it in regard of the adjuncts of it.
[1.] It is a mourning and penitent faith. The atrongeat feith ia so. The
stronger the faith, the deeper the sense of sin. Paul cries sorrowfully out,
' Who shall deliver me from the body of this death ? ' after he had closed
with Christ by faith. It is the work of faith to keep alive upon the heart
the sense of the guilt, filth, and evil of sin, to make the soul have vUe
thoughts of itself, and high thoughts of its deliverer. When the law of faith
is in the heart, the heart of stone is turned into a heart of flesh, and the
lion-like dispoaition becomea lamb-hke, and as a child before God. The
horror of conscience is removed by the sunshine of faith ; but the sense of
the guilt and filth of sin is increased by the light of it. Abraham had the
strongest faith and the deepest humility. How self-abasingly doth he plead
with God for Sodom's safety, and receive the promise from God with his
mouth in the dust : Gen. xvii. 8, ' And Abraham fell on his face, and God
talked vrith him.' And is it not impossible for any believing soul to reflect
upon the agonies, wounds, and dying groana of Christ, and his own vileness
and sin for which Chriat did undergo them, and not be filled with a godly
Borrow and self abhorrency ? A proud faith ia as great a contradiction as
an humble devil.
[2.] It is joined with a high esteem and valuation of Christ. The soul
prefers him in the mind and judgment above anything that can pretend a
claim to its affection ; it sets such a rate upon him, that all the treasures of
heaven and earth cannot work it out of that esteem : 1 Pet. ii. 7, ' To you
which believe, he is precious ; ' but how precious, the tongue of an apostle,
no, not of an angel, can expresa. So precious he is, that the promises of
angels, the threatenings of devils, the allurements of the world, the pleasures
of sin, yea, and the hopes of enjoying ten thousand worlds, shaU never per
suade him to part with Christ. Alas ! there is no loss dejects him so much
as hia absence, no purchase dehghts him so much as his presence. The
weakest faith can appeal to Christ, ' Lord, thou knowest that I love thee,'
would love thee, grieve that I can love thee no more. Faith and love are
the two uniting graces, and therefore cannot be separated. To an unbeliever
he is without beauty and comeliness, nothing desfrable in him ; to othera he

1 CoE. XI. 28, 29.] the subjects op the loed's suppee. 457
is a pearl of great price, the head of the comer. Faith only sees the worth
of Christ. It is joined also with high admirationa of God for Christ, aston
ishments at the riches of grace and treasures of love. It works by love ;
it makes use of this affection to carry ont all its services to God with thank
fulness. The love of God is as a law within the heart of faith, which makes
it return to God, as well as receive from him ; and it can receive nothing
without glorifying the donor.
[8.] It is accompanied with hohness ; it is therefore caUed a holy faith,
Jude 20. It must have holineaa aa a concomitant, though not holiness as an
ingredient in the justifying act. Faith engrafts the aoul into Christ, the
root of holiness, and it draws from him sap for holiness. Our implanting
into Christ, is rather to make us fruitful, than to make ua joyful. Actions
follow life, and actiona of the aame kind with that life which the creature
hath ; as vegetative life produceth vegeltative actiona, aenaitive life sensitive
actions, a rational hfe rational actions, so a spiritual, believing life, apiritual
and believing actiona. Faith is not a name, a picture, but a real principle ;
it is a working grace, and therefore obedience is called ' the obedience of
faith,' Heb. xi. 8. Faith doth not only change a man's state, but alters his
nature ; hence we are aaid to be purified by faith, Aots xxvi. 18. As it goes
forth to Christ, it is justifying ; as it bathes itself in the blood of Christ, it
is sanctifying. Education may wash the feet, but faith only washeth the
. heart. As we were in Adam, members of that corrupt root, we do partake
of his guilt and of his filth. Being united to Christ, the second Adam, we
partake of his righteouanesa and hia fulneas. It is a counterfeit faith which
pretends to partake of the righteouaness of Christ without a communication
of the fulnesa of hia grace. True faith employs the power of Christ in the
subduing of sin. It is a fruit of the Spirit, and the Spirit doth not produce
one fruit without the rest. It ia the root grace, the root ia dead if it have
no branches, no fruit. Faith is aeated in the heart, and spreads itaelf to the
whole man and all the actiona, as lines from the centre. It begins in the
understanding, but hath its perfection in the will, descends to the affections ;
sends, like the soul, its influences out through the whole man. Though it
be weak, it will have its motion. If it cannot go to heaven, it will cry to
heaven. The remark Chriat makea of Paul, an infant believer, ia, ' Behold,
he praya,' Acts ix. 11 ; as if he did not pray before in the time of bis infi
dehty. His prayer now was of another colour and temper from his self-
righteous, formal, cold praying before.
[4.] It is attended with growth. It ia atill climbing, and cannot get high
enough till it end in vision. True faith is always joined with prayer against
unbelief It increaseth in its acts, and in the frequency and vigour of them.
It first sucks the breast, and afterwards can chew the manna ; it is looking
much and often upon Christ. It is at first accompanied with tremblings ;
' it may be God may hear me ' and supply me ; afterwards it comea more
boldly, and loves to look Chriat in the face. And there ia a growth in all
gracea proportionable ; for where there is life, all the members grow, the
head doth not grow in knowledge, and the heart decay in love.*
(3.) Consider it in the manner how it ia wrought. The word worka faith
and preserves faith, and faith improvea the word. It is not a gourd which
grows up in a night ; there is much tugging to persuade the soul to venture
upon Chriat. Great power would not create a world in a moment, but took
time ; great power doth not produce faith in an inatant ; there are prepara
tions and conflicta before the hand of faith laya hold on a Saviour. And it
may be said, as Isaac to his son. If thia be venison, how camest thou by it
* Dr Eeynolds.

458 chabnock's wobks. [1 Coe. XI. 28, 29.
so quickly ? If this be faith, how camest thou by it so suddenly, without
much travail and labour ? The word is the aeed, the Spirit the aun that
quickena it. By the word, the Spirit discovers the vileness of a man's nature,
the sinfulness of sin, the fulness of Christ, and the freeness of his righteous
ness. By the word, the Spirit opens our eyes to see our nakedness and
misery ; the word proclaims the articles of peace, silenceth our reasonings,
answers our objections, stops the mouth of a cavilling sinner, justifies the
terms upon which Chriat doth offer himself It ia not a birth of nature, but
by the operation of the Holy Spirit. That Spirit that conceived Christ in the
womb of the virgin, doth produce faith in the womb of the soul ; so that faith
and Christ are produced by the same Spirit, by the same power, by the Spirit
that conceived him, by the power that raised him from the dead.
As there is a necessity of faith in the habit, ao there is a necessity of the
acting of faith in this ordinance. God will have our recovery in a way con
trary to that of our fault ; the fall was by believing the devil rather than
God ; and God will have our recovery by believing God rather than the
devil. By the ordination of God, there is as great a necessity of faith to
partake of Chriat at a sacrament, as there is of Christ to make a sacrament
beneficial to us. ^
|1.] Faith ia of abaolute necessity to regeneration, and only regenerate
ones have a right to this ordinance. Faith is a radical vital grace ; as blood
in the veins is to the body, so is faith to the soul. No regeneration without
the Spirit, and faith is the first grace the Spirit infuseth ; no regeneration
without the blood of Christ, and faith is the hyssop which sprinkles that
blood upon our souls. Faith engrafts ua ^nto Christ, whereas before we
grew upon a dead stock ; it is from Christ, who is life, that life is derived
to us, and that by faith : Gal. ii. 20 ' I hve by the faith of the Son of God.'
We have no right to the ordinance till we have faith ; this only makes us
members of God's family. Till we are his children, we have nothing to do
with his table ; they are as carcases that want faith, and what should car
cases do with meat ?
[2.] In aU worship faith is to be acted, much more in this. As in worldly
actions we stir up the faculties of our souls, and tbe members of our bodies,
so in acts of worship we must stir up the graces of the Spirit. Faith must
mix itself with every duty : ' Whatsoever is not of faith, is sin,' Rom.
xiv. 23. It comes from corrupt nature, or refined nature, not from renewed
and changed nature ; so, instead of a welcome, we can expect to be enter
tained only with cloudy looks. To come to this ordinance without faith,
is to draw water without a bucket, to work without tools, and to go to
market without money. There is need of faith to give us admission into
God's presence, Heb. x. 22. There is need of faith to give us acceptance.
[3.] Faith is the condition of the covenant of grace, the seal on our part,
as the sacrament is on God's part. No other grace hath God culled out to
make the condition of the new covenant, and indeed no other .grace hath
such a congruity and suitableness to that end as this. Whenj two parties
are fallen out, there can be no firm peace without mutual consent. God
gives his consent by offering his Son and sacraments as a seal^ we give our
consent by faith only, whereby we own, approve of, and lay hold on the
mercy set before us. There is no benefit by anything in the world, but by
accepting and receiving. The altar is a sanctuary, but men must lay hold
on the horns of it. There are citiea of refuge for some sort of malefactors,
but they must run to them. God sets forth Christ as a propitiation, as a
treasure of mercy ; there can then be no renewing the covenant, unless as

1 COE. XI. 28, 29.] THE SUBJECTS OP THE LOBd's SUPPEB. 459
God on the one hand reacheth out his mercy, so we on the other hand put
forth our hearts to receive it.
[4.] Chriat in thia ordinance is represented as the object of faith. The
serpent, as lifted up, was the object of the Israelites' sight, and upon that
they were to expect healing from it ; so Christ aa dying is the primary and
immediate object of faith. And being here represented as dying, it is not a
naked representation, but that we may exercise faith upon him under that
notion. It is not Christ as glorious, but as cracified, is the object of faith ;
for as glorious, he is rather the object of love : but the formalis ratio of
justification is Christ, as taking upon him the form of a servant, and becom
ing obedient to death upon the cross. In this sacrament Christ is represented
as offering himself to God, and God offering that Christ to us ; Christ's pay
ment in performing the righteousness whereby we are justified, and God's
accepting and imputing it to us. Christ's dying was intended by God as
the object of faith when he set him out upon the crosa, Rom. iii. 25. And
now he aets him out in the aacrament, there ia the same reason for faith ;
and he is here represented more familiar to our faith than the person of the
Father, than the person of the Son of God in heaven, that we may have
more distinct thoughts and apprehensions of him in all the business he
did transact between the Father and us, which are the fuel to our faith.
As he was set out in sacrifices under the Old Testament, that those that
then lived might exercise their faith in the promised Messiah, so in the
sacraments of the New Testament, that we may exercise our faith in the ex
hibited Messiah.
The second grace to examine ouraelves about, and to exercise at this
ordinance, is sorrow for sin.
This is neceasary to the supper. The way to an heavenly repast, as well
as the way to heavenly mansions, is ' through the valley of Baca.'
1. It is necessary to that which ia required to the supper. It ia neces
sary to every duty ; all approaches to God without it are but impudent
rushings into his presence ; repentance is sanguis anima, the blood of the
soul. As no sacrifice waa pleasing under the law without blood, so no
service under the gospel is pleasing without this. Nay, it is the soul of all
the rest ; hence a broken heart is said to be above all sacrificea : Ps. li. 16,
17, ' Thou desirest not sacrifice, else would I give it, thou delightest not
in burnt-offering. Tbe sacrifices of God are a broken spirit.' God had
appointed no sacrifice for presumptuous sins, but brokenness and contrition
was of force. We perform duties most lively, when a sense of sin is kept
alive upon our hearts. The viler thoughts we have of ourselves, the higher
thoughts we have of God. There is nothing so much honours God in
duties as an humble address. But in this it is very necessary that we may
with a broken frame suit God's apprehensions of sin in the punishment of
his Son, and Christ's apprehensions of it when he breathed out his dying
groans. To be hard and insensible, then, is a sad sign of a distempered
heart. The blood of our souls ou^ht in a way of gratitude to be bestowed
upon him, who hath bestowed upon us the blood of his body. As Mary
washed the feet of Christ as a preparation to his death, we ought to do the
like in a preparation to the shewing forth his death.
(1.) It is necessary to that state and frame of heart which every person
ought to be in. Faith, indeed, is the condition of the new covenant, but
repentance is a necessary ingredient ; faith and brokenness join handa to
gether in their beings and exercises. The matter of the new creation is a
heart of flesh, which cannot be without a tenderness in the concerns of
God's honour. The new nature cannot be vrithout new affection, and a

460 ohaenock's wobks. [1 Cob. XI. 28, 29.
change of old sympathies into new antipathies. An insensible soul hath no
spiritual life ; a living member will feel pain. It is necessary to atrong
breathings after God ; the humbleat aouls have the quickest flights heaven
ward. The fowls were created at first out of the water. Gen. i. 20 ; bo are
our winged desirea from a flood of holy sorrow.
(2.) It ia necesaary to tbe enda of thia ordinance.
[1.] Exerciae and increase of grace. One end is to break the soul and the
sin, and therefore there should be a preparation by repentance for such an
end. If the soul be weU heated before, a look of a dying Chriat in the
supper will melt it, and aet the metal a running. There ia in this ordinance
the love and juatice of God represented, folded in one another's arms ; the
strength of them single will do much, much more united. If we have not
then a disposition to melt, we shall be more hardened, as things are by the
sun that have no inclination in their nature to be softened. The end of
this ordinance is to wound and slay sin by the power of Christ's death ; and
sin mourned for lies more naked to the stroke. than when it is folded and
sheltered in our affections. We come to have clearer and deeper impres
sions from God ; and softened wax receives clearer and deeper stamps than
that which is hard. Every grace receives a fresh verdure by a stream of
repentance ; the fruitfuUest meadows have constant streams running through
them. God's end is to repreaent to us tbe bitterness of sin, as well as his
love in Christ ; and, indeed, without a sense of the former, we cannot have
a right estimate of the latter. What God aimed at in the death of Christ,
he aimed at in the representation of it to us ; and a part of our worthy
receiving consists in our having suitable affections to Christ ; and we cannot
be affected with his sufferings unless we understand the gall and wormwood
in iniquity. The bitterness of sin makes us taste the sweetness of pardon ;
mercy would be too cheap if given to an impenitent aoul. While the taste
of sin, the onions of Egypt, is in the heart, it will not relish tbe clusters of
Canaan. We should have a auitableneaa to our Master. Christ is here
represented as a man of Borrows, as one that with prayers, tears, and strong
cries obtained an answer, and with blood obtained redemption ; it is not fit
we should be strangers to our Master's temper and disposition, and hug the
spear in our souls that pierced his heart.
[2.] Comfort ia another end, and communicationa of the love of God;
and this ia not to be had without repentance. The dejected, humble pub
lican meets with God sooner in the temple than the flourishing Pharisee
that rushed in. The aun refresheth the earth when it ia softened by rain,
but otherwise doth parch and scorch it. God will not smile upon persons
hugging their sina at a aacrament. The wine of consolation is reserved by
God for drooping apirits. Job muat 'abhor himself in dust and ashes'
before God vrill receive him. Job xiii. 6. Though he is aa wiUing aa able to
revive the spfrit, yet not tiU it be humble, Isa. Ivii. 15, 17. The fatted
calf ia not slain, nor to be eaten, till the prodigal be penitent. The lowest
apprehenaiona of a man'a aelf are accompanied with the highest revelations.
Moaea and Paul were humble : the one a mourner for his own and the sins
of the people, the other a great self-accuser, and both had the highest com
munications. If we would have a plaster, there must be a- cutting off the
> dead flesh. Mary was bathed in teara when ahe heard that comfortable
voice, ' Thy sins he forgiven thee,' Luke vii. 48. Dark coloura are the best
ground for gilding. If we therefore have a slight humiliation, only a little
pang of sorrow, we may meet with a wound instead of a plaster, and instead
of balm be put upon a rack. We must cry peccami, before God will return
an Euge. The soul that is most humble hath the first sight of God at the

1 Cob. XL 28, 29.] the subjects of the loed's suppee. 461
supper. It wiU make ua prize comfort. That soul that thinks itself a dog
will be sure to value a crumb. Repentance makes us have low thoughts of
ourselves and our own deserts, and high admirations of Christ. When such
an one meets with apiritual comforts at a supper, what wondering will there
he ! That I that did not deserve a smile, should have an embrace ! I that
did not deserve a drop, should lose myself in an ocean ! Oh, that I that
deserved to be damned with a witness, should meet with a seal of his love !
that for tbe flamea of hell, he ahould give me the cluatera of heaven ! A
deep aenae of ain is the most powerful rhetoric to prevail with God. He
would deny Abraham nothing, when he prefaced his intercession for Sodom
with ' I am dust and ashes,' Gen. xviii. 27. The comforts of Chriat's
blood are not dropped into, nor can they enter into, a heart that cannot
weep and bleed for ain.
Since repentance is necessary, let us examine ourselves what of this grace
there is in us.
(1.) What is the spring of our sorrow? Whether it be ingenuous, from
a senae of what we have received from God, aa well as what we have
deserved at his hands ; whether it is a scorched sorrow from a sense of the
fire of justice, or a melting sorrow from the kindly heat of mercy. The
father's kind reception made his prodigal son's icy heart thaw the faster :
' I have sinned against heaven and before thee,' Luke xv. 18. The prodigal
is the emblem of the Gentiles, and their call to God and repentance towards
him, whioh must be, because they have displeased him. Without a true
s|)ring, our cries and groans are of as little value as the howling of wild
beasts in a toil. It is then right, when it hath auch a temper as the prodi
gal : I have offended a kind and loving Father, wasted his goods, resisted
his Spirit, listed myself in the service of the devil ; this Father I have con
temned, a bountiful hand I have kicked at, a heaven bespangled vrith stars
of mercy I have turned my back upon. We may weep at the story of
Chriat'a paasion, when we are not really affected with our ain, tbe cause of
his sufferinga, and the displeasure of God. Our sorrow is right, when it is
not merely for sin, as it is contrary to our happiness, but aa contrary to
God's holiness. Thia ia a conformity to Christ, who mourned for the sins
of men, as well as suffered for them ; and mourned for them, not because
he suffered for them, but because God was injured by them. There was
not a grain of malice and ingratitude in ain but he understood ; he had also
a clear conception of the holiness of that God who was offended and injured
by sin ; and from those two parts of knowledge, joined with an ardent love
to his Father, and charity to man, he could not hut have the most enlarged
sorrow for sin, and the/highest detestation of it, both as it displeased God,
and as it ruined the crieature.
(2.) What is the Subject of the sorrow ; is it the sin of nature ; do
we judge that the gireitest sin^ and not regard it as the common people do
the stara, imagining them no bigger than a candle, when they are of a vast
bigness ? To bewail outward sins, and not that of our nature, is to have a
philosophical frame of spirit, not that of a Christian. Doth the body of
death draw from us the loudest groans ? Do we lay the axe to the root of
sin, or are we mightily busied in lopping off the branches, without a regard
of the root ? Are inward and spiritual sins the subject of our grief ? Can
we moum as deeply for those sins that none but God and our own con
sciences know, as for those whioh are visible to the eye of man ? Doth our
hardness of heart, formality, remainders of hypocrisy and unbehef most
afflict ua ? Is our grief for all sins, and eapecially for that which hath been
the master sin ? Do we oppose that which we have the greatest teriiptations

462 chabnock's woeks. [1 Cob. XI. 28, 29.
to, aa David had to the kiUing of Saul, which would have helped him to a
crown, which therefore he calls his iniquity ? Ps. xriii. 23, 24.* Would we
have the greatest Delilah no more spared than the smaUest brat of Babylon?
And is the enmity so great that we would destroy the power and strength of
sin which hea in that master iniquity ? Do we stop our ears against the
strongest pleaa it makes for itself and wish as much its death as we do our
hves ? This ia a testimony of repentance. Do we hate every sin beeause
it is a falseness to God ? Ps. cxix. 104.
(8.) What are the adjuncts of the grief? Is it in some measure propor
tionable to our sin, proportionable not to the law, but to the goapel ? The
first cannot be attained by us, because the injury done to God ia infinite.
What we cannot attain in the act, we should endeavour to attain in affection.
Where the sin is great, great must be the sorrow : 1 Sam. vii. 6, ' They
drew water, and poured it out before the Lord,' which aome understand of
the tears of the people. To drink in ain like water, and only to drop grief,
will not agree. Ia our sorrow permanent ; is it a true grief, or only a pang;
like heat drops or a rolling cloud, that goes away and never returns again ?
Is our sin, like David's, ever before us ? Ps. li. 3. Have not many a slight
kind of sorrow, sprung up only by the seriousness and solemnity of the
ordinance ; a seeming falling out with sin, but a quick reconciliation, and
receiving it into a atronger favour than before ? Transitory affections are
too frequent. We find the Israelites in the temple weeping and lamenting,
fasting and praying, because of their idolatries and false dealings with God,
and shortly after returning to the commission of the idolatry they had be
wailed. True repentance is always accompanied with a detestation and a
' revenge,' 2 Cor. vii. 11, which is indignation, as a furnace heated seven
times hotter, not a faint and a dying kind of anger. Is the league between
sin and the soul broken ? As God seals in this supper a covenant of grace,
we should be prepared to seal a counterpart of duty. As God is ready to
seal a pardon, not to remember our sins to condemn us ; we should be
ready to sign a bUl of divorce to sin, not to remember sin to commit it.
Love to God ia another grace we are to examine ourselves about.
There is a necessity of this.
1. Spiritual affections to God are required in all duties, much more in
thia. The highest representation of a loving Saviour suffering, ought to
have a suitable return of affection. Duties are regarded not by the multi
tude (for hypocrites may be much in doing) but by the affection ; sincere
persons are only much in loving. AU that God requires of us is summed np
into thia grace, love : Deut. x. 12, ' What doth the Lord thy God require
of thee, but to love him and serve him ? ' Men may delight to pray from a
natural eloquence, whioh is (if I may use the expreaaion) but as the trimming
of a mangy aacrifice, and delight to hear with such a kind of affection as
they would a lovely song ; but every duty ought to be kindled and inflamed
by the fire of love to God ; and a mite of service with this is better than a
talent without it. Thia expels weariness in our duties, and makes God's
injunctions our aongs. Pa. cxix. 54.
2. The object propoaed in this ordinance requires the strongest actings of
affection. (1.) Chriat is here represented as the cause of our happiness, in the
foundation of the benefits we enjoy, riz., hia humiliation, death, and paasion.
Here ia Christ undertaking our salvation upon the hardest terms ; here are
the arms of the Son of God open upon the cross, the spear reaching his
heart, with his affections streaming out to us in blood, when we were his
* Muse.

1 Cob. XI. 28, 29.] the subjects op the lobd's suppeb. 463
enemies, and had not a grain of affection to him ; and is it not fit we ahould
be prepared to cry out with holy ravishments of affection, ' Worthy is the
Lamb that was slain to receive honour and glory ' ? This affection must
needs be due to him who reversed the sentence of our condemnation, made
our peace and bore our curse, had hia hands nailed, his head pricked, his
side pierced, his heart grieved, that by those marks we might be induced to
love him. Who can challenge our affections if he cannot, who undertook
our recovery when there was but a step between us and eternal death ?
And how can we act such an affection if we be not posaessed with it ?
(2.) Christ aa appropriated to us in a way of union is here set forth.
Union to him, communion with him, both depend upon love in each party.
What can express a nearer union of Christ to the soul than to feed upon
him, eat his flesh, and drink his blood ? Thus to have him incorporated
with us, this is aa tbe breaking of a ring, the renewing of a contract between
Chriat and our souls, a prologue to the great solemnisation of the nuptials
to all eternity. Hence the entertainment Christ makes his people is set out
under the notion of a wedding supper. Mat. xrii. 3. And being thus joined
unto Christ, we are one body, yea, one spirit with him, 1 Cor. vi. 17. Now
as there can be no mystical union with Christ without faith, so there can
be no moral union with him without love. With what violence can we run
to him, how oan we be glued to him {xoXXojuiwg) without this affection ?
As Christ in this ordinance makes over himself to the believer to be his in
love, ao the believer must make over himaelf to Christ, to be his in all aer
vice, affection, and obedience.
(3.) The excellency of God'a love in Chriat ia here repreaented. Here is
God bringing hia Son from heaven to earth, from the earth to the cross,
from the crosa to the grave, making his '^rath find a passage to Christ's
heart instead of oura, pouring out hia blood to keep us from bleeding, and
liatening to the pleaa of this blood in heaven to answer the pleaa of sin
against us. This being the higheat elevation of the love of God, waa intended
to draw out our love to him. Love therefore must be answered with love,
not with enmity or a cold affection, we else run counter to the design of God.
(4.) All the promises are shewn to ua in it sealed. All the promises of
God bound up in the covenant of grace are here confirmed and ratified.
And is not thia a time for tbe love of the aoul to work ?
3. The graces to, be exercised in this ordinance depend much upon love.
Love ia the spring of the soul, which moves every grace, and therefore it is
called the ' fulfilling of the law.' Faith hath no operation but ' by love,'
Gal. V. 6. Faith and love are united, as well aa uniting, graces ; faith is the
hand, but love is as the spirita which move it. And as faith and love in
the ^habit, so in the operationa they are inseparable ; we must cleave to
Christ, and be cemented to him by faith, but love must atrengthen the
hand ; the more we love, the faster we hold. Faith is not sincere but when
it testifies itself by the operations of love. True repentance flows from
love. Mary's tears were moat free when her love waa most hot. The more
inflamed our love to God is, the stronger will be our hatred of sin as that
which ia contrary to him ; the sweeter the remembrance of Christ is to our
affections, the more bitter ia the remembrance of any offence against him ;
and indeed without it, we may see the print of the nails, and put our fingers
into his wounds without any remorse. Delight in Chriat cannot be without
it. Chriat cannot be much in our thoughta tiU he comes to lie nearest our
hearts, and will never be our delight till he be our beloved. We cannot
have high and raised thoughts of him, which are necessary for a transforma
tion into his glory, without this. Strange imaginations wiU intrude them-

464 chabnock's woeks. [1 Cob. XI. 28, 29.
selves, and be welcome guests, unless this grace stand at the door to thrust
them away. We cannot burn in our converses with God unless this grace
set us on fire, nor oan we have any beavenhnesa in thia duty ; for it is by
this affection that we have our conversation in heaven in any service. Nor
can we have a strong appetite to Christ in a aacrament without it; the
atronger the apprehension of, and affection to, any good, the more importunate
will be our longings for it, and the quicker our motiona to it, and the less
can the soul brook any distance between that good and itself.
4. The nature of the ordinance requires it. It ia an heavenly banquet,
and requirea an heavenly frame. As love is the greatest grace in heaven, so
it ought to be highly operative here. It presents us with God'a love to us,
and therefore calls for a suitable return from us. The heathens observed a
suitableness in their sacrifices to the idols they worshipped. They would
not offer a slow-paced creature to the sun, but an horse, because of the quick
motion of that creature. God here wills the greatest good to us, and shaU
not we will the greatest good to God ? Aia enlarged God should make an
enlarged heart. Nothing is more becoming than that love should be recom
pensed with love.*
5. No benefit can be by a sacrament without thia grace. Communion
with God is entailed upon it : John xiv. 21, 23, ' He that loves me, shall be
beloved of my Father, and I will love him, and manifest myself to him.'
Not that our love precedes the love of God in the firat efflux of it, but the
degreea and acts of onr love, kindled at first by the love of God, are rewarded
with greater declarationa of hia love. Where love is acted to God, there
both the Father and Son will combine together for such a soul's satisfaction ;
they will come and dwell there by the Spfrit in'a more close, familiar, and
strict communion, and more certain possession. Where there are the act
ings of love, though there should be no sense of any new income, this grace
would bring a satisfaction in the very exercise.
Now for the trial of this love.
1. Let us not judge ourselves by a general love. As there is a general
love of God to man, a general love of Chriat to mankfrid in dying, and giving
a conditional grant of aalvation upon faith and repentance, and a particular
love to the soul of a believer, so likewise in man there ia a general assent,
and a particular serious assent to the truth of God, and accordingly a general
love upon the apprehensions of what Chriat hath done in general. There'is
a common love to God, which may be so called, because the benefits enjoyed
by men are owned as coming from that fountain ; a love arising from the
apprehensions which men commonly have of the goodness of God in himself,
and a common love wrought in them to God, as to other things that are
good. Again, men may have a false faith, and a false apprehension of par
don of sin, when indeed no such pardon ia granted to them ; so they may
have proportionably a false love upon such an ungrounded belief.
2. Nor let us judge ourselvea to be lovers of God because of our educa
tion. Many have no higher reason of their love to Christ, but because thefr
forefathers professed him ; and so upon the same score that any heathen
loved bis idol, an Egyptian his Apis and onions, or a Turk hia Mahomet, or
a papist hia images, do many titular Christiana love Christ. As among the
papists many cleave to the popish principles, because their fathers did so,
so among us, many have no other reason of their adhering to the Christian
profession, and seeming affection to Christ, but the tradition handed to them
by their parents.
3. Nor let us judge ouraelves by any passionate fits of love, which may
* Nihil decentius quam ut amor amore compensetur.

1 CoE. XI. 28, 29.] the subjects op the loed's suppee. 465
sometimes stir in our souls. There is a love in the aensitive part which is
the passion of love, a love rather stumbled on than judicially taken up ; and
those violent kinds of affections, whether of love, joy, or sorrow, are not
long-hved. But there is a love in the wiU, which is a rational love, which
consists in a consenting to, and choosing of, Christ, and is always accompanied
with a true faith.
But let us examine,
(1.) The motives and object of our affection. Do we love God for him
self, or for hia benefits ? To love Christ for the loaves, is common to the
multitude. To love God for his outward mercies, is a natural love ; to love
him for himself, is a gracious love ; to love him for his benefits, is rather
to love ourselvea, and love our own enda, than to love God. When the in
ducements to it are human, and not divine, it is a human and not a divine
love. Many love Christ's dowry, but not his beauty ; his merit, but not his
person ; as in marriages, many love the portion without affecting the peraon.
True love is between person and person, not between peraon and estate ;
that is a true moral love, the other ia a true physical love, but is defective
in the due grounds and ends of it. Not but there is and may be a love of
what God hath and promises, and the benefits he confers ; this is a love of
the reward. But when we love God merely for this, it is then amor mer-
cenarius ; when we IcTve God for himself, and the reward in order to him, it
is a genuine love ; it respecta other things for God, and God for himself
True love is grounded upon a sight of God, a serious and deep consideration
of him, comparing him with other things, riewing those unmeasurable ex
cellencies which are in him, upon whioh the soul doth judiciously conclude,
that there is infinitely more sweetness and amiableness in God and Christ,
than in all the pleasures and profits of this world. Thus the spouae com
pares her beloved with other beloveds, Cant. v. 9, 10. She considers what
the world affords, and wherewith it allures ; and after a dUigent inquisition,
the object of her love is Christ'a person, the motive of her love is Christ's
excellency ; and such a love will embrace a crucified aa well as a glorified
Christ, a condemned as well as an adored Christ. Where God is loved for
himself, everything of God is highly valued, his word, his ways, his ordi
nances. Christ in his whole latitude ia beloved in all his office^. In hia
death aa a sacrifice, in his life as a pattern ; the power of his death, as well
as the propitiation by it.
(2.) What is the nature of our love ?
[1.] In regard of the prevalency ofit. Do we love Christ solely, supremely ;
doth this affection swallow up all other affections ; as Moses his rod turned
into a serpent, did the rods of the Egyptian magicians ? Doth it, like the
sun, obscure the light of the lesser stars ? As God is the chief good in him
self, he must be so in our esteem. A true conjugal affection to Christ ex
cludes all other things from an equal interest in it ; an equal affection to
Christ and the world are as inconsistent and prodigious as two suns in the
world. The heathens knew the necessity of a prevailing love to their idols,
to be at an expense for them. If the Israelites begin to be fond, though of
a calf, they will deprive themselves of their jewels to aerve it. ^ This preva
lent love of Christ is so necessary an ingredient, that it was the main lesson
he pressed upon his disciples. Mat. xvi. 24, Luke xiv. 26. Self must be
denied, if we follow Christ ; all relationa must be hated in comparison of
Christ, if we be Christ's disciples. The soul of a man is too narrow and
limited to be intensely affected with, and strongly to pursue, at one and the
same time, two different objects. The heart must be a throne reserved for
VOL. IV. - G g

466 chabnock's wobks. [1 Coe. XI. 28, 29.
Christ, where other things must sit at his feet. For as Christ gives himself
wholly to tbe soul, the soul must bestow itself wholly on Christ ; and as
Luther, Mallem mere cum Christo, quam regnare cum Casare, I would rather
perish with the interest of Christ, than reign in grandeur with Csesar. A
hypocrite wiUs Christ in subordination to inferior goods. A sincere votary
to Christ wiUa inferior goods in subordination to Chriat. Do we thus love
Christ in that which croaaeth most the carnal inclinationa and interest of
corrupt nature ?
[2.] In regard of the restlessness of it. Can nothing but Christ and the
enjoyment of him content us ? Are there inquiries after him, industrious
pursuits, unutterable groans, that nothing can satiafy ua, no, not all tbe world,
without him ? Are we importunate, that he may be aa a aeal in our hearts,
aa well as we aa a aeal in hia heart, that there may be clearer engravings,
stronger impressions ? A true lover rejoiceth that he hath any love to give
to God, and grieves that he hath no more to bestow. His hfe is bound up
in Christ, as Jacob's was in Benjamin. An hundred worlds cannot content
him without his beloved. He is upon his watch and guard against all temp
tations which may disturb hia affection or enjoyment, and acoounta the
missing of Christ worse than hell itself ; all other things will be abhorred,
and accounted aa loaa and dung, PhUip. iii. 8.
[3.] What are the effects and concomitants of our love ? Are we careful to
please him, though with our own shame ? Christ'a love made him take the
form of a aervant to pleasure man ; the soul's love will make it take up the
meanest shape to please the Redeemer. Christ cared not how much he was
emptied, so he might diacover hia love ; the soul cares not how much it is
humbled, so it may testify its affection. It is like the string of an instru
ment strained to the same height with another, which will move when the
other is touched. A true affectionate soul will be conformed to Christ in its
motions : Gal. i. 10, ' If I yet pleaaed men, I ahould not be the servant of
Christ.' In the state of unregeneracy he pleaaed men, but now aa a aervant
he would pleaae Chriat hia Maater. Are we in our bent and resolution care
ful to please God, without regard to the oppositions of the world ? as the sun
holds on ita race, though the clouds gather to hinder the shining of it. Are we
desiroua of his glory, as well as our own happiness ? Would we rather lose
what we desire, than defraud God of his right ? Our own happineaa is but
a created good, and therefore ought not to be loved for itself. Nor must we
prefer the gift before the glory of the giver ; the glory of God is incompa
rably more amiable than our own happineaa can be. If a man doth aU for
his own happineaa more than for God's glory, it ia certain he loves that
more than God ; and if he aerves God only for happiness, he sells hia ser
vice to God, and he serves himself not God, for he intends only to advantage
himself, not to glorify God. It waa plain that Delilah loved not Samson,
when all her projects were to enrich herself, and gratify the Philistines in
betraying him ; so if our projects be to satisfy ourselvea, we are not lovers
of God. Are the duties he enjoins delightful to us ? Do the commands
which were before burdensome cease to be grievous to us ? 1 John v. 3.
Are our duties not so much preaaed by natural conecience, as aweetened by
love ? Do we esteem lightly of every service we do ? True love never
thinks it can do enough. Are we tender of hia honour ? Do we account the
enemies of God our enemies ? Ps. cxix. 21, 22. The Phihstines loved thefr
Dagon, when they would not tread upon the threshold where he had received
a disgrace, 1 Sam. v. 4, 5. How is it aa to constancy ? True love vriU not
be quenched by the waters of afflictiona : Cant. viii. 7, ' Many waters cannot, i
quench love, neither can the floods drown it.' It is a fire that triumphs over

1 Cob. XI. 28, 29.] the subjects of the lobd's suppeb. 467
the waters ofthe sharpest dispensations. When storms hang over the head,
there is no repentance that ever his love was bestowed upon Christ. In this
there is a suitableness between Christ's affection and the aoul, in regard of
the conatanoy of it. The creature's love hath ita ebbs and floods. It is
sometimes circumvented by temptations, in regard of the aots and exercise,
though not of the habit, which recovera itself ; aa Christ'a love hath inter
missions in regard of the discoveries of it, though not in respect of the
reality and truth of it ; both are constant.
Another grace to be examined is love of God's people. Thia ia the badge
of a diaciple : John xiii. 34, 35, ' A new commandment I give unto you,, that
you love one another, as I have loved you.' This ia the livery whereby men
are known to belong to Chriat, as a prince's servant is known by the badge
he bears. It is not, as Erasmus notes, if you use this or that ceremony,
have this or that habit ; if you use the same meat, have the same title, but
if you have the same affection. This Christ left as his last will and testa
ment, as that whioh lay most peculiarly upon his heart to be observed by
them. When Moses was to leave the conduct of the people,* he gives them
a commandment not to depart from the law of God. When John the Bap-
tiat quitted hia function, he recommended to hia disciples the disposing them
selvea, by the baptiam of repentance, to receive the Messiah ; and by the
observing this and their fasts, they were marked to be John's disciples.
The commandment Chriat gives them a little before his departure, is to love
one another, as the special character whereby they should be known to be
his disciples. Hence it is called his commandment, as peculiarly his as the
commandment to beheve, for they are both joined together : 1 John iii. 23,
' And thia is hia commandment, that we should believe on the name of his
Son Jesus Christ, and love one another, as he gave us commandment,' — as
that which he took a special delight in. Aa if those two, faith and love, made
up the body of the Christian religion. In regard of this commandment the
apostle tells the Thessalonians, 1 Thes. iv. 9, that they were taught of God ;
and this Christ presseth again and again ; for he repeats it often in that last
sermon of hia, which he would not have pressed so much, when he had so
many things to deliver, if it were not necessary. He caUs it a new com
mandment, not only in regard of the renewal.of it ; it haring been as it were
out of date, and wholly lost among the Jewish factions ; not only because
it is more commanded in the goapel, as sacrificea were under the law more
pressed than this ; but in regard of the pattern. Before, it was ' Love thy
neighbour aa thyaelf,' but they had no such glorious exemplar, before the
love of Chriat cande to be unfolded to the world. Now it is, ' Love one another
as I have lo'fed you. So powerful a motive was never affixed to the moral law,
which commanded love ; former ages never had so fair and so full a copy for
it as thia. And so punctual were the ancient ChristianB in this, that Tertul
han saith, it was the amazement of the heathens to see them Animo animaqu-e
misceri, their soula and minda united and mingled with each other ; and, in
deed, the more believers love God, the more they will love one another ; as
lines, the nearer they are to the centre, the nearer they are to one another.
1. This is necessary in aU duties. Would we pray ? Our hands must be
' Ufted up without wrath and doubting,' 1 Tim. ii. 8. Would we hear the
word ? If we are ' swift to hear,' we must be ' slow to wrath,' James i. 19.
Would we offer a sacrifice at the altar ? we must ' first be reconcUed to
our brother,' Mat. v. 25. Fire from heaven wiU not else kindle the sacri
fice. One of the leading sina to be purged out of the church of Corinth, in
order to a due preparation to thia ordinance, was malice, 1 Cor. v. 8.
* Amyraut, in loc.

468 chabnock's woeks. [1 Cob. XI. 28, 29.
2. But more necessary in this ordinance.
(1.) It represents the union of believers together. The bread being made
up of several grains compacted together : 1 Cor. x. 16, ' For we being many
are one bread and one body.' As tbe bread is a mark and means of the
communion we have with Christ,* and as we declare by tbe participation of
the external signa, that \ve have a communion with tbe Lord, do we not
also make, by the aame means, a solemn protestation that we are ofthe same
faith, the same religion, with those that partake of- those symbols ? And
since it is the same bread which represents one Jesus, it also associates us
into one body. This bread is appointed to be a band to tie us to Christ,
and to tie us in affections to one another. This ordinance was instituted to
solder believers together. They have the same nourishment, and therefore
ahould have the same affection. Eodem sanguine glutinati, knit together
with the same blood, as Austin saith of himself and his friend. The death
of Christ is here represented, which is an engagement to this affection. In
this his death is shewn, which did meritoriously purchase thia unity; in this
we partake of Christ, in whom all believers are made one, engrafted in the
same stock. It was the end of Christ's death to reduce all to a harmony,
to atill the "war, not only in the members against the mind, but in his people
one against another. Since we are to remember the death of Christ, we are
to remember his will and pleasure at his death ; when we remember our
friends, we would at least remember their dying charge, John xv. 17. Doth
not Christ press this in his farewell discourse, ' These thinga I command
you, that you love one another,' when he was making his will to man, and
his will to God ? This was part of that will he wae to aeal vrith his blood.
As Christ upon the cross was tbe highest eruption of love, so this aacrament
ia the setting forth the highest pattern of it.
(2.) No benefit of the ordinance without this grace. We have no com
munion with Christ without keeping this commandment : 1 John iii. 23, 24,
' This is his commandment, that you love one another ;' and ' he that
keeps his commandment, dwells in him, and he in him.' Passion is like a
leaven that corrupts this ordinance to the soul ; as anger hinders the con
coction of bodily food in the stomach. When Jerusalem is a quiet habita
tion, tbe tabernacle shall not be taken down, and God will be a place of broad
rivera and streams to it, laa. xxxiii. 20. The greatest gift next to Christ,
was that of the Spirit, which descended when the disciples were 6/io5u-
fi-aShv, of one mind. Acts ii. 1. This being the design of the gospel, to knit
men's hearts together in peace and love, those that have not this love are
not cast into a gospel mould, and therefore not fit to receive advantage by a
choice evangehcal institution.
Let us examine ourselves as to this grace.
And that we may not mistake, every difference in judgment is not a sign
of the want of this grace. Paul differed fr-om Peter in opinion about the
Jewish ceremonies, without any breach of love. Gal. ii. 11. Paul and Bar
nabas jarred so as to part asunder ; yet neither of them can.be supposed to
be void of thia, which their Master had so particularly enjoined them, Acts
XV. 37-39. It cannot be expected but differences in judgment will be among
tbe most serious Christians, while the blindness of their minds ia but imper
fectly cured. The strings of an instrument are not all of one size, nor have
the same sound, yet agree in a harmony ; there may be an harmony hi affec
tions, though there may be a difference in opinions.
But this love is true.
(1.) When it is founded upon the grace of a person. That which is most
* Amyraut, in loc.

1 Coe. XI. 28, 29.] the subjects of the loed's suppee. 469
lovely in Christ's eye should be so in ours ; the grace and holiness of a per
son is respected by Christ, not hia outward state and condition. It ia a
loving 'in the truth,' and 'for the truth's sake,' 2 John 1, 2. A love of
a disciple ' in the name of a disciple,' Mat. x. 42. As there is a common
affection to God in men, because of his benefits, so there may b6 also some
common affection in an unregenerate man to godliness, which may be the
fruit of education, or an enlightened conscience, in some measure conrinced
that holiness is good. Holiness and grace are so beautiful, that the wickedest
man would have the appearance of it, and would be esteemed good. But it
must be a' choice and prevailing affection, out of love to Christ, whose image
he bears, flowing from a love to God, a spirit of regeneration, from the seed
of the gospel rooted in the soul : Gal. v. 22, ' The fruit of the Spirit is love,
joy, peace, long-suffering, gentleness, goodness,' and is therefore set upon
the meanest Christian, as the meanest box which hath a jewel in it, will be
esteemed for the jewel'a sake by those that understand it. The Corinthians
were defective in this love, in despising the poor in their love-feasts, a mis
carriage the apostle blames them for in thia, 1 Cor. xi. 22.
(2.) It must be a fervent love. ' With a pure heart fervently,' 1 Peter
i. 22, not in appearance and faintly. The word the apostle useth, Rom.
xii. 10, which is translated, ' be kindly affectioned to one another,' (piXo-
BTo^yoi, signifies a vehement affection. For as God loves nothing more in
this world than his own image, so those that have the divine nature drawn
in them are in this part like him ; for God never draws any image unlike
himself. (8.) A love manifeated most in thefr persecutions. To be ashamed of be
lievers in their sufferings is, in Christ's interpretation, to be ashamed of
Christ himself. At the last day, the trial of men is by their acts towards
God's people in time of their persecutions, Mat. xxv. 41-43, &c., as if the
neglect of that which he calla hia commandment were the great sin to be
answered for then. It is not whether we visited them when in their houses,
in state and triumph, or fed them when they had wherevrith to do it them
selves, but when in a state of want. If a man loves the graces of a believer,
he wUl love him in suffering; for though auffering alters his. outward condi
tion, it alters not his' inward relation or gracioua disposition. Christ upon
the cross was as dear to John, his beloved disciple, who would not leave him
then, as when the people would have made him king.
Another grace to be examined and acted is desire, a holy appetite. The
Israelites were to cat the Passover in haste, not lento corde et ore languido,*
but with a greediness of mind.
1. This is necessary in all duties. In hearing the word, the desfre must be
as insatiable as the infant's cry for milk, 1 Peter ii. 2. Not the outward
breast, but the nourishing milk conveyed by it, satisfies the infant. In
prayer, there muat be unutterable groans, strong saUiea, and flighta of the
soul with a holy impetus : Ps. Ixiu. 8, ' My soul follows hard after thee.' It
would have an infinite enlargement of heart to God, suitable to God'a infinite
fulness. Thia desire is expressed by hunger and thirst. No desire so
clamorous as that of a new-born infant for milk, or of an hungry man for
meat, who wiU eat his own flesh, or offer riolence to himself rather than
want nouriahment. But this should not be so strong as our desfres for
Christ. 2. But in thia ordinary more necessary.
(1.) It is a feast, and appetite is proper to that. Were it but a crumb,
* Gaudentius.

470 chabnock's wobks. [1 Coe. XI. 28, 29.
yet desire were fit, as long as it ia from heaven. If there be life, there wiU
be a nutritive appetite, and desfre of those things which are suitable nourish
ment. Now what but Christ oan be suitable nourishment to the new nattfre
wherein this appetite is seated ? To come vrithout an appetite upon Chriat's
solemn invitation, is a wrong to the master of the feast, and the cheer he
hath provided ; it is a shame to come to such a feast, and leave our atomacha
at home. It ia not a fulness Christ expects we ahould bring to him, but an
emptiness with an earnest desire : Rev. xxii. 17, ' Let him that is athirst
come ;' it is an heavenly feast, there must be a suitable appetite. Evan
gelical food requires evangehcal hunger ; marrow and fatness should whet
our stomach.
(2.) The greater the longings the greater the satiafaction. In great de
sirea the soul is said to pant as an hart, and in speedy mercies Christ is
aaid to run aa a roe. When desire opena the heart widest, then God opena
the hand largest to fill it : Ps. Ixxxi. 10, ' Open thy mouth wide, and I wiU
fill it.' Mary comes to the aepulchre before the other disciples, and when
ahe miaseth her Lord, is more restleaa, John xx. 11. She atays, and weeps,
and looks into the sepulchre again, when the other disciples were more re
miss and went away, and missed of the sight of Christ, which Mary was
blessed with. The wider the heart, the more triumphantly doth the king of
glory enter. We have according to our desfres, as Joash according to bis
strokes, 2 Kings xiii. 18, 19 ; had he struck six times, he had utterly de
stroyed his enemies, whereas striking but thrice, be had but a treble victory.
He that is so tender of a bruised reed that he will not break it, or a smok
ing flax that he wiU not quench it, will not let an hungry soul go empty
away. God scarce gives mercies in a sanctified way, but where there hath
been a restless importunity before. Benefits would not be prized without
this : Prov. xxvii. 7, ' The fuU aoul loathea the honeycomb.' The chapped
and parched earth sucks in the rain after a great drought.
(8.) This is the noblest affection we can bestow upon God. God being
infinite should be loved, not with a finite, but infinite affection. But nothing
but desire can stretch itself to a kind of infinity, and therefore is most fit to
be exerted in thjs heavenly and eminent ordinance.
Let us examine our desires,
[1.] Whether they be vehement. An infinite being should not be faintly
and coldly desired. There ought to be a holy distraction in the soul,* as
scorched bowels are full of pain tUl they get satisfaction. There is no ques
tion but an imperfect velleity, a languishing and feeble desire, may be in un
regenerate men ; they may have more or less some apprehensions of the
good, which stir up proportionable desires ; but the longings of a gracious
soul are .strong, spiritual, and produce mighty inward operations. As there
is all sweetness in Christ, so there should be all vehemency in the acts of
the soul to him. Is our desire limited to God alone ? Do we apprehend
him and pant after him as the greatest good, and Christ aa the choicest and
only Saviour ? Is it so earnest, that if all affiictions were removed from us,
all outward mercies bestowed upon ua, this should not satisfy, but Christ
alone and the light of his countenance ? This holy longing can no more be
stopped by any creature, than tbe sun can be barred by clouds from running
its race. The whole world is but as the drop of a bucket after all tbe water
is poured out. Would a small drop quench the thirat of parched bowels ?
No more can aU the world answer the desire of a gracious soul, any more
than a drop can cool the tongue of a damned creature.
* Oitx /ixvia, as Basil calls it.

1 CoE. XI. 28, 29.] THE SUBJECTS of the lobd's suppeb. 471
[2.j Whether they are constant. Doth the fire in the temple never go
out ? Do settled apprehensions of Christ keep our -hearts alive in their
motions, or are they only like the fits of a fever, or flashes of lightning, which
quickly vanish ? Are they as pilgrims lodging only for a night, and in the
morning leave no footsteps of themselvea, no aigna that ever they were
there ? Or are they kept up in some life and vigour upon the heart ? In
an equal heat it cannot be expected in this life, but when they flag, are they
quickly revived ? 0 let us seek God with our whole heart and with our
whole soul.

A DISCOURSE OF THE UNWORTHY RECEIVING
OF THE LORD'S SUPPER.

Whosoever shall eat this bread, and drink this cup of the Lord, unworthily,
shall be guilty of the body and blood of the Lord. For he that eats and
drinks unworthily, eateth and drinketh damnation to himself, not discerning-
the Lord's lody.—l Cob. XI. 27, 29.
Aftee the apostle had laid down the platform of the institution, he makes
his inferences suited to the case and miscarriage of the Corinthians. Since
this ordinance was appointed 'by-Christ as a memorial of him, and in the
celebration of it ' we shew the Lord's death ; ' an unbecoming frame and
carriage in so great a mystery, is a reflection upon the authority of it, con
trary to the ends of it, and a contracting the guilt of the body and blood of
Christ. As ifhe should have said,* While you Corinthians come together
in a rude manner to this ordinance, as if it were a common and profane
feast, the abuse and contempt redounds upon the body and blood of Christ
represented by those elements. Calvin thinks the apostle makes a digres
sion from the particular Corinthian case to an universal one, not only com
prehending under unworthy receiving the abuses crept into that church, but all
other miscarriages which might in the future rise up in that or any other
church whatsoever ; and indeed it is as a general case to be considered in
our days, since the particular case of the Corinthiana hath not its paraUel.
He considers
1. The sin, (1.) in its nature, eating and drinking unworthily.
(2.) In its aggravation, a guUt of the body and blood of Chriat.
2. The danger, ver. 29, eating and drinking damnation to himself
8. The cause of all; not discerning the Lord's body.
Whosoever eats and drinks unworthily. Whosoever approacheth without a.
consideration ofthe dignity of that which ia represented by those elements,t
and the ends of their appointment, regarding it as a common thing of no
great value, and brings not those dispositions of faith and repentance, doth
not reflect upon the elementa themselves, but vilifies that which they repre
sent ; and offends not so much against the exterior signs, as riolates the
reverence due to the body and blood of Christ ; and is so far from gather
ing the bleaaed fruit of thia ordinance, that he returna with the mark of the
murderer of Chriat upon him ; for he contemns the condition of the covenant,
and consequently the blood of the covenant. The argument whereby he
urgeth it, ia the relation it hath to Christ. It is the bread and cup of the
* Musculus. - t Amyraut, Daille in loc.

1 Coe. XI. 27, 29.] unwoethy beceiving op the loed's suppeb. 473
Lord. Though it be bread and wine, yet il is a sacred thing ; it is the
bread and wine of the Lord, instituted by him for his glory and our salva
tion. He doth not say, Whoaoever eats the body of the Lord, or drinks
the blood of the Lord unworthily, but this bread, this cup. The apostle was
not so witless as to have termed them bread and cup, had the doctrine of
transubstantiation been known in his daya. His argument had run stronger,:
it is but bread and wine in appearance, it is changed into the real body and
blood of Christ ; and therefore your unworthy carriage is immediately and
not relatively a violation of his person. But the apostle acknowledgeth it
to be bread and wine ;* but to distinguish it from bread of an ordinary use,
caUs it, ' the bread of the Lord.'
Unworthily. A worthy carriage reapects either persons or things ; per
sons, when our demeanour is suitable to the dignity of the person we con
verse with ; or things, when we manage a business we undertake with a
decorum and becomingness, according to the nature of it ; as we say a man
did this or that very handsomely. He that doth not observe a decorum
and decency in a converse with a person or management of a business, doth
it unworthily, awkwardly, rustically, or slovenly. So the word worthy is
used : Luke iii. 8, ' Bring forth fruits worthy of repentance,' i. e. suitable
to the repentance you profess. And Eph. iv. 1, ' Walk worthy of the voca
tion wherewith you are called,' i. e. let your conversation answer your
calling, and be suitable to the dignity of it. It is not any precedent act
meritorious of the vocation, but a worthy carriage after it, auitable to the
dignity of the calling. The apostle doth not say, Whatsoever unworthy
person eats and drinks of this cup, &c., for then he had excluded every
man, himself too. For who' is worthy enough for these things ? as the
apoatle speaks in another case, ' Who is aufficient for these things ? ' The
apostle requires not here a meritoriousness. Merit belonga to Christ dying,
worthiness to the believer receiving. He speaks not of the worthiness of
the person, but a worthiness of the action. A man may want a worthiness
of person to be employed in a prince's service, yet not want a worthiness of
parts which fit him, being engaged in it, to manage his employ for hia own
and his prince's honour. Or if a poor man be called to a prince's table,* he
ia, because ofhis poverty and distance, unworthy to sit with him ; yet being
inrited he may come ; but if he behaves himaelf uncivilly and indecently,
he makes himself guilty of a contempt of the royal majesty, in whose pre
sence he is. Unworthily here notes the want of an evangelical frame and
disposition of heart.
Guilty of the body and blood of the Lord. He offers wrong to Christ.
The Jews were guilty of his blood, when they crucified him ; apostates are
guilty of his blood, when they deny him, Heb. x. 29. An unworthy receiver
doth such an injury to Christ, that God wiU account him in the rank of the
Jews that crucified him, and charge him with ho less a crime than the guilt
of the blood^of his Son.
He eats and drinks damnation. 'Kf/Mo,, judgment, which differs from
xaTdicgift,a.-t He eata judgment or punishment, which is double, either
eternal or temporary. Final unbelievers eat it to their etemal condem
nation ; those that have faith, and; are neghgent in due preparations, eat
it to their temporary correction. It is the effect for the cause. An unbe
liever doth not properly eat hia condemnation ; for condemnation ia not
naturally or sacramentally in the bread and wine, but he eats that which
will be the cause of his condemnation, + because not considering the glorious
* Jfusculus. t Rom. V. 16, xf/iMus xaTax^i/^x, 'judgment unto condemnation.'
i Estius in loc.

474 chabnock's wobks. [1 Cob. XI. 27, 29.
use these elements are destined to, he doth not conaider how great and
glorious a thing the body ofthe Lord is, which they repreaent ; and so
violatea, in those signs, the honour due to his majesty. Not but that this
is of itself, and in regard of the institution, wholesome and quickening, but
by the evil disposition of the receiver, and the abuse of the ordinance, that
which was ordained to life brings death ; as the foulneaa of the stomach
makes wholesome food turn to venom in the body. Therefore the apostle
adds, 'He eats damnation to himself There is no auch thing in the
institution. The fault is wholly in himself, not in the ordinance. He
abuseth that which would be useful to him, if he brought worthy dispositions
with him. As our first parents ate their death in eating the forbidden fruit,
when the fruit itself was not of a venomous nature, but by transgreasing the
command of God, they rendered themaelves obnoxious to the death God
had threatened. So we say of a man, that he hath swallowed hia death,
when he hath eaten something which makes way for the entrance of death;
not only when it is poisonous in ita own nature, but when it is unsuitable to
the temper and state of the patient. So he that eats unworthily, makes
himself obnoxious to the judgment of God, either to be tormented by his
scorpions hereafter, or awakened by his scourges here.
Not discerning the Lord's body, Aiax^hcav. To discern a thing or person
is to separate it from other things or persons,* and give it ita due rank and
order, which is either, (1.) in effect, when a man is endowed with quahties
whioh elevate him above others. Aa the apostle aaith, God makes us to
differ. Tig ydg as biaTt^hii ; 1 Cor. iv. 7, i. e. he puts a difference between us
and othera, giving us graces more advantageous than unto them. (2.) In
opinion and esteem, when we value one thing more than another ; so. Acts
XV. 9, God is said to ' put no difference between the Jews and Gentiles,' obht
biix^in, i. e. he hath treated them indifferently. So not to discern the Lord's
body is not to esteem and honour it as he ought, not to give it its due
rank; to entertain it not as a singular and divine, but a common and
ordinary thing. When men diseateem Christ, they count his blood aa com
mon blood, Heb. x. 20. What is there translated unholy, is in the Greek,
xonm ; so after the apostle had discoursed of the two elements, as repre
senting the two parts of the sacrifice offered upon the cross, his body broken,
hia blood poured out for a propitiation for sin, not to discern it, is to have
no higher opinion of the body of the Son of God, the wonder of God's wis
dom and goodness, than of a common thing, and a matter of no value.
Or not discerning the Lord's body, is when our sense sticks upon the
outward elements, and our spirits rise not up to view the merits and pro
pitiation of Christ through the veil of the bread and wine, aa if the elements
were tbe things only we were to feast upon. It is a spiritual feast, and
therefore we discern not the Lord's body when we have not spiritual medi
tations of the dignity of Christ, the atonement he made, God's wisdom,
justice, and mercy in the design of his death. As Christ doth not put us
off with empty signs, so he would not have us rest upon empty signs, but
acknowledge his body and blood represented in them, for those ends for
whioh the one was broken, and the other shed. The papists, to prop up
their doctrine of transubstantiation, draw an argument for it from this
place. The body of Christ is in the sacrament in its proper substance,
otherwise a man could not be guilty of his body and.blood.f For no man
could justly be condemned for not discerning the Lord's body from other
meat, if that which he receivea were not truly the body of the Lord, but
another meat ; and the unworthy receiving of the naked aign cannot make a
* Amyraut, Daille, Musculus. f Daille Melange des Sermons.

1 Coe. XI. 27, 29.] unwoethy beceiving of the lobd's suppeb. 475
man guilty of the body and blood of the Lord. But this is no argument.*
Christ is wronged in that which hath a relation to him, as well as immedi
ately in his own peraon. The rejecting the apostles, the messengers of
Christ, ia a rejectbg Chriat who sent them : Luke x. 16, ' He that despiseth
you, despiseth me ; ' and he that despiseth the commanda of God delivered
by man, ' despiseth not man, but God,' 1 Thes. iv. 8. Waa our Saviour
therefore subatantially preaent in the persons of the apostles ? Were they
not separated from his body, when he sent them to other parta, and gave
them this as an encouragement ? How could he be with them, and absent
from them in his body ? When he chargeth Saul with persecuting him,
beeause he ' breathed out slaughter against hia disciples,' Acta ix. 4, was
' the body of Christ therefore substantially in his disciples ? He that hath
received the knowledge of the truth, and apostatiseth from it, ' treads under
foot the Son of God:' Is the person of Christ under the feet of theae con-
temnera ! To tumble a king'a robe in the dirt, to counterfeit his seal, tread
upon his crown, daub his picture, break down his arms in despite, offer
violence to his ambassador, is reckoned as a violation of the person and
authority of a prince ; yet neither the person nor nature of the person is
really present in any of those things. They are indeed the marks of his
dignity, and he that violates wilfully any of them is supposed to be willing
to do as much against the peraon of the prince, if it were in hia power, as
against anything whioh bears his character. The substance of the body and
blood of Christ, is not in the bread and wine of the sacrament ; his exalted
body is no more to be broken and sliced in pieces ; nor doth it consist with his
state of glory, to have his substantial body shrouded under such mean
elementa. But the bread and wine are memorials and pledges of hia body
and blood, instituted by him aa aigns to signify him ; therefore he that re
ceives them without a due respect to Christ, and handles them unworthily,
despising those things which are signified by them, is a contemner of the
Son of God,' since he hath no value for that which is a mark of his authority
and his love.
Doct. Unworthy receivers of the supper contract great guUt, and incur
great danger. In the handling which doctrine I shall shew,
I. What unworthy receiring is.
II. The sinfulness of it.
III. The danger of it.
IV. The use.
I. What unworthy receiving is.
1. Something negatively.
(1.) Unworthy receiving is not proper only to a man in a natural state.
The apostle chargeth here unworthy receiving, not only upon the professing,
but the regenerate Corinthians, upon such as fell under the chastening hand
of God for this cause, that they might ' not be condemned with the world '
to an eternal punishment, 1 Cor. xi. '32. He sent temporal punishments
upon them that they might not undergo an eternal damnation ; they were
redeemed from eternal punishment, renewed in their souls, yet some of them
were guilty of unworthy receiving. The apostle also puts the unworthiness
upon the want of a self-examination, which a good man may, by some supine-
ness and negligence, be deficient in, and, as the sleepy chur'ch, Cant. v. 2,
may contract some rust in hia graces, yea, and fall into aome bemiring sin,
as a neat man may into a dirty puddle, rendering himaelf at present unfit
for the entertainment of, and converse with some worthy friend. Sins of a
higher magnitude, whioh a good man may fall into, make him at the present
* Daille Melange des Sermons.

476 chabnock's woeks. [1 Cob. XI. 27, 29.
unfit for heaven, and therefore for an heavenly ordinance. David was no
worthy attender upon the institutions of God whUe he lay in hia impeni
tenoy, till hia teara had waahed away his iniquity. Nor waa Peter restored
to the Bweetness of converse with his Master, till he had wept bitterly ;
while a great sin remains unpurged, or the soul through negligence untrim- ,
med, it is no fit guest for God.
(2.) Unworthy receiving ia not to be meaaured by our sensible joy or
comfort after receiring. Two men that have perfect health have not equal
stomachs, nor equal appetites, and consequently not the same joy in their
meals, yet both in health. We should more consider how graces are acted,
than how comforts are diapensed ; the former ia our duty, and necessary to
a right participation ; the latter is an act of sovereignty, and not our duty.
God's dispensations are not equal to all ; some have only tastes, othera fuU
draughts ; some may have more joy than strength, othera more strength than
ioy. Mary had a atrength of love to Christ, before she had a joy of pardon ,
from him, Luke vii. 47. Paul's grace was not weaker fourteen years after
his rapture, though we read not of a second discovery of the third heavens
to him. God waa most pleased with our Saviour upon the cross, acting his
faith in, and love and obedience to God, when he denied him sensible com
forts from heaven, and was bruising his soul for sin. The life and exercise
of grace ia the root of joy, though the fruit itself be not always visible ; we
may seem to have a rebuke from God, when we are in the strongest exercise
of grace. The woman of Canaan had no sense of Christ'a kindness, whUe
she waa acting a faith stronger than others who had met with swifter re
wards. Jacob had the honour to be termed a prince prevaihng with God,
in that wrestling wherein he received such a touch from God as made him
halt all his life after, Gen. xxxu. 25, 28. If our souls can ascend, like
Manoah's angel, in the smoke of thanksgiving and elevations of spirit, and
be melted and softened by a flame of love, there is a worthy receiving, though
there be not a sensible comfort.
But, 2. Positively ; that is an unworthy receiving, —
(1.) When evil dispositions and beloved sins are not laid aside and for
saken. As there must be faith respecting the Christian doctrine, so there
must be repentance respecting the conversation. He eats unworthily that
hath different ends from what Christ had in the institution ; and wanta the
qualifications which Christ requires, who hath neither faith nor repentance,
no sense of sin, nor love to Christ, to hold up to God. Common infirmities
render us not unworthy, but voluntary defilements : neither the poverty,
blindness, or halting of one or other of those inrited, Luke xiv. 21, Mat.
xxii. 10, was charged upon them, but only the filthy rags that one of them
came in ; such aordidness as he might have mended, not the lameness which
he could not cure. Common infirmities are inaeparable in thia hfe ; but the
great breaches and violations of the covenant are to be discharged. Every
sin doth make some separation between God and us (as the smallest body
hath its shadow); but they are the darling sins that are a thick cloud between
him and us. Those then are unquestionably unworthy receivers, that
approach with a love to their lusts ; as Judas, who came vrith his covetous
disposition and treacherous purposes. Such as lay aside their sina at pre
aent in the act, but not in. the habit and affection, that shake hands with
them for a time, to fondle them afterwards.
(2.) When, though beloved ains are discarded, yet there is not a due pre
paration suitable to the quality of the institution. The apostle impliea it in
the precept he enjoins immediately after the declaration of the sin : ver. 28,
'Let a man examine himself He that doth not trim up the graces he hath,

1 Cob. XI. 27, 29.] unwoethy beceiving of the lobd's suppee. 477
that doth not search them out, and marshal them in order to entertain the
master of the feast, as well as he who wants those qualifications necessary.
An actual as well as an habitual sanctification 'was requfred of Jesse's sons
before the sacrifice : 1 Sam. xvi. 5, ' Sanctify yourselves, and come with me
to tbe sacrifice.' Christ did sanctify himself before he made himself a
sacrifice, John xvii. 19, so should we before we commemorate it. If the
lamps be not trimmed, they will burn but dimly. If that he counts the
wedding-garment be not brushed, it vrill be a slighting the Lord not to
appear in our best garb. The Corinthians were chastised, not for want of
grace in habit, but for want of grace in act. It is a disrespect to Christ
not to put on a wedding-garment which we have in possession, when graceS
and affections are not set on work which the ordinance requires. A natural
man is unworthy for want of posseasing those gracea ; a renewed man un
worthy for want of acting them. The party that so offended was not sent
out to clothe himself, but punished for his neglect : ' Friend, how camest
thou in hither ?' Christ's worthycare in the institution must be answered
with a worthy carriage in the preparation. He washed his disciples' feet
before the institution, John xiii. We should prepare our souls before the
participation. When a good man's graces lie dead at the ordinancea, he re
ceives unworthily. What difference is there between a dead man and one
that doth not exercise the aots of life ? When Christ reacheth out himself,
and our hands are not ready to take, our hearts not ready to embrace, it is
an unsuitable carriage. We have no great esteem of the galea that blow, if
we will not prepare and Soiat our sails to be filled with them, and stand not
ready to suck Christ's breast in his ordinance.
(8.) It is an unworthy receiving when we rest only in the ordinance, ex
pecting from the work done, what we should expect only from Christ in it.
When we content ourselves with Elijah's mantle, without asking for the God
of Elijah. Thus the Jews deluded themaelvea with their privileges, and
displeased God with their neglect of him ; like Joab securing himself by lay
ing hold of the horns of the altar without repentance for his murders. This
is to derive from the sacrament the cause of our righteousness and justifica
tion, and ascribe that to the naked elements and signs which is only to be
expected and desired at the hands of God. This ia a wrong to God, when
we prefer the shadow before the substance, the- shell before the kernel,
satisfy our appetite and take no notice of the Master. Doth not he slight
both the physician and the physic, that expects a cure from a medicine in
his pocket, which he was to take into his body ? The like it is to Christ,
to think that a corporal feeding, without a spiritual relish, can nourish our
souls ; a chewing the elements with the teeth, without feeding upon Christ
with the heart. This is evident, when we answer not sacramental engage
ments, as well as when we come without sacramental preparations ; in
that we slight the end of the ordinance, as in the other we slight the great
ness of the inatitution.
(4.) When there is a gariahneas and looseneas of spirit in the time of our
attendance. Not discerning the Lord's body, say some ; not minding the
Lord's body, but letting the thoughts run at rovers,, which should be fixed
upon Christ's dying ; not making a difference between this holy bread and
common refreshments in the behaviour of our soula. Our spirits should be
low in regard of contrition, not in regard of a sordid demeanour towards God.
To have baae ends and starts in hia worship ;* to regard our own things in
this act, and not the things of God ; to have unsettled and roring thoughts,
crosses the end of this ordinance. It is unworthy not to remember Christ,
* Grotius.

478 chabnock's woeks. [1 Cob. XI. 27, 29.
not to shew forth his death ; how oan this be done without minding him ?
The Master of the feast is not remembered unless we look through the
bread and wine to the broken body and the shed blood of Christ. We
esteem not him that we do not mind, we value not him that we do not,
with tbe weight of our souls, intently lean upon. Not that any man is
free from roving while the flesh cleaves to him. (The involuntary startings
ofthe fleah, the involuntary injeotiona of the devil, do not make na un
worthy receivers. God regards the willingneaa of the spirit to affect us,
and the weakness of the flesh to pity us. ' He knows our frame, that we
are but dust,' and dust is apt to be removed with a blast of wind.) But
when the reins are let loose to the headsfrong flesh, when we pull it not
in, but follow rather than resist the motions ; it is then that we make hght
of the dignity of this ordinance, and the great and glorious body of our Lord
represented thereby. Neither can we understand every actual consent to
such motions at the time of onr attendance to be the unworthy receiving,
which makea us guilty of the body and blood of Christ, though it be an un
worthy carriage, unless we should count all the apostles to be unworthy re
ceivers, who, if not in the time, yet preaently after the firat partaking of it,
contended among themselves about earthly greatness in the kingdom of the
Messiah, as it is probable from Luke xxii. 24. But when it ia habitual,
voluntary, and without a purpoae of soul, and a ' aetting the heart to seek
the Lord,' 1 Chron. xxii. 19, such an one is not free from thia character
of an unworthy receiver.
, II. The ainfulness of this. It is a contracting the guilt of the body and
blood of the Lord. This unworthy carriage derives its original from that
disposition which incited the Jews to a crucifying of him. Though there be
not a blow struck at his person, there is the spring of as many blows as ever
the Jews gave him. Diversa peccata, par contumelia. What hath been said
lately about the sinfulness of unbelief might be applied to thia case. I shall
therefore say the less of it. Though there be a difference in the circum
stances of the several sins, there is little or none in the contempt and in
dignity. He that doth despite to the image or arms of a prince, would do
the same to his person, were it aa much in hia power.
1. It is an implicit approbation of the Jews' act in oracifying Christ. If
we are not affected with that state of Christ, we consent to, and approve of,
that act of his crucifiers ; not positively, but privatively ; not having that
temper and affection of spirit which such an action doth call for from us.
This is one way, among many others, of being accessory to another's sin, by
not having a regret at it. He that makes light at the death of an innocent
person,* confesseth him a malefactor, and that he deaervea to be alain, since
being slain, he deserves so little regard, or at least he makes him a male
factor, and gives just occasion of auspicion that he would have been ready
enough to have imbrued his hands in that man's blood. The committing a
sin is an approbation of all of the same kind that went before. Had it not
been so, the guilt bf the blood of all the prophets could not have fallen upon
the heads of that generation which murdered Christ, Luke xi. 47. Whoso
ever hath shght thoughts of the death of Christ, and neglects those duties so
great a condescension calls for, partly consents to the savage usage Christ
met with from the Jews. They were the authors of the first crime, and an
unworthy receiver the abettor.
2. It exceeds the ain of the Jews in some circumBtancea, as weU as that
exceeded this in others. That was against his person, this against his pro
pitiation ; they did it against one they accounted a blasphemer, we do it
* Pemble, p. 507.

1 CoE. XI. 27, 29.] unwoethy beceiving of the lobd's suppee. 479
against one we account not only innocent, but a Redeemer. The Jews tore
his body, and an unworthy receiver, saith Chiysostom, defiles it, by putting
the body of Christ into an unclean vessel. The sin is greater, by how much
impurity and defilement ia more against his nature than death and torment.
8. In regard of the relation the ordinance hath to Christ. There is an
analogy between the bread and the wine, and the body and blood of Christ.
The nearer relation anything hath to God, the more heinous is the offence.
To kill a debauched man unjustly, innocent of any crime to deserve death,
is an affronting God in his image. Gen. ix. 6. To neglect uncharitably a
member of Christ is greater, because it ia a despising of Chriat in his mysti
cal body, Mat. xxv. 45. This is greater, because it is an affront to his
body and blood in the picture and representation of him. To fling the
picture of a prince into the kennel, and stamp upon it with contempt, is
treasonable in some placea. A man of quality ia not injured so much by
breaking his earthen vessels, as by defacing and defiling his arms, the marks
of his honour. It disparageth the whole covenant of grace in unworthy usage
of the seals of it. How base a disposition is it to sit down at the table of
a man with an hostile mind againat him ! to atab the master of the feast at
his own table, while he is treating and entertaining us with dainties !
4. It ia a great ain, as it is against the greatest testimony of hia love.
That hand which was afterwards pierced and naUed upon the crosa for us,
did first break this sacrament to us. He appointed it when he was to go
out of the world, when he knew all things were given into his handa, John
xiii. 3 ; when he knew he waa to leave the world, and ait down at the right
hand of his Father ; he would then do a work worthy of himself, to declare
his own liberality to us. It was the firat frait of the power granted to him.
It ia a violation of that marriage knot whereby Chriat would have us be joined
to him, and become his spouae. He only was the author of this. His
crucifixion could not be -without other hands, and the wickedness of many
persons in bringing him to his aufferinga. But this acknowledgeth him only
the author. The motive of his sufferings was the satisfaction of his Father's
justice, as well as his love to us ; thia hath purely hia own love for the spring
of it. His auffering was a part of his obedience ; but the only motive of this
institution was his kindness. And the apostle prefaceth this inatitution (aa it
may seem) vrith a manifestation of hia love, ' having loved his own, he loved
them to the end,' John xiii. 1, as if he could not leave a higher pledge of his
love than this ; since he could not leave himself, he would leave his picture.
III. The danger of this sin, he ' eats and drinks damnation to himself
As the sin ia aet forth in the greatest blackness, so is the punishment in the
greatest dreadfulness. The sin aubjects ua to the aame punishment that
was reaerved for the crucifiers of Chriat. God inflicts upon his own tem
poral corrections, upon final unbelievers etemal ; he useth his rods on
some, his axes on others. It is but reaaon the severity upon the offender
should be proportionable to the communications to the worthy receiver.
Where his liberality is unworthily used, his severity shall be justly felt..
He eats and drinks damnation to himself. Damnation is not the end of
the ordinance, no more than it is the end of the gospel, or of Christ's coming
into the world. The supper was appointed for holy and beneficial ends, but
the unworthiness of the receiver turns that into a sword which was intended
for food. Worms grew from that manna which was intended for a blessing,
when they used it not according to the command of God, Exod. xvi. 20.
Rain is to make the earth fruitful ; and where it meets with a good soil, it
opens the womb of the earth to bring forth wholesome plants ; but where it
hghts upon a bad soil, it brings forth briars and thorns. It is not the fault

480 chabnock's wobks. [1 Coe. XL 27, 29.
of the rain, but the disposition of the ground, whioh produceth hurtful and
venomous plants which are ' nigh unto cursing,' Heb. vi. 7. So the ordin
ance is bread to strengthen, wine to refresh ; but where the wickedness of a
man is mixed with it, there is poison in it, a piercing hook under a delight
ful bait. The word is a savour of life and a savour of death, 2 Cor. ii. 16 ;
a savour of life when mixed with faith, a savour of death when mixed with
unbehef. Where the blood of Christ doth not cure, it inflames a wound ;
where it doth not save, it condemns ; that which is not melted by the sun
grows into a greater hardness. Christ, as a sacrifice on the cross, was
pleasing to God, as the murdered innocent a burden of guilt on tbe Jews ;
so as he is grateful food in tbe sacrament to a worthy receiver, he is the
bane of an unworthy communicant by reason of hia unholiness. It was , a
sad cut to David to be guilty of the blood of Uriah, whoae blood, though not
shed by his hand, was designed by him to be spilt in the service of his
country ; yet how was his soul galled for it, and his son afterwards in the
head of an army against him for hia punishment ? What a crime is it to
kill a child in the womb, who never yet saw the light ? What is it then to
murder the Son of God in the signs of his body, the Saviour of the world, the
king of glory, whose blood is unconceivably more precious than tbe blood
of all men, 'the life of all angels ; doth not this deserve a severe correction ?
IV. The use.
1. The manner of duties must be regarded as well as the matter. The
matter of this ordinance is participated by both the worthy and the unworthy
receiver. The manner makes the difference. The aame matter of prayer
may be put up by two several persons, tbe one accepted, the other rejected;
one offera it with a wicked, the other with a sincere mind, Prov. xxi. 27.
The eating the passover ' otherwise than it was written,' waa dangerous,
and needed Hezekiah's prayer to God for a pardon of them, 2 Chron. xxx.
18. He that came ' without a wedding gai-ment ' could have relished the
sweetness of the meat, but, intruding in an unbecoming garb, was turned
out as unfit for the king's table. As God hath the love of a friend, so he
hath the greatness of a sovereign. He wiU not be treated with as an ordinary
friend, but ' sanctified in all that draw near to him,' Lev. x. 3. His gra
cious indulgence must not diminish our awful thoughts of his majesty.
Though it is a crucified Christ we remember, one clothed with infirmities,
yet it is one that hath dropped hia mantle, and is exalted at the right
of the majesty on high. Since he is God in heaven, we must not be hasty
to present ourselves in an unbecoming garb before him : Eccles. v. 2, ' Let
not thy heart be hasty to utter anything before God, for God is in heaven.'
Circumstances in worship are more than ciphers ; but if they were no more,
take away all the ciphers joined with an unit, how ia the sum curtailed to
nothing ? * The voluntary omission of a circumstance necessary to an
action doth not excuse but aggravate.
2. The hohness of an ordinance will not excuse a miscarriage in it.
Some are nourished by this ordinance, others pollute themselvea. The fruit
is not according to the holiness of the ordinance, but the disposition of the
receiver. Before the destruction of the temple, Ezek. x. 2, God saith,
' Fill thy hand with coals, and Bcatter them over the city.' The fire in the
temple, which they thought was to serve for the expiation of their sin, should
serve for the destruction of the city. The temple hath thunders and light
nings in it as weU as music. Rev. iv. 5. The most wholesome food sinks-|-
under the power of corrupt humoura in the stomach. Nadab and Abihu
were the true priests of God ; they intended to offer incense to the true God.
* Durand. t Qu. ' stinks ' ?— En.

1 CoE. XI. 27, 29.] unwoethy beceiving op the loed's suppee. 481
The incense was according to the mind of God, and the censers were of the
consecrated vessels. They erred only in taking strange fire, which God
had not commanded, and this cost them their livea. Lev. x. 1, 2. We
may have right ordinancea, direct our addresses to the true God ; but the
holiness of those will not excuse the want of heavenly fire, the grace of the
Spirit, and the want of a due value of the mediation of Christ.
3. The sins of those that draw nearest to God are the blackest. Never
waa anything termed a guilt of the body and blood of Christ but the Jews'
wickedness in crucifying, men's apostasy in denying him after knowledge,
and the abuse of this ordinance, and that not only in the unregenerate
Corinthians, but in the best that were guilty of those miscarriages ; he
taxeth whosoever eats and drinks unworthily. An universal particle.
4. The ground of our miachief ia always in ourselves. It ia not from the
emptinesa of the ordinance, that is a full cistern ; nor from the shortness of
God's grace, he ia an overflowing fountain ; but from want of those graces,
or of exercising those gracea, which are the bucket to draw and the mouth
to drink. The plantain ia not poisonous in its nature, but the venomous
nature of the toad turns it into poison. Misery ariseth not from the insuffi
ciency of the sacrament, but the unworthiness ofthe receiver. That judgment
is conveyed to one, when grace is conveyed to another, is our own fault. The
door is open, but unbelief pulls to the door and locks it. The miseries rained
down upon us are but the ascended vapoura of our own sin. Christ hath an
hand to reach the benefit to ua upon our worthiness, and a hand to inflict the
punishment on us upon our abuse; he makes himselfa feast for the believer's
faith, but the unbeliever makea himself a feast for the Redeemer's wrath.
5. We see here the base nature of sin. It changeth the brightest
ordinances, makes the waters of the sanctuary bitter, turns food into poison,
and a cup of aalvation into one of damnation. We fruatrate God's expec
tations when he looks for fruit ; then it is just he should frustrate ours when
we look for food.
6. If an unworthy receiver be guilty of the body and blood of Christ, a
worthy receiver hath a special interest in the body and blood of Christ. He
hath as much advantage thereby as the other hath guilt. The apostle speaks
this to put a bar to the Corinthians' ain, to make them sensible of their un
reasonable miscarriage, not to scare them from the ordinance, but to excite
them to come to it in a becoming manner, so as to honour God and benefit
themselves ; that they might sheathe God's sword, and not draw it against
themselves. Though the Red Sea swallowed up the Egyptians that would
venture into it, yet it was a wall to preserve and deliver the Israelites from
the hands of their enemiea. He that receives worthily, eats and drinks salva
tion to himself, by the rule of contraries. The ordinance comes upon him
like rain, fitting him to bring forth herbs meet for the use of him that dressed
him; and such a person receives blessing from God, Heb. -vi. 7. Certainly
that Christ, that never turned away a little faith without a blessing when he
waa upon earth, will much less now disappoint it when it ia exerciaed on him.
Since in heaven there ia no diminution of his compassion, there ean be no in
crease ofihis severity to such an one.
7. Should not all of us, that have at any time of our livea been partakers
of this ordinance, reflect upon ourselves, yea, the best of us ? Can any of
us say that we never contracted the guilt of the body and blood of Christ ;
that we always had aome worthy dispositiona for him ; that our minds were
never wavering, our hearts never cold, our affections never languishing, our
spfrits, that should have been in heaven, never sunk to the earth ? Is there
not then a partial guilt ? Yet God hath admitted us again and again, spread
VOL. IV. H h

482 chabnock's wobks. [1 Cob. XI. 27, 29.
his table, fiUed his cup, put manna into our mouths, and his cup into our
hands. Wonderful patience in God, to bear with a wonderful sin in us !
' Deliver me from blood-guiltiness, 0 God,' may be the cry of every one of
us, aa it waa Darid's, Ps. li. 14. How often have we wounded him that
hath deUvered us, kiUed him that hath saved ua, abused that blood that was
the price of no less than the redemption of our aoula and bodies ! Who
doth not condemn the Jews for crucifying the Lord of life in bia infirmities ?
And ought we not as well to condemn ourselves for crucifying the Lord of
life in his glory ?
8. How, then, should we take heed, whenever we approach to the Lord's
table, of any unworthy demeanour towards him, whereby to contract such
guilt and incur such displeasure ? How should we endeavour after as clear
affections to Christ as he bears to us, with meltings of heart and faintings
of soul for him ? We receive benefit according to our worthiness. Aa we
prepare our souls for God, so he prepares himaelf for ua : Isa. Ixiv. 5, ' Thou
meeteat him that rejoiceth and worka righteousness, that remembers thee
in thy ways.' He is a feast of fat thinga to them that have faith to re
ceive him. If we value not the pledges of his love, we shall bear the
marks of his indignation. Adam, the ffrst rebel of mankind, had the sweet
ness of a promiae, and was not given up to that juatice of God which he
had provoked, and the malice of that devil whose temptation he had
swallowed. Nor was Peter, who, in the denial of his loving Master in so base
a manner, had gratified the devil, given up to be winnowed by him. But the
first that ever offended in an unworthy receiving the Supper (if he did re
ceive it) was, without remedy, given up as a possession to that devil who
had animated him to his treacherous design. It is a dreadful eating when
attended with such a sin and such a judgment. To receive worthily is to be
affected with the sufferings of Christ; the cause of those sufferings, sin; the
end of those sufferings, redemption from the guilt and filth of sin ; the ac
ceptation of those sufferings by God, the confirmation of the fruits of them ;
to cast ourselves into the arms of a crucified Saviour, washing our souls in
his blood ; pleading his merits before God, humbly and believingly applying
them to ourselves. Let us, then, raise up our spirits, drink deep of the
cup of salvation, drink abundantly of that love which is sweeter than wine.
If we come before him in a becoming posture,, with our hearts burning,
our soula thirsting, our drooping faith may be then revived, our closed
eyes opened, dark shades may fly away. The disciples that knew not Christ
in the way, neither by the features of his countenance, nor the spirituality
of his discourse, yet knew him in the efficacy of a sacrament, if that were
the celebration of it, as some think, which is mentioned Luke xxiv. 30, 81.
He withheld his grace before, to honour this ordinance with it. Let, then,
the bounty of Christ engage us.* He hath not given us a hand or an arm,
his head or his feet, a few drops of his blood, but his whole body, his whole
soul, his graces, his virtues, the fruits of his death, to be participated by us,
to be insouled with us. He hath given himself wholly for a sacrifice ; he
hath given himself wholly in a aacrament ; a greater gift could not be given
on the cross ; a greater gift cannot be given at a table. He is given for our
comfort, our refreshment, our physic, our victory. The relation the sacra
ment hath to the sacrifice, and the benefits conveyed to us, call for a be
coming carriage from us. Let us discern the Lord's body, which is the
mystery and subject of the sacrament ; value it in its due rank as the price
of our redemption, the delight of God, the admiration of angels, a body that
hath nothing comparable unto it in the whole world.
* Lingend, de Eucharist, p. 185.

A DISCOURSE OF SELF-EXAMINATIOK

Examine yourselves, whether ye be in the faith ; prove your own selves : know
ye not your own selves, how that Jesus Christ is in you, except ye be repro
bates?— 2 Co-r. xni. 5.
The apostle having blamed the Corinthians for some enormities among
them, and knowing there were some that had not repented of them, comes
now to a conclusion of his epistle, and assures them, that if he should come
again to them, he would not spare them, but be sharp against them with hia
ecclesiastical censures. And as for such who had not been guilty of those
crimes, yet had mean thoughts of the apostle, and would have some eminent
proof of his apostleship, or of Christ speaking in him, ver. 8, he refers him
self to them, and makea them the judges of it, whether they had not found
the mighty operation of Christ in him. For as though Christ's being cruci
fied evidenced his being subject to the infirmities of man and the penalty of
the law, yet his resurrection and his glory is an evidence of the power of
God in him and with him ; so though I be weak, yet you yourselves bear
arguments in you of the power of God, working in the apostleship, which I
have exercised among you, and therefore ' examine your own selves,' and try
whether there be not a mighty change wrought in your soula, ' whether you
are not in the faith,' and quite'other men than you were. If you find not
such effects, assure yourselves you are not yet in the state of true Chriatianity.
Some understand this of Chriat being in them in regard of the miraculous
gifts, the gifts of miracles, tongues, and healing ; and understand by faith
here, a faith of miraclea, which was a special gift, and very resplendent in
the primitive church. But that doth not seem to be the sense of it, for the
possessing such gifts is not a sign of election, nor the want of them a pre
sage of reprobation, or a testimony of insincerity. Mfracles may be wrought
by those that have not a justifying and saving faith. Judas had the same
commiasion with the rest ofthe apoatles, at Christ's ffrst sending them out
in the time of his life ; and we may well conjectm-e, that miracles were
wrought by him, as well as by hia colleagues, in that employment. Besides,
it cannot be manifested that those gifts were bestowed upon every member
of the primitive church, but only upon some called out by God for that pur
pose. And if by faith be understood here a faith of miracles, whereby they
should try themselves whether Christ was in them, those that had not that
gift conferred upon them had no evidence of their being in Christ ; or at

484 chabnock's wobks. [2 Cob. XIH. 5.
least, had not so illustrioua an eridence as the others had, who outstripped the
rest of their brethren in those miraculoua powers. Tbe gift of miracles was
an evidence that Christ was in those instruments, in regard of hia power, but
true faith only is an evidence that Christ is in a man in regard of his grace.
Examine yourselves, nii^d^iri. Tempt youraelves. The word tempting
is sometimes taken for trying, aa when God ia said to tempt Abraham in
commanding him to sacrifice his son, to know or make known to him that
he feared Glod, Gen. xxii. 1, 12.
Prove yourselves, Aoxijjid^ire, Try yourselves as goldsmiths do metals ;
prove yourselves, that you may know experimentally what is iu you.
Aoxi/ji,ri is used for experience, Rom. v. 5.
The phrase speaks dihgence in this work, the repetition intimatea both
diligence and frequency ; what is not known in one act, may be known in
repeated acta. Self examination ia a duty in all cases, the repetition speaks
necessity ; it implies also men's natural backwardness to it.
Know you. not your ,own selves. It implies the folly and unreasonableness
of the neglect of it, also the possibihty and easiness, upon a due and diligent
inquiry, to know whether Christ be in ua or no.
How that Christ is in you. Whether the power (rf Christ hath not wrought
in you to the transforming your soul.
Unless you be reprobates, 'Adoxifioi. The;apostle doth not understand by
the word reprobates, auch as are eternally rgected by God, as reprobates
are opposed to the elect. Those that had not Chriat in them at that time
might have him afterwards, the work of conversion being daily promoted in
tbe church ; but reprobates, i.e. counterfeit, adulterate, not yet purified and
refined from your dross, or, unless you are unapproved or void of judgment,
or unexperienced in the ways of Christ. And he puts jo,^ n, a diminutive
term, unless you be aomewhat and in part sincere. Or it may go further,
and the apostle might mean thus : if after the power of Christ, which hath
appeared so gloriously among you, you find no strong operation in your own
souls towards bim, you have reason to suspect that you are not owned by
him, that he may give you over to yourselves.
The protestants confirm the doctrine of fhe possibility of assurance, and
a man's knowledge of himself to be in a state of grace from this text, which
doctrine the papists impugn.* It is strange that some of the schoolmen,
who assert that a man may by the strength of pure naturala love God above
all thinga, yet deny that a man oan know that he loves God above all.
In the verse, observe,
1. The duty* expressed : examine yourselves, prove yourselves.
2. The matter ofit : whether you be in the faith.
3. The enforcement and motive : except you are reprobates.
Doct. Self-examination is a necessary duty, belonging to every one in the
church, and requires much diligence in the performing of it.
Hence some observe, that when it is expressed that God created man in
his own image, — Gen. i. 27, ' In the image of God created he him,'-^the word
is Elohim, which is a name of God belonging to his judicial acts, which
imply trial and examination ; in the image of Elohim created he him, i.e.
with a power of aelf-trial and self-judging. Thia self-examination is an
exact and thorough search into a man'a self an exquisite consideration in
what posture he stands to God. The word ia the rule, a glass wherein we
see God's will ; and conscience is the examiner, that is, the glass wherein
we see our lives and the motions of our hearta, and which, by the help ofthe
word, doth disaect and open the soul to itaelf.
* Oatbarin, in loc.

2 CoE. XIII. 5.] SELF-EXAMINATION. 485
I shall not prosecute this doctrine fully, only lay down some conclusions.
1. It ia a necessary duty, in regard of our comfort. What good doth it
do a man to hear that a Christ is sent to redeem, that a ransom ia paid, that
sin is pardonable, hell avoidable, heaven attainable, upon the conditions of
faith, and not know whether he hath so advantageous a grace in him, which
only entitles him to such glorious privilegea ? What comfort in Christ, in
his meritorioua passion, in his triumphant resurrection and ascension, in his
prevalent intercession, unless we know that by faith we are united to him,
and consequently have an interest in all the gracious fruits of his different
states of humihation and exaltation ? If we can find this grace in our aoula,
what a joy unspeakable- doth result from thenoe ? Christ aa a king will pro
tect my sdul, Christ as a priest hath expiated my sins, Christ as a prophet vrill
remove my ignorance ; my soul was in his mind upon the cross, my concerns
are in his breast in heaven, my name is enrolled in the register ofhis subjects.
It is necessary,
(1.) Because there are common gracea. Aa there is an outward and
inward call, so there is an outward profession and an inward transformation.
There are some virtuea come from the hand of God as creator, and some
immediately from the Spfrit as a renewer ; some common virtuea for the pre
servation of human society, and aome special graces for the fabric of an
invisible church. There is an acceptation of the law for an outward practice,
without an affection to the lawgiver, or an esteem of the spirituality of the
law itself. There is a sanctification in opposition to Judaism, or Paganism,
or some erroneous opinion ; whioh is common to those that may apostatise,
Heb. X. 29. The apostle calls the church of Corinth saints : 1 Cor. i. 2,
' called to be saints ;' saints by vocation outwardly, not aU saints by a new
vocation inwardly.
(2.) Becauae there are counterfeit graces. There is much false coin in the
world, washed pewter and gilded brass ; there are sepulchres garnished out
wardly, and full of rottenness and stench within ; there are many that want
not their artifices in religion as well aa in common converae. Good thinga
may be imitated when they are not rooted. We have heard of some limners
that have represented Christ so to the life as to deceive artists as skilful as
themselves. The apostle speaks of ' a dead faith,' James ii. 26, which is hke
the carcase of a man without life, a faith that deserves no more the name
of faith than the carcase doth the title of a man when the enlivening and
principal part is fled. There is a ' repentance unto life,' Acts xi. 18, which
supposeth a dead repentance, such as Ahab's humiliation, like marble sweating
tears in moist and rainy weather without any mollifying of the natural hard
neaa, or Judas his sorrow, raised by the fire in his conscience, not hke Peter's,
by the spiritual influence of his Master. There is a ' hvely hope,' 1 Peter
i. 3, which supposeth a dead hope ; there is a ' hvely stone,' 1 Peter iii. 5,
which imphea that there are hfeless stones, that are not inwardly fitted and
prepared for the spiritual building. The buUdihg upon the rock and the sand
might have the aame beauty, form, and ornaments, but not the same founda
tion ; one was stable and the other tottering. There is a ' repentance to
wards God,' Aots XX. 21, when the dishonour of God afflicts us, whioh implies
there is a repentance towards ourselves, when the danger of our own persons
atarts a pretended Borrow for sin. There is a faith that is sound and lasting,
a faith that ia temporary and perishing, a faith that atarts up hke a mushroom
in a night, and withers at the next scorching temptation. There is a faith
common with derils, and a faith proper to Christians ; there is a faith of
Chriat and a faith in Christ.
(3.) Because every man ia in a state of grace or nature. There is a state

486 chabnock's wobks. [2 Cob. XIII. 5.
of grace, Rom. v. 1, a state of wrath, Eph. n. 3. The world ia made up of
receivers of Chriat or rejecters of him, true subjects to God or rebels against
him. There are two families, the family of God and the family of the devil.
The risible church was not without ita diatinction. The ark contains unclean
as well aa clean beaata. There ia a Cain in Adam's family, a Ham in Noah's
ark, an Ishmael in Abraham's house, and a Judas in our Sariour's retinue ;
apd at the last day the whole world will be distinguished into two only kinds,
of sheep and goats. It is necesaary therefore to inquire whose we are, whe
ther we belong to the God of heaven or the god of this world ; whether we
have the renewed image of God,' or still retain the old stamp of the devil.
2. It is a duty that requires diligence and care. That which ia of infinite
consequence in the state of your souls, ought not to be built upon sandy and
slight foundations. It is called communing with a man's own heart, Ps. iv.
4, not a slight glance and away ; sweeping and looking with a candle, Luke
XV. 8, wherewith every cranny and chink is pried into ; trying of the reins,
which are parts of the body hidden with fat. There must be a careful removing
of several thinga to come at them ; a searching for some precious filings of
gold in a heap of dust ; an employing all the facultiea of the soul in a dili
gent search: Ps. Ixxvii 6, ' My spirit made dihgent search.' It is expressed
by counting, Ps. cxix. 59, ' I thought on my ways,' TIDETI ; he looked over
the acta of his soul one by pne. The heart is called the ' inward parta' or
depths ' of the belly,' Prov. xx. 7. As the bowels are folded together in many
coats and coverings, that they are not easily come to, so the heart of man is
full of devices.
(1.) Diligence is requisite, because the work is difficult. It is no easy
matter to be acquainted with ourselves. The sonl is not well acquainted
with its own features, and preserves not the species of itself ' We behold
our faces in a glass, and soon forget what manner of men we are,' James i.
23, 24. As man ia apt to know anything but himself, so it is more easy for
him to know anything than himself, as the eye sees everything but itself
There must be diligence to discern the rational workings of our soul, to
know whether we truly understand such a thing, or really and firmly vrill
such a good. The judgment of man is corrupted, and misrepresents things
like a cracked glass.* We can more easily judge of a bodily than of a spi
ritual diaeaae, becauae the understanding which should judge of the atate of
the soul ia aickly and Ul-affected itself Our wiUs also being so changeable,
sometimes set on one thing and sometimes flitting to another, the spfritual
workings of them are not so readily discernible. This work is done by a
reflex act ; and reflex acts, in spirituals as well as naturals, are weakest and
more languishing, whereas direct acts are more powerful and vigorous. Where
grace ia amaU and corruptiona many, it muat be hard to diacem it, as it is for
an eye to discern a amaU needle, especially if in the duat and rabbish. The
roots of sin also lie deepj like Achan's wedge of gold in the earth, not easily
to be found without good dfrections. Lust liea in secret corners ; there is a
deceitfulness of it, subtle evasions, and specious pretences : consideration is
requisite to the discerning of them. External acts discover themselves, but
the inward acts of the soul, which are the sureat evidencea, are not discern
ible without a diligent inspection. The natural inconstancy and lerity of
our spirits divert us, and the streams of our corruptions cloud and bemitf us,
and control our endeavours in self examination, that we cannot sometimes
any more fixedly behold the motions of grace than we can see the beams of
the sun in a black and mourning sky.
(2.) Diligence is requisite, because man is naturally unwilhng to this
* Preston. f Qu- ' bemist ' ?— En.

2 Coe. XIII. 5.] selp-examination. 487
duty. He would live anywhere but with himself, think of anything but him
self, delights most in those things which hinder him from a consideration of
hia own atate. Men are more wiUing to have their minds rove through all
the parta of nature than to buBy themselves in self-reflection, would read any
book or relation rather than the history of their own heart. We are nearest
to ouraelves physically, and furthest from our own selves morally. Men
whose titles are cracked and unsure are loath to have them tried before the
judge, and come under the siftings of conscience. Ever since the fall
we run counter to God ; it ia the property of the divine nature firat to know
himaelf, and then to know other thinga ; but we are cross, would know any
other*thing but not ourselves, would read others, and not ao much as spell
ourselves. We naturally abhor any actions wherein we may be like God,
though they are the most proper operations for our souls, and suitable to
the nature of them, as reflex aots are. There being in us a contrariety to
God and hia law, to God and his gospel, there results from thence an unwiU
ingness in us to bring our hearta under the examination of conacience, that
power which acts by authority and deputation from God. And when grace
doth egg us at any time to the performance of the duty, do not our hearts
hang back, and our corruptiona check ua in it ? Satan is no mean inatru
ment in this : he is said to bhnd the world, that they might not know their
state. He hath lost his likeness to God in his primitive happinesa, and
ever aince envies man the recovery of that likeness which is possible to man
and impossible to himaelf, and therefore diverts him from all glances towards
it, and endeavours after it, the first step to which is self-reflection.
This unwillingness ariseth,
[1.] From Carnal self-love. It is natural to man to think well of himself,
and suffer his afiections to bemist or bridle his judgment. A biassed person
cannot be a just judge. Every man is his own flatterer, and so conceals
himself from himself Very few that are uncomely in body, or deformed in
mind, but think themselves as handsome and honest as others. David so
loved himself that he saw nothing of hia sin, but waa fair in his own eyes
till Nathan roused him up by telling him, ' Thou art the man.' Every man
would be ' right in his own eyes,' Prov. xvi. 2. Every blackamore fancies
himself to have a comely colour. This self-love may so far bemist a good
man, that he may not helieve such an act to be a crime, such an excuse to
be a fig leaf, such a mark to be unsound. And thia self-love keeps men off
from this work, for fear they should behold their own guilt, and their aouls
be stung with anguish. Men that are bankrupts are loath to cast up their
accounts, lest it should appear to them that they are undone. Some are
loath to see their ugly faces in a glass. Conscience, awakened by this
duty, bites apd stings, and men are loath to impair their own ease because
they would escape the din of an accuser in their own bosoms ; they tum
fugitives from their own hearts, and would rather go to hell in a feather bed
than to heaven in a fiery chariot. While man seeks nothing more than him
self in a sinful way, he conceals himself and files furthest from himself in a
reflexive way.
[2.] From presumption and security. Some walk as securely as if there
were no heaven, and it concerned them not ; others walk as presumptuously
as though they were heirs-apparent unto it, and yet have no title. Many wiU
have a false persuasion of thefr faith and interest in Christ at the last day,
Mat. vii. 22, and cry, 'Lord, Lord !' and the foohsh virgins will knock aa
confidently and expect entrance to the feast as well as the wise, will not
believe but they have a title to heaven till Christ himself clap the door upon
them, and manifest the contrary. Had they raked in their own souls and

488 chabnock's woeks. [2 Cob. XIH. 5.
been plain dealers with themselves, they could not but have found them
selves in a lost condition. Those that thus presume cannot endure to heap '
of the differences between hypocrisy and sincerity, how far a castaway may
go in religion. This was the reason the pharisees were such enemies to
Christ, because he raked in their consciences ; they could never come near
him, but he brought some indictment against them of hypocrisy. As Ter
tuUian caUed heretics lucifuga scripturarum, because they would not be cured
of thefr errors, ao are Buch men also afraid to bring their hearts to the test
of the word, because they would not be cured of their false presumptions.
As Ahab hated Micaiah, so theae thefr own consciences, because they expect
to hear that from them whioh they think evil, and cannot have such a view
of themselves in that glass as they desire to have.
(3.) Diligence is requisite, because man is hardly induced to continue in
this work. " That self love which makes them unwiUing to enter upon it, ren
ders them unfit to make any progress in it. When we do begin it, bow
quickly do we faint in it ! How aoon are our first glances upon ourselves
turned to a fixedness upon aome shghter object ! Every man's heart is like
an unruly horse, that wiU be going out of the way if there be not a reaolution
to check it in its first starts, and bring thinga to a judicial trial. The heart
itself is so hght and fluttering, that it wants the stability of grace to fix it in
the trial of grace.
(4.) Diligence is requisite, because we are naturally apt to be deceived
and to delude ourselves. Our natural blindness and dimness render us hable
to mistake, and our deceitful heart may sing a requiem to ua while we are fools.
We have a subtle enemy that liea in wait fbr ua, who can transform himaelf
into an angel of hght, and diaguise his serpentine hisainga to make them
appear hke the breathings of the Spirit. If Adam in innocence, who had
an abUity to discern his methods, was deluded by him, much more may
we be deceived by him in a atate of corruption, when our hearts naturally
have his stamp, and are inclined to take his part and join with him in a
self-deceit : ' The heart of man ia deceitful,' Jer. xvii. 9. It ia the great
impostor and cheat of the world, the antichrist within us, the deceiver of
our souls, as the great antichrist ia called the deceiver of the nations. How
apt are we to take upon truat what our heart first speaks ! James and
John could tell Christ that they were able to drink of his cup, and no ques
tion they meant aa they spake. Mat. xx. 22 ; but had it come to a trial,
they would not have endured to sip of it ; and the issue manifested it :
they turned their backs upon him, as well as the other disciples. The
Israelites, had they tried themselves by their present resolution, Deut. v. 27,
' All that the Lord our God shall speak unto thee we will hear and do it,'
might have Bubscribed themselves as pious as any in the world ; they spake
no other than they meant. But God had a further inspection into them
than they had into themselves : ver. 9, ' Oh that there were such a heart
in them that they would fear me, and keep my commandments always ! '
Natural conscience is often silenced by a pretence and a show, and a man
is naturally apt to make his own corrupt judgment, sometimes also his pas
sion, the standard of good and evil, and not only to frame grace according
to his own affections, but a god also : Ps. 1. 21, ' Thou thoughtest that I was
altogether such an one as thyself The apostle intimates it in that signal
mark of caution, when he presseth a truth to which natural conscience 'will
subscribe, that 'neither fornicators, nor idolaters, nor adultererB, nor effemi
nate, nor covetous, nor drunkards, shall inherit the kingdom of God;' 1 Cor.
V. 9, 'Be not deceived,' saith he : even in theae things men may deceive
themselves with false hopea, much more in moral righteousness. Many

2 Cob. XIII. 5.] ' selp-examination. 489
hoast themselves rich in spirituals when they are really poor ; so did Lao
dicea think herself rich when God gave her another inventory of her estate,
that she was ' poor and miserable, and blind and naked,' Rev. ui. 17.
There is too much resting in the world upon outward privileges,* and often
beggars conceit themselves princes becauae they dream of Bceptrea. How
many extend their hopea as far as their wishes, and these as far as a fond
fancy and imagination !
(5.) Dihgence is neceasary, because to be deceived in this is the most
stinging consideration. To drop into hell when a man takes it for granted
that he is in heaven, to dream of a crown on the head when the fetters are
upon the feet, wiU double the anguish. It is better for a rich man to dream
that he is a beggar, for when he awakes his fears vanish, than for a beggar
to dream that he is rich, for when his dream ends his sorrow begins. The
higher the false conceit, the lower do men sink when they fall ; the higher
men's expectations of heaven are without ground, the more stinging is their
loaa of it.t To have vain hopes, till God puts us into the scale and weighs
us, will be a miserable disappointment. For a man to deceive himaelf
aggravatea this ; as aelf-murdef ia accounted a greater siu than the murder
of another, because it is against that charity to ourselves which is the copy
and rule of charity to another.
(6.) DUigence ia necessary, because many have miscarried for want of it.
Thousands that have thought themselvea in the auburba of heaven, have
been cast down to the depths of hell. If all should be saved that think they
shall be saved, the strait way would be that whioh leads to hell ; for what
man is there almost that doth not confidently believe he shall be happy ?
How many dream they are going to paradise, and when they awake find
themselvea in the devil's arms !
II. The use.
1. If this be our duty, to examine ourselves, then the knowledge of our
state ia poaaible. If we are to examine ouraelves, we may then know our
selves. Reflection and knowledge of self is a prerogative of a rational nature.
We know that we have souls by the operations of fhem.'l We may know
that we have grace by the effects of it, if we be dihgent ; as we may know
by the beame of the sun that the sun is riaen, if we shut not our eyes.
Grace chiefly lies in the will, and it discovers itself in actions. The more
raiaed any being is, the more active it is. The being of a God is known by
the effects of his power in the world, and the being of faith is known by the
operations of it in the heart and life. Though gold and that which is gilt
be like in appearance, yet the true nature of each of them may be discerned
by the touchstone. Hypocritical grace is like true grace, but it is not the
same. Sincerity may be known. If we cast but a glance upon our hearts
in any word or action, we may know whether we mean as we speak or do,
or whether we have any by-ends in it. The discerning of habitual sincerity
is not so easy as the knowledge of an integrity in a particular act; yet if we
keep a due watch over the motions of our hearts and the actions of our lives
as they come upon the stage, and consider what thefr ends are, it will not
be so difficult to know ouraelves. It is impossible a man's will should steal
by him in all the actions it produceth, and a man be ignorant and insensible
of it. The spirit and conscience of a man may know such things as are in
it, both the liabita it hath and particular motives to this or that act : 2 Cor.
ii. 11, ' The spirit of a man that is in him knowa the thinga of a man.' If
men would be more inward in conversing with thefr own hearts, they might
* Vaughan, Serm. p. 6, 7 t Miserum est fuisse felicem.
J Cogito ergo sum is the first principle in the new philosophy.

490 chabnock's woeks. [2 Coe. XIH. 5.
have an acquaintance vrith the concerna of thefr soula, as their sense hath
with outward objecta. There can be no sufficient reason given why the un
derstanding should not as weU know the acts of the soul and vrill, as tbe acts
of the sense and the motions of the body. We know our particular passions
and the exercisea of them. There is no man that fears a danger, or loves
an amiable object, but he knows hia own acta about them, aa weU as the
object of those acta. If a man have faith and love, why should he not be
as able to know the acts of faith and love as to know the acta of hia parti
cular affectiona ? This is easy, if we did live more with ourselves, and
oftener exercise that prerogative of reflection which we have above beasts.
It is difficult indeed in regard of our corruption ; aa the law is said to be
weak, not in itself it was able to answer the end for which God appointed
it, and man by the endowments of hia creation was able to observe it ; but
it became weak to make men happy, and man impotent to conform to it,
through the flesh, Rom. viii. 3, by the entrance of corruption. It is the
same corruption of man which renders this knowledge of himself difficult.
He lives too much abroad out of hia own soul, and too little within, other
wise there is no doubt but he may know his own wUl, and the habitual in
clination of it.
2. How foolish is the neglect of this duty ! How many ramble about the
world without acquainting themselves with their own hearts, or considering
whether Christ be in them ! What advantage can there be in the knowledge
of other things, if we know not whether there be any operations of grace in
our own souls ! How few give themselves the opportunity of a serious re
tirement ! How unreasonable is it to rest satisfied with underground hopes
of heaven, to call ourselves citizens of Jerusalem above, and have no copy
of our freedom to shew, nor any living witness in us to bear testimony for
us ! It ia against nature to desire to be in any company rather than our
own, to endeavour to know everything in the world rather than ourselves,
which is the first object of knowledge. Should that reason which God hath
given us, more excellent than the nature of beasts, be employed about exam
ining everything but ourselves ?
3. Use of exhortation.
It is our highest advantage to know what should become of our souls in
eternity. Is it a small thing to be within the verge of the wrath of God ?
And is not the knowledge of this necessary, if we be in such a caae that we
may avoid it ? Or is it a small thing to be an heir of heaven ? Are justi
fication, adoption, acceptation, amall privilegea ; faith, love, repentance, small
graces ? Is not the knowledge of them necessary, that we may have the
comfort of them ? May not some convenient space of time be every day
spent in this ? May I not say, as Christ to his disciples, ' Can you not watch
one hour ? ' Can you not spare one hour for so great and necessary a work?
Let us enter therefore into the bosom of our heart, and see whether we have
a true faith, such as Abraham's; whether it be such a hvely faith that hath
freed our souls in part from the mud of our corruptions ; whether it be a faith
resting upon Christ for salvation, without giving indulgence to the least offence
to him ? Such a faith that purifies the heart, reforms the life, inflames the
soul with a love to God, causing us to rejoice in him, and in any further
degree of conformity to him ? Whether it engenders in us a serious desire
and a suitable endeavour to obey Christ ? Such a faith that relies upon his
promises without slighting bis precepts ?
III. I shaU, lastly, give you some directions about this duty of self-examina
tion. 1. Acquaint yourselves with those marks that are proper only to a true

2 Cob. XIIL 5.] self-examination. 49]"
Christian. Overlook all those that are common with the hypocrite, such as
outward profession, constant attendances, some affectiona in dutiea. Let
us not judge ourselvea by outward acta ; a player is not a prince because he
acta the part of a prince. But we must judge ouraelves by what we are in
our retirements, in our hearts. He only is a good man, and doth good, that
doth it from a principle of goodness within, and not from fear of laws, or to
gain a good opinion in the world. Grace is of that nature, that it cannot
possibly have any by-end. As it is the immediate birth of God, so it doth
immediately respect God in ita actinga. In the very nature of it, it aims at
God, as to love him, believe in him. The great accusation the devil brings
againat Job was, thfet he served not God for nought, that his service was not
sincere, that he acted a righteous part for his own enda, and to preserve his
worldly prosperity. Job i. 9, 10. But if our ends be right, and our actions
in the courae of them according to his rule, if our hearta in them respect
God'a law and his glory, how will the devil's arrows drop down, aa shot
against a brazen wall ! The inward bent and the habitual delight and affec
tion of our hearts, is chiefly to be eyed, whether they are in God or in other
things. This was the apostle's way of trial : Rom. vii. 22, ' I delight in the
law of God after the inward man ;' and what the incitements are to your
profeasion and service, whether they are not bare affections, moveable pas
sions, carnal interests, a good education, a working fancy, &c. Take those
marks, which are inconsistent with hypocrisy, ' such as accompany salva
tion,' Heb. vi. 9, and necessarily infer a truth of grace. Begin at the lowest
step of true and sincere grace, inquire not at first into the marks of an high
and towering faith, of the eminent degrees of it. This would be to put a
giant's suit upon an infant's back, and judge ouraelvea not men, because tbe
garments fit us not. A smaU beam will manifest that the sun doth peep out
of a cloud; but larger ones, and more spread, evidence that it hath got a
full victory. Have a right notion of true grace, and though grace be little,
yet you may know it; aa if a man hath a true notion of a diamond, though
never so small, he can truly say that is a diamond as well as if it were bigger.
Though a gracious spirit may not have grace enough to satisfy its desires,
yet it may find grace enough to settle ita soul. There may be grace enough
to give a man an interest in Christ, though there be not a full strength to
answer all the obligationa of the goapel. Let ua examine, firat, the truth of
grace, and afterwards the height of grace. A little of the coarsest gold is
more valuable than much of the finest brass. See how the habitual frame
and inclination of the heart stands. A heart set upon heaven discovera the
treasures of the heart to be there. See whether we have David's temper, to
' hate every false way,' or Paul's, to ' have a conscience void of offence to
wards God ' in regard of his service, as weU as towards man in regard of his
converse; not to neglect anything towards God that conscience tella us is our
duty to him. One sound'and undeniable mark is better than a thousand dis
putable ones.
2. Let us make the word of God only our rule in trials. This ia the only
impartial friend we can stick to, and therefore it ought to be made our main
counsellor. ' The word is the principle whereby grace ia wrought, and it is
the medium whereby grace ia known.* The word is that whereby we must
judge of doctrine, ' to the law and to the testimony.' If an angel from
heaven speaka any other thing than what God hath delivered, he is not
to be heard. It is also the rule whereby we must judge of graces. If con
science speak anything for a man's comfort, that ia not according to the
word, it ia to be silenced ; if conacience preaenta us with anything as a grace,
* Principium essendi et oognosoendi.

492 chabnock's woeks. [2 Cob. XIII. 5.
that will not hold water before God, it is to be rejected in that case ; bring
it to the touch-stone to see if itj be current coiil. Aa we are to try other
men'a apirita, so our own, by this rule ; it ia a part of man's ainful ambition
to be his own judge, and so to make his own fancy hia rule. The Scripture
beam is like a sunbeam, it will discover the most inward, and the most
minute, thing, Heb. iv. 12 ; it will reveal the deceitful contrivances and
sophistry of the heart. This word must try us at last, it ia to be the rule of
the last judgment, to salvation or condemnation ; let it be the rule of our
self-judgment. It ia safe for us to take that rule which God himself wUl
, take, and take in good part whatsoever the word saith ; if it shew us oan-
evil, let us change our course ; if it speak good, let us be thankful to God, and
give him the rent-charge and tribute due to him for it.
3. Take not the first dictates of conscience. ' He that trusts hia own
heart is a fool,' Prov. xxviii. 26, i. e. without a diligent inquisition, it is not
wisdom to do so, ' but he that walks wisely ahall be delivered ; ' he that makes
a atrict inquiry into it, ahall be delivered from its anarea and hia own fears.
It ia a aearching, examining, proving our hearts, that ia required, not taking
them at the first word. There may be gold at the top, and dross at the
bottom. We are naturaUy quick of belief of those things we would have and
desire ; we ahould be jealoua of theae hearta which have ao often deceived
us, aa we are of those who have often broken their word. Whatsoever it
speaka, suspend your belief of its sentence, till you have well examined the
ground and reasons why it gives in such a report ; if it tella yoij, you are in
a good state, that you are penitents, believers, have a choice love to God, an
eye fixing on the glory of God aa your end, bring it to the teat, examine why
it aaith ao. We have here to do with the greateat impostor, and in other
things we will not give credit to a cheater. Therefore our searching often in
Scripture is joined with trying. We must not only search out our graces,
but try whether they be of the right stamp, and have tbe mark of God upon
them. Examination and proof must go together in this act, as they do in
the text.
4. In all, implore the assistance of the Spirit of God. Natural conscience
is not enough in this case, there must be the influence of the Spirit ; it is
God's interpreter that can only ' shew unto a man his righteousness,' Job
xxriii. 23. The sun must give light, before the glass can reflect the beams.
Grace cannot be discerned, if the Spirit obscure and hide itself In the night,
the beautiful colours in a room are by the darkness, as it were, buried from
the sight ; but when the sun discharges its beams into tbe chamber, they are
enlivened, and affect our sense. There may be graces in the soul which
appear not, if the Spirit withdraws his light ; but when he displays himself^
they will appear in their true lustre. In aU our triala of ourselves, let us beg
of God to try ua. When David had been ransacking his heart, he would not
rest in hia own endeavours, but begs of God to open his heart more fully to
his knowledge, and blesa him with a perfect diacovery of it : Ps. oxxrix. 21-23,'
' Do not I hate them which hate thee ? I hate them with a perfect hatred.'
I think, I conclude I do ; but lest my conclusions may be wrong, do thou,
0 God, ' search me and know my heart, try me and know my thoughts,' i.'e.
make my heart and thoughts, and bent of them, visible and "fully discernible
to me.5. Let us take heed that, while we examine our graces and find them, our
hearts be not carried out to a resting upon them. We may draw some com
fort from them, but must check the least inchnation of founding our justifi
cation upon them. Graces are signs, not causes, of justification. Christ's
righteousness only is our wedding-garment, our graces are but as the frmges

2 Cob. XIII. 5.] self-examination. 493
of it. Liberty is a sign the malefactor is pardoned, but it is not the cause
of his pardon, but the king'a merciful grant. God is a jealoua God, and ia
likely there to withdraw his hand, where the glory of his works shall be attri
buted to anything below him, and hia gifta made equal with his Son ; and
therefore as one saith,* in our triala of ourselves we ahould do as men with
a pair of compasses, fix one foot in the centre while they move the other
about the circumference ; so let our souls rest in Christ, and hold him with
one hand, while with the other we turn over the leaves of our hearts, and be
inquisitive after our evidences. Our justification is not by any inherent
grace, but our justification is known to ua by the grace we find in ourselvea.
6. In case we find ouraelves not in auch a condition as wo desire, let us
exercise direct acts of faith. Let us not deject ourselves, and make so bad
a conclusion aa Peter did, and say to Christ, ' Lord, depart from me, for I
am a sinful man ;' but let us cast ourselves upon the truth and faithfulness
of God in the promise of hfe in Christ. Lay hold on the promise of hfe, as
if you had not laid hold of it before. When comfort ia not fetched in by
reflex acta, let faith be exercised in direct aets ; when there is darkness and
no light, ' trusting in the name of the Lord,' and 'staying upon God,' is the
proper buainess of the soul, Isa. I. 10 ; we should then drink of the waters
of hfe, groan under our sin, and go to a Saviour ; ' forget,' as Paul, ' the
things that are behind, and press forward to the thinga which are before,'
Phihp. iii. 13, 14. We naturally would believe God upon his deed, and
trast in him, becauae we find aomething wrought in our own souls ; God
therefore sometimes hides a man's own graces from him, to draw out the
soul in acts of faith, which indeed givea the mos^ glory to God. God will be
believed upon hia word, and God turns it often to the great advantage of the
sonl, and puts it upon the exercise of faith, when he denies it the comfortable
sight of faith. In this case we should make use of such Scriptures whioh
may foment and nourish faith, and put ua upon the caating out that filth and
mud in our souls' which we diacemed. When we oan find no grace to pre
sent Chriat with, we should fetch grace from him. A city of refuge is for a
malefactor, a physician for the sick, and a Chriat for thoae that groan under
• the burden of sin ; a Chriat lifted up and dying, for those that are stung by
the aerpent.
To conclude. Let us be frequent in this work. Let us not neglect a pri
vilege God hath invested us with above other creaturea below ua. There is
nothing can reflect upon itself, inquire into the nature of its own being, but
man ; and shall we only resemble the beaata, to aee those thinga which are
without ua, and not turn our eyes inward, and see what workmanship of God
there is in our souls, and what conformity there is between us and our Cre
ator, between us and our Redeemer ? Shall we put such an affront upon
ourselvea, as to banish the noblest part of our aoula from its proper opera
tion ? A frequent examination of ouraelvea would ballast our life, keep faith
and repentance fresh and vigorous. . Let us take heed of a spiritual laziness,
and saying, ' There is a lion in the way ;' let us remember it ia necessary, and
though it be difficult, it is not so in itself, but by reason of our averseness to
it. The difficulty may be cured by diligence ; the necessity of it, and the
advantages of it, should hoth inflame our desires to it, and increase our pains
in it. Certainly there can be no more dreadful sign of no grace at all than
a neglect of trial whether we have grace or no. If we examine not ourselves,
prove not ourselves whether we be in the faith, we are reprobates, i. e.
unsound, insincere, not hi a state of true Christianity.
* DrManton.

A DISCOURSE OF THE KNOWLEDGE OF
CHRIST CRUCIFIED.

For I determined not to know any thing among you, save Jesus Christ, and
him crucified. — 1 Cob. II. 2.
The church of Corinth, to whioh the apostle directs thia epistle, was a church
as flourishing in gifts aa any, yet as much crumbled into divisions as emi
nent in knowledge. A year and six months the apostle had been conversant
among them, planting and watering with expectation of a plentiful harvest ;
but no sooner had he turned hia back, but the devil atepa in and aows his
tares. It was a church stiU, but divided ; it had . the evangelical doctrine,
but too much choked with schismatical weeda.
1. Observe, The best churches are like the moon, not without thefr spots.
The purest times had their imperfections ; a pure state is not allowed to this,
but reserved for another world.
2. Church antiquity ia a very unaafe rale. Other churches, at some dis
tance from the apostles, were as subject to error as this. Pride and ambi
tion were less like to keep out of them than out of Christ's fainily. Had
the history of this church's practicea and teneta, without thia corrective
epistle of the apostle, been transmitted to after agea, they would have been
uaed as a pattern ; not the church, but Scripture authority is to be followed.
Fathers must not be preferred before apostles ; church practicea are no pat-
terna, but as they are parallel to the grand and unerring rale.
The apostle, laying to heart the rents, draws up the whole doctrine he had
before preached unto them into a short epitome, but firat declares the manner
of his first carriage among them, ver. 1. He came not to them ' with ex
cellency of speech, or of wisdom, declaring unto them the testimony of God.'
To come with man's wisdom,
1. Would detract from the strength and excellency of the word, which, as
the sun, shines best with its own beams. The Spirit's eloquence is most
piercing and demonstrative, and quickly convinceth a man by its own evi
dence. Carnal wisdom charms the ear, but this strikes the heart.
2. It detracts from the glory of God, who is more honoured by the sim
plicity of the gospel than luxuriances of wit. It was his honour, by the
doctrine of a crucified Saviour, to nonplus the wisdom of the world ; and the
glory of his wisdom, as weU as strength, to confound, by impotent and weak

1 GOE. II. 2.] THE KNOWLEDGE OP CHEIST CEUCIFIED. 495
men, the power of Satan, whioh so long had posaeased the hearts of the
Corinthians. 3. It would be an argument of hypocrisy to use any other arguments than
divine. Men in thia would but seek themaelves, not God's glory. It would
be pride to think that their fancies could be more prevalent than evangelical
reason ; and therefore the apostle would do nothing but endeavour to set
out Christ in his own colours, as he hung upon the cross, that their souls
might be captivated to the obedience of a crucified Lord.
I determined, Oi yoig 'ix^im. I judged it most convenient for me, most
profitable for you. It was a resolution taken up dehberately. It was not
for want of the knowledge of thoae principles which are cried up in the world
for true wiadom. I understand them aa well as others ; but what things I
counted gain before, I now count loss, for the excellency of the knowledge of
Christ, and think it not worth the while and pains to make much inqufry
about them.
To know nothing, to believe nothing, to approve of nothing, to make known
nothing. (1.) Not your traditions, which have for themselves the plea of a venerable
antiquity, and have been handed to you from your ancestors. What I chiefly
determine to know is as ancient as the oldest of those mysteries you so much
admire, even ' the Lamb alain from the foundation of the world.'
(2.) Not your philosophical wisdom, so much admfred by you and the rest
of the world. I come not to teach you a doctrine from Athena, but from
Jerusalem, and not ao much from Jeruaalem, as from heaven. I come to
declare him in whom are hid all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge.
(3.) Not your poets, wherein the chief mysteries of your religion are
couched. I come to teach him to you which your sybils and their prophetic
writings pointed at long ago.
(4.) Not your mysterious oracles, which had so long deluded the world ;
but I come to declare him by whose death they were silenced.
But Jesus Christ, and him crucified. Christ in the deity and glory of his
person ; but also aa crucified, in the ignominy of his paasion, and the ad
vantages of his office.
This ia the sum of the gospel, and contains all the richea of it. Paul was
so much taken with Christ, that nothing sweeter than Jesus could drop from
his lipa and pen. It is observed, that he hath the word Jesus five hundred
times in hia epistles.
Others understand it thus : I will know nothing but Jesus Christ, though
he were crucified ; I will boaat of him whom others despise.
Among you. You Corinthians, though learned, though rich, I would not
know anything else among you than Christ, who is the wisdom of God and
the treasures of God.
Observe, 1. All human wisdom must be denied when it comes in competition vrith
the doctrine of Christ.
2. Christ and his death is the choicest subject for the wisest ear.
3. Aa all Christ, ao especially his death ia the object of faith.
4. Aa all of Christ, ao more especially his death, in all the mysteries of it,
ought to be the main subject of a Christian's study and knowledge.
Doct. For the last, as all of Christ, so more especially his death, in all
the mysteries of it, ought to be the principal subject of a Christian's study
and knowledge. This is the honour of the gospel, and therefore the preach
ing of the gospel is called the ' preaching of the cross,' 1 Cor. i. 18. Which
should be considered by us,

496 chabnock's wobks. [1 Cob. H. 2.
I. In the first spring.
II. In the person suffering.
III. In the fruits of it.
I. In the firat apring. His death was ordered by God.
Peter, as the president of the apostles, delivers it as the sense of the whole
college of apostles then present : Acts ii. 23, ' He waa delivered by the de
terminate counsel and foreknowledge of God.' It was decreed and enacted
in heaven, resolved before time, though done in the fulnesa of time. There
fore Christ is called ' the Lamb slain from before the foundation ofthe world,'
determinately, in the counael and decree of God ; promissoiily, in the promiae
and word of God passed to Adam after the fall ; typically, in sacrifices which
were settled immediately upon that promise of redemption ; efficaciously, in
regard of the merit of it, apphed by God to believers before, the actual suffer
ing. He was made ain, not by ua, not only by himself, and hia own wUl,
but by God'a ordination : 2 Cor. v. 21, ' He hath made him to be sin for
us,' by a divine statute, i. e. he was ordained to be put into the state and
condition of a sinner in our atead ; not into the practical and experimental
state of sin, but the penal state of a sinner; to be a sacrifice for it, not to be
polluted with it. Indeed, had not God appointed it, it had not been meri
torious ; for the merit was not absolute for us, but pactional and conditional.
It was capable of meriting, because of the worth and dignity of the person ;
but not actually meritorious for us, but upon the covenant transacted between
the Father and the Son, that it should be performed by him for us, and
accepted by the Father for us, and applied by the Spirit to ua.
And aa it was appointed by God, it was,
1. An act of his sovereignty. Suppose God might have pardoned sin, and
recovered man by his own absolute prerogative, had not his word been passed
that, in case of man's transgression, he should die the death. As a word
created the earth, and cast it into such a beautiful frame and order, so by
one word he might have reatored man, and aet him upon his former stock,
and have for ever kept him from faUing again, as he did the standing angels
from ever sinning. Yet God pitcheth upon this way, and is pleased with no
other contrivance but this, and in a way of sovereignty he cuUs out his Son
to be a sacrifice ; and the Son, putting himself into the state of a surety and
Redeemer, is said to have a command given him on the part of God as a
sovereign : John xiv. 81, 'As the Father hath given me commandment, even
so I do ;' and received by him as a subject, John x. 18. And as God owns
him as his servant, Isa. xhi. 1, so he ' took upon him the form of a servant,'
Philip, ii. 6, i. e. the badge and livery of a servant ; and the whole business
he came upon, from his first breath to his last gasp, is called the vrill of God ;
and at the upshot he pleads his own obedience, in ' finishing the work given
him to do,' as the ground of his expectations, and the glory promised him,
John xvii. 2.
2. An act of the choicest love. God, at the creation, beheld man, a
goodly frame of his own rearing, adorned with his own image, beautified
with his graces, embelhshed vrith hohness and righteouaneaa, and furnished
with a power to stand ; and afterwarda beheld him ungratefully rebeUing
againat his sovereign, invading his rights, and contemning his goodness,
forfeiting his own pririleges, courting his ruin, and sinking into misery. So
blinded is his mind, as not to be able to find out a way for his own recovery ;
so perverse is his will, that instead of craving pardon of his judge, he files
from him, and when his flight would not advantage him, he stands upon his
own defence, and extenuates his crime ; thus adding one provocation to
another, as if he had an ambition to harden the heart of God against him,

1 Coe. II. 2.] the knowledge of cheist ceucipied. 497
and render himself irrecoverably miserable. God so overlooks these, as iu
immense love and grace to aettle a way for man's recovery, without giving
any dissatisfaction to his juatice, so strongly engaged for the punishment of
the offence. And rather than this notorious rebel and prodigious apostate
should perish according to his merit, he would transfer the punishment
(which he could not remit without a violation of his truth, and an injury to
his righteousnesa) upon a person equal to himself, moat beloved by him, his
delight from eternity, and infinitely dearer to him than anything in heaven
or earth. Herein was the emphasis of divine love to ua, that ' he sent hia
Son to be the propitiation for our sin,' 1 John iv. 10. It waa love that he
would restore man after the fall ; there was no more neceasity of doing this,
than of creating the world. As it added nothing to the happiness of God,
BO the want of it had detracted nothing from it. There was no more abso
lute necessity of setting up man again after his breaking, than of a new
repair of the world after the destructive deluge. But that he might wind up
his love to the highest pitch, he would not only restore man, but rather than
let him lie in his deserved misery, would punish his own bowels to secure
man from it. It was purely his grace which was the cause that his Son
'tasted death for every man,' Heb. ii. 9.
3. An act of justice. As his love to us proposed it, and Christ,. out of his
affection to the honour of the Father and our welfare, accepted it, and was
willing to undertake for us, and interpose between us and divine wrath, to
stand in our stead, and bear our sins, so it was then an act of justice to inflict ;
for God being the governor of the world, the great lawgiver righteously
exacting obedience from his rational creature, upon the transgression of his
lawr becomes a judge, and his rectoral justice demands the punishment due
for the transgression to be inflicted upon the offender. To preserve the
rights of justice, and to give a contenting answer to the cry of the bowels of
mercy, to wipe off, as I may say, the teara of one, and smooth the frowns of
the other, God lays our iniquity upon Christ, Isa. liii. 6. Christ takes the
punishment upon himself, to bear our sins in his own body on the tree, and
becomes responsible for our transgressions. And though he never sinned,
nor stood indebted to God in his own person, yet becoming our surety, and
being made under the law, putting himself in subjection to the law, and
standing in our stead, he put himself also under the obligations of it to
punishment. And thus the weight of the whole punishment due to man was
laid upon Christ by God as a juat judge. That which he could not have
from the debtora he might have from the aurety, who had put himself under
that obligation of payment, and so was bound to undergo all those curses
the law might have inflicted upon us ; and pursuant to this obhgation, God
imputed our iniquities to him, and punished them in him.
II. Consider the person suffering.
1. In regard of his dignity. The Son of God became man ; the Lord of
glory emptied himself It was the Lord of angels that took upon him the
nature of a servant ; the Lord of life shed his blood. It was the Son of God
that stooped down infinitely below himself into our nature, to be a sacrifice
for our redemption ; he that was greater than heaven became meaner than a
worm. 2. The wUlingneaa of his su^'ering. He being equal with the Father,
could not be commanded to undertake this ; he willingly consented, and
wilhngly accomphshed it. He was not driven, as the legal sacrifices were,
to the altar. His enemiea were not so desirous to make him a sufferer, as
himself was ' straitened ' tiU he was a sufferer, Luke xii. 50. The cup was
VOL. IV. I 1

498 chabnock's woeks. [1 Cob. II. 2. '
as willingly drunk by him as it was tempered by God : and his enemies did
not so maliciously ' put him to shame,' as he joyfully endured it, Heb. xii. 2.
The desire that the cup might pass from him was the struggles of his human
nature ; not an unvrillingness in his person, or a repenting of his undertaking
thia office. It was a natural motion, evidencing the truth of hia humanity,
and the greatness of what he was to suffer.
3. The greatness of his auffering. His death had all the ingredients of
bittemess in it. It was a grievous punishment, because the holiness of God
would not have been so manifeated in a light one.
(1.) Ignominious. It was a death for slaves and malefactors : for slaves,
whose condition rendered them most despicable ; and for malefactors, whose
actions had rendered them moat abominable. The Lord of heaven endured
the punishment of a slave, and was numbered among transgressors. It is
called shame, Heb. xii. 2. Each suffering was sharpened with shame ; he
was buffeted, spit upon, wounded in his good name, accounted an impostor ;
the most odious terms of blasphemer, Beelzebub's agent, &c., were put upon
the Son of God.
(2.) Cruel and sharp ; lingering, not sudden ; from his scourging by Pilate
to his death was six hours, all that while in much torture ; he suffered from
heaven, earth, heU, in his body, in his soul.
(3.) Accursed. As under God'a bleaaing all blessings are included, ao imder
the notion of a curse all punishments are contained : Gal. iii. 13, he was
' made a curse for us.' There must be something more dreadful than a bare
outward pain, or bodily punishment ; Christ wanted not courage to support
that, as well as the most valiant martyr ; he bore the beginnings of it till he
saw a black cloud between hia Father and himself. Thia made him cry out,
' My God, my God,' &c. The agonies of Christ were more than the suffer
ings of all the martyrs, and all men in the world, since God laid upon him
the sins of the whole world.
III. Consider the fruits of this death, whioh will render it worth our study.
1. The appeasing the wrath of God for us. God was willing to be ap
peased (hence the sending of Christ is everywhere in Scripture ascribed to
the love and grace of God), but his justice was not actuaUy appeased tiU the
death of Christ. As a merciful God, he pitied us ; but as a holy God, he
could not but hate our transgression ; as a God of truth, he could not but fulfil
his own threatening ; as a God of justice, he must avenge himself for the
offence against him. He gave Christ aa a God of mercy, and required satia
faction aa a God of justice. He ' aet him forth as a propitiation, that he might
be just,' Rom. ui. 25, 26. His mercy rendered him placable, but his
righteousness hindered the actual placation. He had a kindness for man, but
^ could not have a kindneaa for his sin ; he had bowela for hia creature to free
him, but no bowels for his transgression to let that go unpunished. That
justice whereby he can no more absolve the guilty than condemn the innocent,
waa an obstacle to the full issues of his mercy. But when an offering for sin
was made by an infinite person, and our near kinsman, who had a right of
redemption, there was no plea in justice against it, since the sacrifice was
complete ; no plea in divine veracity, since the penalty was suffered ; no plea
in divine holiness, since that waa infinitely manifested ; no bar to mercy to
come smiling upon the world. The wrath, of God waa appeaaed upon the
death of the Redeemer, and thia reconciliation ia actually applied upon the
acceptance of the believer. If God had not been placable, he had never
accepted a substitute ; and if he had not been appeased, he had never raised
this substitute after his passion, nor ever held out his hand of grace to invite
us to be reconcUed to him. There is nothing now remains to be done bm,

1 CoE. II. 2.] THE knowledge OP CHEIST CEUCIPIED. 499
our conaenting to those terms upon whioh he offers ua the actual enjoyment
of iL Thia crucified Redeemer only was able to effect this work. He was
an infinite person, consisting of a divine and human nature ; the union of the
one gave value to the suffering of the other. The word of God was passed
in his threatening ; hia juatice would demand ita right of his veracity ; a
sacrifice there must be to repair the honour of God by bearing the penalty of
tbe law, which could not be done by the strength and holiness of any crea
ture. All the created force in the earth, and the strongest force of the angelical
nature, were too feeble for so great a task. Justice must have satisfaction ;
the sinner could not give it without suffering eternal punishment. He then
puts himself, into our place to free us from the arrest of justice, and bear
those strokes which, by virtue of the law, wrath had prepared for us. The
dignity of his person puts a value upon his punishment, and renders it
acceptable for us, it being a death superior in virtue to the death of worlda ;
it waa a death which justice required, and at the aight of it justice waa ao
calmed, that the sharp revenging sword drops out of its hand. God hath
smelt in it so sweet a savour that hath fully pleased him. He can now
pardon the sins of believers with the glory of his righteousnesa, as well aa of
his grace. He can legally justify a repenting sinner. God hath been served
in the passion of the Redeemer, his justice and holinesa were glorified and
the law accomplished, the honour of God is salved, and the author of the
law righted, the justice of God sweetened. By this propitiation for sin, God
is rendered propitious to guilty man, and stretcheth out hia arms of love,
instead of brandishing his sword of vengeance. The ancient believers lived
in the expectation of this, but they beheld not the consummation of it : they
thfrated for it, but were not satisfied vrith it till the fulness of time. It
solely depended upon the passion of Christ ; it is by the cross that God is
reconciled and all enmity slain, Eph. ii. 14. He was then wounded for our
iniquities, and being cast into tbe furnace of divine wrath, quenched the
flames ; as Jonah, the type, being oast into the raging aea, quelled the storm.
He bore our sins by bearing the wrath due to them, and satisfied justice by
suffering its atrokea. It could not stand with that justice to puniah him, if
he were not placed in our stead to be the mark and butt of that justice for
ua and our aina. Doth not then a crucified Christ deserve to be known and
studied by every one of us, who hath done that upon the croaa which the
holy law, aacrifices divinely instituted, the blessed angels, the purity and
strength of universal nature, had never been able to effect ? He hath expiated
our sins, and by his blood hath secured us from the sword of divine ven
geance, if we refuse not the atonement he hath ma,de.
2. Silencing the law. Christ crucified, by satisfying the justice of God,
brake the thunders of the law, and dissolved the frame of all its anathemas :•
' Being made a curse for us, he hath redeeihed us from the curse of the law,'
Gal. iii. 18, i. e. from the sentence of the lawgiver, denounced in his law
against the transgressors of it ; so that ' now there is no condemnation to
them that are in Christ Jesus,' Rom. viii. 1, because they are ' dead to the
law by the body of Christ,' Rom. vii. 4. By the body of Christ as slain
and raised again : for this ' handwriting of ordinances, which was contrary
to us, is taken out of the way by God, being naUed to his cross,' Col. ii. 14.
He hath abohshed the obligation of the moral law, aa to any condemnfrig
power, it being the custom to cancel bonds anciently by piercing the writing
with a nail. The ceremonial law waa aboliahed in every regard, since the
substance of it was come, aud that which it tended to was accomphshed ;
and so one* understands ver. IS, ' Having spoiled principahties and
* Pearson on the Creed, p. 424.

500 chabnock's woeks. [1 Cob. II. 2.
powers, he made a show of them openly,' of the ceremonies of the law,
called principalities and powers in regard of the divine authority whereby
they were instituted. These he spoiled ; the word d'jrixduddfi'ivog signifiea
unclothing, or unstripping ; he unveiled them, and shewed them to be misty
figurea that were accomphshed in his own person. The flower falls when
the fruit comea to appear ; grace and truth came by Jesus Christ, grace to
obey the precepts, and truth to take away the types. But it is also ineant
of the condemning power of the moral law, which was nulled by the death
of Christ, who, upon his cross sealing another covenant, repealed the former.
The setthng a new covenant implies the dissolution of the old. That was
nailed to his crosa which was contrary to us, a law that was a charge against
us, and by virtue whereof we were sued ; and this was the law as sehtencing
us to death, which was pierced and torn by those nails, that did discover
that debt and denounce the sentence, which cannot be meant so properly of
the ceremonial as the moral law. The ceremonial law of sacrifices waa the
gospel in shadows, and appointed for the relief of men, and as a ground
whereon to exercise their faith till the appearance of tbe substance, and
therefore cannot be said to be contrary to us, but an amicable discovery,
that we are to have that relief in another which we wanted in ourselves ; and
that we were to be freed from the sentence of death by some grand sacrifice
repreaented by those sacrifices of animals. Besides, the apostle writes this
as a cordial, issuing out of the blood of Christ to the Gentile Colossians,
who never were under the obligations of the ceremonial law, that being ap
propriated to the Jews. The apostle brings it to back his assertion, that
their trespasses were forgiven. This argument had been of no use 'to the
Gentiles, who sinned not against the ceremonial law, but the moral law ;
and if one only had been cancelled, and not the other, the Jews themselves,
whose offences were most against the moral law, had had little or no com
fort in having the fewest of their sins forgiven. Onr Saviour died by the
power and force of the moral law : that brought him to the cross for the
fulfilling it in its penalty, aa well as he had done in his life by his obedi
ence ; and he receiving the full execution of its sentence upon himself on
the crosa, aa a aubstitute in our place, nulled that sentence as to any force
upon those that believe in bim. The plea against it is, that it hath already
been executed, though not upon our persons, yet upon our surety ; so that,
being nailed to his cross, the virtue of his cross must cease before the kUliiig
power of the law can revive. This crucified Christ, who disarmed the law of
its thunders, defaced the obligation of it as a covenant, and, as it were,
ground the stones upon which it waa writ to powder, is worth our exact
knowledge and studious inquiry.
, 3. Upon this must follow the removal of guilt. If God, the judge of the
world, be appeased and satisfied; and the law, upon which our accusation is
grounded, and which is the testimony of our debt, be cancelled, the removal
of onr guilt must necessarily follow. And this forgivenesa of ain is the
chief and principal part of our redemption, and ascribed to his blood as the
procuring cause ; Eph. i. 7, ' In whom we have redemption through his
blood, even the forgiveness of sin.' He bearing our sins in his own body on
the tree, there necessarily follows a discharge of every believer from them.
The payment made by the surety is a discharge of the principal debtor from
the pursuit of the creditor. As he took away the curse from us by being
made a curse, so he took away sin from us by being made sin for us. The
taking away the sins of the world was the great end of his coming. There
had been no need of his assuming our nature, and exposing himaelf to such
miseries for our relief, had we been only in a sim-ple misery, for then we might

1 Coe. II. 2.] the knowledge of chbist ceucified. 501
have been rescued by bis strength ; but being in a sinful misery, we could not
be relieved but by his sacrifice to remove our guilt, as well as by his strength
to draw us out of our gulf. Our sin was a bar upon the treasures of dirine
blessings ; this must he removed before those could be opened for ua, and
could not righteously be removed by bare power, but by a full payment and
satisfaction of the debt. It is a violent oppression to free a creditor from
the hands of a debtor by force ; it ia righteous only when it is by legal pay
ment. WeU, then, Christ was ' made sin for us,' 2 Cor. v. 21, and that in
his death upon the cross ; to what end ? that sin might remain in its guilt
upon ua ? No ; for him to be made sin, and that by God, without respect
to the taking away of sin, had been inconsistent with the wisdom and right
eousness of God. The justice of God would not permit him to take our debt
of another, and yet to charge it upon ourselves. He was therefore ' made sin
for us,' that we might ' become the righteousness of God in (or by) him.'
He was made sin, that we might be counted without sin, by the imputation
of the righteousness of the mediator to us, as if it were our own ; that as he
represented our persons, and bore our penalty, we might likewise receive the
advantages of his righteousness for the acquittal of our debts, the sin of our
nature, and the sin of our persons, the removal of the guilt contracted by
Adam, and imputed to us, and the guilt contracted by ouraelvea ; for it ia
'of many offences unto justification,' Rom. v. 16. He was the true person,
figured hy the scape-goat, that took away our sins and carried them into a
land of forgetfulness, where none dwells to take notice of them, and censure
us to death for the crimes. Is not, then, this crucified Christ worth the
knowing, who took such heavy burdens upon his own shoulders, that they
-might not oppress ours, and suffered as a victim in the place of our guilty
persons, to ' obtain an eternal redemption for us'? Heb. ix. 14. He that
gives so great a ransom for us as that of his life and precious blood, rather
than we ahould remain in our chains, deserves the choicest place in our
understanding as well as affections. Were it a bare deliverance, it would
challenge this ; but he is said not only to deliver us, which speaks power,
but to redeem us, which speaks price, and a buying what was passed into
the possession of another ; a payment of that which we were never able
to pay. 4. Another fruit is the conquest of Satan. The empire the deril exer
cised over man did not arise from any dignity in his person, or any right he
had to him in himself, but it waa first founded on sin, and granted to him
by the justice of God, and was not the power of a prince, but of an execu
tioner. ¦ Had not sin first opened the door, his venom could not have infected
ua, nor his power have hurt us. He could never have been our accuser
without aome matter of charge from us ; nor ever have been our executioner;
had we not fallen under the hands of divine justice. His power is erected
upon our crimes, whereby he becomes the minister of divine vengeance.
But a crucified Christ hath bruised the head of this old aerpent, and wounded
the prince of this world ; he hath displaced him from his power, snatched
from him the ground of his indictments, by cancelling the law upon which
hia accusations are founded ; and despoiled him of his office by aatiafying
divine justice, whioh conferred an authority upon him of executing dirine
vengeance : Rev. xii. 10, ' The accuser of the brethren is cast out,' and
' destroyed him that had the power of death,' and that through hia own
death, Heb. ii. 14, 15. That the devil had not a total power over Adam
after the fall, proceeded from the intervention of thia surety, and the absolute
credit of his future victory over him ; yet that promise, that the serpent's
head should be bruised, did not, through the weakness of thefr faith, and the.

502 chabnock's woeks. [1 Cob. II. 2.
long delay of performance, preserve them from the fear of death ; notwith
standing, that they were all their lifetime subject to bondage ; for aince the
devil's empire was reared upon the ruins of men by sin, he could continually
object to them that their ains were not expiated, that death remained aa a
punishment of ain ; but the crosa of Christ hath disarmed bim of this
weapon ; his grand plea whereby he kept men in servUe fear is completely
answered. In bruising our Saviour's heel by the death on the cross, he felt
a fatal blow on his head; his conqueror got above him out of his reach, with
out any hope left in him to touch his heel again. The devil's right waa
legally taken from him by Christ'a death on the croaa ; the foundation of hia
authority, viz., sin, waa taken away. He was ' destroyed,' that is the
apoatle'a expreaaion, not in his peraon, but in hia authority ; he was irre
coverably expelled from his dominion, which he had by his falae oracles
usurped over the world, John xii. 31 ; and it is by thia crucified Chriat that
we are more than conquerora over him. And should we not knoyv this
crucified Christ, who hath weakened the venom of the serpent, broke the
force ofthe tempter, vanquished him on the croas by the merit .ofhis blood,
and conquers him in us by the efficacy of his Spirit ?
5. Sanctification is another fruit of the cross of Christ. To be delivered
from the guilt of sin, that bound us over to punishment, had been a great
favour ; but it would not have been a perfect favour without being delivered
from the venom of sin that had infected our nature. Though God willed
man good by a love of good will, yet he could not delight in him with a love
of complacency. If the contagion and filth of sin had deformed and sullied
our souls as much as before, if our guilt were only removed, we had been
freed from punishment, but vrithout restoring the divine image we had not
been fit for any converse with God. It was necesaary that our aouls should
be washed, and our faculties put into a state to serve, in some measure, the
glory of God and the end of our creation. God would have seemed to deny
his own holiness, if he had regarded only the reverence of his justice, by
appointing a sacrifice for atonement, and not consulted the honour of the
other by renewing his image in the nature of man. But this is purchased
by the death of Christ : ' He came by water and blood,' 1 John v. 6 ; by
blood to expiate our sins, and by water to purify our souls, answerable to
the Jewish state wherein it was typified, where there were sacrifices for
guilt, and washings for filth. These two things come to us by the death
of Christ, the remitting our crime, and the removing of our spot. He gave
himself that he might save us, Eph. u. 25, Titus u. 14 ; when he came to
purchase the|blessinga we had forfeited, he would not omit this, which was
one of the chief. By him the conscience is purged from dead works, from
sin which brought death, and being worse than a pollution by a dead body,
hindered us from access to God, aa that did from an entrance into the
temple. He hath broke our chains, as well as blotted out our crime ; healed
our naturea, as well as procured our pardon ; purchaaed our regeneration,
aa well as remission. It is by his cross that ' the old man,' which had in
corporated himself with our souls, ' is crucified,' Rom. vi. 6. By this he
gained the power of sending a saving Spirit, which had not entered into
our souls had not Christ's blood flowed out of his veins. The effusion of
this blood was the cause of the effusion of the Spirit ; it waa shed upon us
through Christ alone. He hath by suffering for ain on the cross rendered it
a detestable thing, and shewed how dreadful that is, that could not receive
its fatal wound without a wound first in the heart of the Son of God. Thig
is,/the most powerful motive to quicken us to a hatred of sin, and a love of
hohness, and his life the moat Ulustrious pattern. But all this had been of

1 Coe. II. 2.] the knowledge of chbist ceucified. 503
little efficacy to us, h^id not the water of the Spirit flowed out from the rock
when it was struck, to cleanae the filthiness of our souls. This is given
upon the account of his death to believers, to purify their hearta from the
mud of the world, and to form them to a new life for the honour of God ;
and it is not denied to those that will ask, and seek, and knock, Luke xi. 13.
Had Christ only purchased remiasion without sanctification, it had not been
for the honour of God's holiness, nor would our condition have been ele
vated, heaven had been no place for defilements or slaves. It was necesaary
the filth of sin ahould be removed, the dominion of sin be aboliahed, that we
might as holy persons approach to God, and aa free men converse with God.
Is not a crucified Christ, then, worth the knowing, that hath not only de
stroyed Satan our enemy without us, but can deatroy ain our enemy within
us ? Aa he hath snatched us from punishment by expiating our sins, so he
oan bring us to communion with God by razing evil habits out of our
hearts ; without this latter, we are not capable of enjoying a complete benefit
by the former.
6. Opening heaven for us. What is this life but a waUowing in a sink,
a converae in the dregs of creation, in an earth polluted by the sin of man,
wherein we every dayj^behold freah affronts of God, and find motions in us
dishonourable to ourselves ? But Christ by his death hath provided a better
place than this, yea, a place more glorious than Adam'a paradiae, which was
designed for our habitation by the firat creation ; a place not only built by
the word of God, but cemented and prepared by the blood of Christ. By
the law against sin we were to have our bodies reduced to dust, and our
souls lie under the sentence of the wrath of God. But our crucified Sariour
hath purchased the redemption of our body, to be evidenced by a resurrec
tion, Rom. viii. 23, and a standing security of our souls in a place of bliss,
to whioh believers shall have a real ascent, and in which they shall have a
local residence, which is called the purchased possesaion. Aa Adam brought
in the empfre of death, so Christ hath brought in the empire of life : Rom.
V. 17, ' Shall reign in life by one Jesus Christ.' He hath not purchased for
ua a paradisaical life, or restored ua to the mutable atate wherein Adam was
created; he hath not linked ua for ever to the earth, and the use of the
creatures for our support; he hath purchased for us an eternal life, and
prepared for us eternal mansions, not only to have the company of men, or
the society of the blessed angels, but to be blessed with the vision of God,
to reside in the aame place where his glorified person is adored by the happy
spirits, to ' live with him,' Rom. vi. 8, a life wherein our underatandinga
shall be freed from mists, and our wiUs from spots, and our affectiona from
diaorder. We lost a paradise by sin, and have gained a heaven by the
croas. And should not this crucified Christ be studied, who hath settled
the regions above for our reception, and procured an entrance into that place
which justice, by reason of our sin, had elae uaade for ever inaccessible to us ?
I might mention more, as the establishment of the covenant, access to
God, perseverance, and the conquest of the world.
Use 1. Let na be thankful to God for a crucified Redeemer.
There is nothing in heaven or earth such an amazing wonder as thia,
nothing can vie with it for excellence. All love and thankfulness is due to
God, who hath given us hia Son, not only to live, but to die for ua a death
so shameful, a death so accursed, a death ao aharp, that we might be re
possessed of the happiness we had lost. All love and thankfulness is due to
Christ, who did not only pay a smaU aum for us as our surety, but bowed
his soul to death to raise us to life, was numbered among transgressors, that
we might have a room among the blessed. Our crimes merited our suffer.

504 chabnock's woeks. [1 Coe. II. 2.
ings, but his own bowels made him a sufferer for us ; for us he sweat those
drops of blood, for ua he trod the wine-press alone, for us he assuaged the
rigour of divine justice, for us, who were not only miserable but offending
creatures, and overwhelmed with more sins to be hated than with misery to
be pitied. He was crucified for us (by his love) who deserved to die by his
power, and laid the highest obligation upon us who had laid the highest dis-
obligements upon him. Thia death is the ground of all our good, whatever
we have ia a fruit that grew upon the cross. Had he not suffered, we had
been rejected for ever from the throne of God, salvation had never appeared
but by those groana and agoniea. By this alone was God pleased, and our
souls for ever pleasured ; without it he had been for ever displeased with us,
we had been odious and abominable in his sight, and could never have seen
his face. Nothing is such an evidence of his love aa his cross ; the miracles
he wrought, and the cures he performed in the time of his life, were nothing
to the kindness of hia death, wherein he waa vriUing to be accounted worse
than a murderer in his punishment, that he might thereby effect our deliver
ance. ¦ If he had given us the richea of this world and a greater, had he
given us the honour of angels, and made us barons of heaven, without ex
posing himself to the cross to accomplish it, it had been a testimony of his
affection, but destitute of so endearing an emphasis. The manner of pro
curing is more than a bare kindneaa in bestowing it ; he testified his resolu
tion not only to give us glory, but to give it us whatsoever it should cost
him, and would stick at nothing rather than we ahould want it. The angels
in heaven, in their glistering lustre, are the monuments of his liberality, but
not of so supreme an affection as is engraven on the body of his crosa.
2. Let us delight in the knowledge of Christ crucified, and be often in the
thoughta and study of him. Study Christ, not only as living, but dying ;
not as breathing in our air, but suffering in our stead ; know him as a vic
tim, which is the way to know him as a conqueror, Christ as crucified is
the great object of faith. All the passages of his life, from his nativity to
his death, are paased over in the creed without reciting, because, though
they are thinga to be believed, yet the belief of them is not sufficient without
the belief of the cross : in that alone was our redemption wrought. Had he
only lived, he had not been a Saviour. If our faith stop in his hfe, and do
not fasten upon his blood, it will not be a justifying faith. His miracles,
which prepared the world for his doctrine, his holiness, which fitted himself
for his suffering, had been insufficient for us without the addition of the
cross ; without this, we had been under the demerit of our crimes, the venom
of our natures, the slavery of our sins, and the tyranny of the devil ; with
out thia, we should for ever have had God for our enemy, and Satan for our
executioner ; without this, we had lain groaning under the punishment of
our tranagressions, and despaired of any smile from heaven. It was this
death which as a sacrifice appeased God, and as a price redeemed us ; no
thing is so strong to encourage us, nothing so powerful to purify us ; how
can we be without thinking of it ! The world we live in had fallen upon
our heada, had it not been upheld by the piUar of the cross, had not Christ
stepped in and promised a satisfaction for the sin of man. By this aU
things consist ; not a blessing we enjoy but may put us in mind of it ; they
were all forfeited by our sins, but merited by bis precious blood. If we
study it well, we shall be sensible how God hated sin and loved a world ;
how much he would part with to restore a fallen creature. He shewed an
irresistible love to ua, not to be overcome by a love to hia own bowels.
(1.) This will keep np life in our repentance. We cannot look upon Christ .
crucified for ua, for our guilt, and consider that we had deserved all that he

1 Cob. II. 2.] the knowledge of chbist ceucified.

suffered, and that he suffered not by our entreaty, nor by any obliga,
ua, but merely from his own love, but the meditation of thia musi,
melt ua into aorro'w. Should we not bleed as often as we seriously tho^
of Christ's bleeding for us ? You cannbt aee a malefactor led to executio,
for a notorious crime, but you have some detesting thoughts of the fact, as
well as some motions of pity to the person. A strong meditation on Christ
will excite compassions for his sufferings, but a detestation of our sins and
selves as the cause of it." It ia a ' look upon Christ pierced ' that pierceth
the soul, Zech. xii. 10. Would not this blood acquaint us that the malig
nity of sin was ao great, that it could not be blotted out by the blood of the
whole creation ! Would it not astonish us that none had strength enough
to match it, but one equal with God ! Would not such an astonishment
break out into penitent reflections ! Would not the thoughts of this make
us emulate the veil of the temple, and be ashamed that it should outstrip us
in rending, while our hearts remain unbroken ! Should we not be con
founded, that a lifeless earth should shake in the time ofhis sufferings, while
our reasonable soula stand immoveable ! Could any of the Israelites, that
understood the nature and intent of sacrifices, be without aome penitent
motions, while they aaw the innocent victim slain for their sin, not for any
fault of its own ; and should we be unmelted, if we considered the cross,
the punishment of our crimes, not any of his !
(2.) It would spirit our faith, when we shall see his blood confirming an
everlasting covenant, wherein God promises to be gracious. AU the pro
mises centred in the cross, received their life from his death, and are from
thence reflected on ua. Where can faith find a vigour but in the royalties
of mercy, displayed in the satiafaction of justice ? Where can it find a life
but in the views of its proper object ? When we behold a Christ crucified,
how oan we distrust God, that hath in that, as a plain tablet, writ this lan
guage, that he will spare nothing for us, since he hath not spared the best
he had. What greater assurance can he give ? Where is there anything in
heaven or earth that can be a greater pledge of his affection ?
(3.) Thia will animate ua in our approachea to God. Not only a bare
coming, but a boldneas and confidence in coming to God, was purchased by
a cracified Christ, Heb. x. 19. God was before averse from man, and man
unwiUing to approach to God. Now God invites, and man may come ; man
calls and God answers. What can be more encouraging than to consider,
that ' by his blood he hath made us kings and priests to God,' Rev. v. 9, 10,
to offer up sacrifices with a royal apirit, since the curse which should have
fallen upon our heads haa been borne by him. We ahould think of it every
time we go to God in prayer ; it was by this death the throne of God was
opened. This will ohaae away that fear that disarms us of our vigour. It
will compose our souls to offer up delightful petitions. It is in this only
we see the face of God appeased toward us.
(4.) This will be a means' to further us in a progress in holiness. An
affection to ain, which cost the Redeemer of the world so dear, would be in
consistent with a sound knowledge and serious study of a crucified Saviour.
We should see no charms in sin, whioh may not be overcome by that rarish
ing love which bubblea up in every drop of the Redeemer's blood. Can we,
with lively thoughts of this, sin againat so much tenderness, compassion,
grace, and the other perfections of God, which sound so loud in our ears
from the cross of Jesus ? ShaU we conaider him hanging there to deliver
ua from hell, and yet retain any apirit to walk in the way which leads thereto ?
ShaU we consider him upon the crosa, unlocking the gates of heaven, and yet
turn our backs upon that, place he was so desirous to purchase for us, and

I

506 / chabnock's wobks. [1 Coe. II. 2.
give us thie possession of ? Shall we see him groaning in our place and
stead, jund dare to teU him by our unworthy carriage that we regard him not,
andyxhat he might have spared his pains ? It must be a miserable soul,
VMorse than brutish, that can walk on in ways of enmity, with a senae of a
crucified Christ in his mind. Could we then affect that sin which appears
so horrible in the doctrine of the cross ? Can we take any pleasure in that
which procured so much pain to our best friend ? Can we love that which
hath brought a curse, better than him who bore the curse for ua ? For want
of this study of Christ crucified, we walk on in sin, as if he suffered to pur
chase a license for it, rather than the destruction of it. The due considera
tion of this death would inchne our wills to new desires and resolutions. It
would stifle that luxury, ambition, worldliness, which harass our souls.
We should not dare to rush into any iniquity through the wounds of Christ;
we should not, under a sense of his dying groans, cherish that for whioh he
suffered ; we should not do the works of darkneaa under the effusions of
his blood, if we did in a serious posture set ouraelves at the feet of his
cross. (5.) This will be the foundation of all comfort. What comfort can be
wanting, when we look upon Christ crucified aa our surety, and look upon
ourselvea as crucified in him ; when we can consider -our ains as punished in
him, and ourselves accepted by virtue of his cross ? It waa not an angel
which waa crucified for us, but the Son of God ; one of an equal dignity with
the Father ; one that shed blood enough to blot out the demerit of our
crimes, were they more than could be numbered by all the angels of heaven,
if all were made known to them. He waa not crucified for a few, but for all
sorts of offences. When we ahall aee judgments in the world, what comfort
can we take without a knowledge and sense of a crucified Christ ! What a
horror it ia for a condemned man to aee the preparation of gibbeta, halters,
and executioners ! But when he shall see a propitiation made for him, the
anger of the prince atoned, the law aome other way satisfied, and his con
demnation changed into remission ; all hia former terrors vanish, and a
sweet and pleasing calm posseaaeth him. With this knowledge and sense
we should not be much terrified at the approaches of death in our laat gasps,
when we consider itself gasping under the weight of the cross. The blood
of Christ is as ai balsam dropped upon the pointa of the arrowa of death.
That, by removing the guilt of ain, pulled out the sting of death. When we
tremble under a senae of our aina, the terrora of the judge and the curses of
the law, let us look upon a crucified Christ, the remedy of all our miseries.
His cross hath procured a crown, hia paaaion hath expiated our transgression.
His death hath disarmed the law, hia blood hath washed a behever's soul.
This death is the destruction of our enemiea, the apring of our happiness,
the eternal testimony of divine love. We have good reason, as well as the
apostle, to determine with ourselvea, ' to know nothing but Jesua Christ, and
especiaUy him crucified.'

A DISCOURSE OF CHRIST OUR PASSOYER.

For Christ our passover is sacrificed for us. — 1 Coe. V. 7.
The words are a reason of the apoatle's exhortation to the Corinthiana to
cast out the inceatuous peraon, in regard of the contagion which might be
by so ill an example dispersed to dthers, aa a leaven spreads its vapours
through the whole lump : ver. 6, ' Know you not, that a little leaven leaven-
eth the whole lump ? ' And having used this similitude of leaven, he pur
sues it in allusion to the custom of the Jews before the celebration of the
pasaover, according to the command to have no leaven found in their houses
at that time, upon the penalty of being cut ofl' from the congregation of
Israel; and with respect to the true design of that ceremonial injunction,
exhorts the Corinthians to 'purge out the old leaven,' viz., that person
from their society, lust from their hearts, every member of the old Adam,
that they might be a new lump, answering their holy and heavenly calling.
The reason of this exhortation is in the words : ' For Chriat our passover
is sacrificed for us,' and by hia death hath taken away the sin of the world.'*
Aa the aacrifice of the paschal lamb represented the aacrifice of Christ, so
the manner wherein the Israelites celebrated that solemnity with unleavened
bread representa the manner wherewith we ought to celebrate the death of
the Redeemer of the world. As therefore our true passover, which is the
Lord Jesua, hath been sacrificed for us, let us daily celebrate the memory
of it in a manner worthy of so great a grace. As, therefore, the Jews
abstained from all leaven in the time of the figure, let us not only abstain
from, but purge out, all things contrary to God, because for this end Christ
was sacrificed for us. As the passover was a type of Christ, so the un-
' leavened bread was a type of Christians, and of their innocence and purity
of life.f And that 'because you are unleavened,' i.e. de jure, you ought
to be so ; for that ia aaid in Scripture aometimes to be de facto whioh ought
to be, as ' the priest's lips preserve knowledge,' i. e. ought to preserve
knowledge. J ''Exxadd^ari, purge out, ia more emphatical and pressing than
a simple purging : purge it out wholly, that nothing may be left in you,
that you may be auch as a new lump did figuratively signify.
Christ our passover. The institution of this solemn figure is particularly
set down Exod. xii. 3-5, &c. It was appointed by God as a memorial,§
* Amyraut in loo ; Estius in loc. % Pareus in loc,
t Henoch. , 2 Daille, Serm. sur 1 Cor. v. 7.

508 chabnock's woeks. [1 Cos. V. 7.
both of the Israelites' slavery in Egypt and their deliverance from it. After
they had been about two hundred years in that country, God, mindful of
his promise, sets upon their delivery ; and since all the former miracles had
proved unsuccessful for the bending Pharaoh's heart to give the captives
liberty to depart, God deaigns tbe slaying of the first-born of every Egyp
tian family, and thereby sending tbe greatest strength of the nation to
another world. Upon this occasion he orders the Israelites, by Moses, to
slay the lamb the fourteenth day of the first month (whioh answers to our
March), and sprinkle the posts of their doors with the blood, and feast upon
the flesh of it in their several famUies ; and that night the angel comes and
mortally strikes every first-born, none escaping but those who observed this
command of God, and had sprinkled their door-posts with the blood of the
slain lamb ; every house besides being made that night a house of mourn
ing. Itwas an earnest of the Israelites' deliverance, and, the Egyptians'
calamity. Obs. 1. God's greatest mercies to his church are attended with the
greatest plagues upon their enemies. The salvation of man is the destruc
tion of sin and the devil ; the passover was the salvation of Israel and ruin
of Egypt.2. God provides for the security of his people before he lays his wrathful
hand upbn their adversaries. He provided a Moses to conduct them, an
ordinance to comfort and refresh them, before he shoots his arrowa into the
Egyptians' hearts. God settles this passover as a standing ordinance in the
church, a feast throughout their generations, to be kept by an ordinance for
ever, Exod. xii. 14 ; so that it was not only a memorial of a past and tem
poral deliverance, but the type of a future and spiritual one. Aa all the
sacrificea were types of what was to be performed in the fulness of time in _
the person of the Messiah, so this was a great and signal type, and had its
truth, reality, and efficacy in the death of the Redeemer.
Christ the passover, i. e. the paschal lamb. The lamb was called the
passover ; the sign for the thing signified by it : 2 Chron. xxxv. 11, ' And
they killed the passover,' i.e. the lamb; for the passover waa properly the
angel's passing over Israel, when he was sent as an executioner of God's
wrath upon the Egyptians. So Mat. xxvi. 17, ' Where shaU we prepare for
thee to eat the passover ?' i. e. the paschal lamb.
Our passover: our paschal lamb. He is called ' God's Lamb,' John L
29. God's in regard of the author, ours in regard of the end ; God's Lamb
in regard of designation, ours in regard of acceptation.
Our passover. Not only of the Jews, but of the Gentiles. That was
restrained to the Israelitish nation, this ex-tends in the offers of it to all,
and belongs to all that are under the new administration of the covenant of
grace. For us, w£g iif^Siv. Not only for our good, but in our stead, to free us
from eternal death, to purchase for ua eternal life ; sacrifices were substi
tuted in the place of the transgressor, and received the stroke of death
which his sin had merited. The title of the paschal lamb is given here to
Christ, not only in regard of his meekness and innocence, but in regard of
his being a sacrifice, whence he is called ' the Lamb slain,' Rev. v. 12 ; the
Lamb that 'redeems us by bis blood,' 1 Pet. i. 18. Here we have,
1. A description of Christ in the type, passover.
2. The end of his death.
(1.) Finis cujus, a sacrifice.
(2,) Finis cui, our, for us.
Three doctrines may be observed from the words.

.1 CoE. V. 7.] cheist oue passovee. 509
1. Christ is our passover.
2. Christ is a sacrifice.
3. Christ is a sacrifice in our stead.
1. For the first, Christ is our passover. In allusion to this, he is so
often called a Lamb, as also in allusion to the lambs offered in tbe daily
sacrifice, but especially in relation to the paschal lamb, which did more
fuUy express both the nature of hia sufferings and the design of his office.
You do not therefore find him expresaed in the New Testament by the name
of any of those other animals which were figures of him in the Jewish
sacrifices, but only by this of a lamb, as being more significant of the in
nocence of his person, the meekness of his nature, his sufficiency for his
people, than any other.
(1.) The design of the passover was to set forth Christ. All the sacri
fices, which were appointed by God as parts of worship, were designed to
keep up the acknowledgment of the fall of man, his demerit by sin, and to
support his faith in the promised Redeemer ; for they being instituted, not
before the fall, but probably immediately after the first promise of the seed
of the woman, did all refer to that seed promiaed, whose heel was to be
bruised, aa to the foundation of their institution ; and being unable of them
selves to purge the sin of a rational creature, and the spiritual substance of
the soul, they must refer to that which was only able to do it : Heb. x. 8,
' Sacrifice and offering, and bumt-offerings, and offering for sin, thou wouli-
est not, neither hadst pleasure therein ; then said I, Lo, I come to do thy
will : ' the will of God manifested in the first draught and agreement in
heaven, and shadowed in all the sacrifices under the law. When sacrificea
of themselves were not, nor could be, grateful to God, nor the blood of an
animal give a due compensation to an offended God for the sin of man,
then said Christ, ' Lo, I come,' as the person represented by thoae picturea,
as the body aignified by those shadows. All those institutiona not being
designed for any other virtue in themselves, but aa noticea of the intent of
God, and the methods he designed for the taking away of sin by the promised
seed ; that it was to be by blood and death, that this was the agreement
between God and the seed so promiaed ; therefore they were in all those
doleful spectacles of blood and slaughter to look through that veil to the
calamities the promised seed sh'ould endure for the taking away of sin, and
have a prospect of the heinousness of sin, and the sharpness of the suffer
ings of the Messiah, in the groans and strugglings of those dying creatures.
So the design of this passover was ultimately to represent the Messiah to
them, by whose blood they were to have a spiritual deliverance from sin
and Satan, as by the blood of the lamb they had a deliverance from the
sword of the destroying angel, an(f afterwards from Pharaoh and the Egyp
tian pressures. He is therefore called the Lamb of God, as being shadowed
by the paschal lamb of the Old Testament. All things under the law were
hut shadows of things to come, Heb. x. 1. Chriat ia the real accomplish
ment of all ; he ia our mystical, spiritual, heavenly, perfect passover ;
therefore those words, which are immediately spoken of the paschal lamb,
and did immediately respect the pasaover, Exod. xii. 46, ' Neither shall
you break a bone thereof,' and Num. ix. 12, are said to be fulfiUed in
Christ the antitype, as if they had been immediately pronounced of him
when they were spoken of the paschal lamb : John xix. 36, ' For those things
were done that the scripture should be fulfiUed, A bone of him shaU not be
broken.' And, indeed, if we consider aU the circumstances in the institu
tion, they seem not worthy of the wisdom of God, nor are capable of having
any reason rendered for them, if they be not referred to gome other mystery;

510 ohaenock's woekj. [1 Cob. V. 7.
and what can that be but the Redeemer of the world represented thereby ?
Why should so much care be in the choice and separation of a lamb ? *
What virtue had the blood of a poor animal to aecure the houae and the life
of the first-born against the sword of a strong and invisible angel ? Was
the sprinkling of the blood upon the posts a necessary mark for the angel,
as though he had not understanding enough to distinguish between the
houses and children of the Israelites and Egyptians ? Could not God have
signified hia pleasure to the angel without such a mark, and given him
directions for the security of his people ? How £an we think God should
appoint so many ceremonies in it, lay such a charge upon them for the strict
observation of them, if he designed it not as a prop to their faith, a ground i
to expect a higher and spiritual deliverance by the blood of the Messiah, as
well as a trial of their obedience, a memorial of their temporal deliverance,
and a aign for the direction of the angel in the execution of his commission ?
(2.) The believers in that time regarded it as a type of the Messiah :
Heb. xi. 28, ' Through faith he,' i. e. Mosea, ' kept the passover and the
sprinkling of blood, lest he that destroyed the first-born should touch them.'
It was an illustrioua testimony of Moses his faith to rely upon the promise
and good will of God, and keep the passover, when the blood of a lamb
seemed so improbable a means of preserving tbe laraelitea from the destroy
ing angel's sword. Yet certainly MosSs his faith pierced further, and looked
through this ahell to the kernel, through this sign to the thing signified by
it. Moaea could not have ' eateemed the reproach of Chriat,' ver. 26, had
he not known Christ ; and we cannot suppose so Ulustrious a prophet, that
had such an estimation of Christ aa to value his reproaches, did terminate
hia faith upon the outward action and the bare type, but pierced further to
the promised seed, as well as Abel in his sacrifice. It is not likely that his
faith stuck only in the effusion of the blood of an animal, and did not see
the effusion of the blood of the Messiah, whose reproach he had been so
wiUing to bear. It had been too low a faith for so great a man, not to re
gard the spiritual deliverance promised to be wrought by the bruising the
heel of the seed of the woman. Who can think Mosea utterly ignorant of
the deaign of that promise ? And if not, who can think his faith ahould
terminate in the outward sign, and that the apostle should give such enco
miums to a faith of no higher an elevation than that which respected the
command of God in that present affair ? Moses his.faith had been great in
former commanda ; why should the apostle skip them, if he had not designed
to shew his faith in the Messiah figured in the passover ? The apostle doth
not speak of faith in God simply considered in that chapter, but of faith in
the mediator, or high priest, which he had discoursed of throughout that
book. How could the ancient believera eat the aame spiritual food, and
drink of the same spiritual rock, which was Christ, without faith in him, and
respecting him as the object of faith in that rock and manna, 1 Cor. x. 8,
4. Some of the Jews acknowledge that the Messiah is to come exactly on
that day wherein the passover was offered when they fled out of Egypt ;t
and to redeem Israel the fifteenth day of the month Nisan, which waa the
day wherein Christ by his death redeemed the world. They came out of
Egypt the first month, when the moon was at the full, and in the same
inonth, and the same appearance of the moon, did Christ procure our
spiritual liberty by his death.
(3.) The paschal lamb was the fittest to represent Christ. It was a sacri-
* Daille, Serm. sur 1 Cor. v. 7.
^ t Eugubin. in Exod. xii., Masius in Josh. v. 10, tells us out of the Talmud that
this was the opinion of the ancient Jews.

1 Cob. V. 7.] chbist oue passovee. 511
fice and a feast ; a sacrifice in killing it and sprinkling the blood, a feast in
their feeding upon it. It represents Chriat aa a victim satisfying God, as a
feast refreshing us ; he waa offered to God for the expiation of our sins, he
ia offered to us for apphcation to our souls. The apostle mentions one in
the text, the other in the verae following, ' therefore let us keep the feast.'
A lamb is both clothes and meat ; Christ is clothing to us by hia righteous
ness to cover our nakedness, and food to us by his body and blood to satisfy
our appetite, a sacrifice and a feast for us.
The truth of this proposition wiU appear,
[1.] In the reaemblance between the paschal lamb and the Redeemer.
[2. J In the effecta or consequents of it.
[1.] In the resemblance between the paschal lamb and the Redeemer.
First, A lamb is a meek creature. It hurts none, is hurt by all ; it hangs
not back when it is led to the slaughter, it cries not when it is atuck ; no
greater emblem of patience to be found among irrational creatures. To thia
the prophet likens our Sa-riour, when he saith, Isa. liii. 7, 'He waa brought
aa a lamb to the slaughter, and as a sheep before the shearers is dumb, so
he opened not his mouth.' How strange was his humility in entering into
such a life ! How much more stupendous in submitting to such a death, as
shameful as his life was miserable ! For the Son of God to be counted the
vilest of men, the sovereign of angels to be made lower than his creatures,
the Lord of heaven to become a worm of the earth, for a creator to be
spurned by his creatures, is an evidence of a meekness not to be paralleled.
The soldiers that spat upon him and mocked him met not vrith a reproachful
expression from him. He held his peace at their clamours, offered his back
to their scourgea, reviled them not when he lay under the greatest violence
of their rage, waa patient under his sufferings, while he was despised more
than any man by the people. His calmness was more stupendous than their
rage, and the angels could not but more unexpressibly wonder at the patience
of the sufferer than the unmercifulness of the executioners. He was more
willing to die than they were to put him to death ; he suffered not by force;
he courted the effusion of his blood when he knew that the hour which his
Father had appointed, and man needed, was approaching. Neither the in
famy of the cross, nor the sharpness of the punishment, nor the present and
foreaeen ingratitude ofhis enemies, could deter him from desiring and effect
ing man's salvation. He went to it not only as a duty, but an honour, and
was content for a while to be the sport of devila, that he might be the spring
of salvation to men. And when he was in the furnace of divine wrath, and
deserted by hia Father, he utters a sensible, but not a murmuring, expostu
lation ; he received our sins upon hia shoulders, to confer his divine benefits
npon our hearts ; he endured the contradiction of sinners against himself ;
he despised the shame, submitted to the cross ; his own worldly reputation
was of no value with him, so he might be a sacrifice for the redemption of for
lorn man ; and, in the whole scene, manifested a patience greater than their
cruelty. From this paschal lamb typifying the Redeemer, the Jewa might
have learned not to expect a Messiah wading through the worid in blood
and slaughter, sheathing his sword in the bowels of his enemies, and
flourishing with temporal rictories and prosperity ; but one meek, humble,
and lowly, suiting the temper of the lamb which represented him in the
passover. Secondly, It was to be 'a lamb vrithout blemish,' Exod. xii. 5. It was
to be entire in aU its parts, sound, without bruise, scab, or maim ; and the
reason why it was separated four days before the killing of it was, that they
might have time to understand whether it had any spot or defect in it. So

512 chabnock's woeks. [1 Cob. V. 7.
is the Lamb of God ; he was holy in the production of his nature, as well as
in the actions of bis life. Though he was of Adam's substance, he waa not
contained in Adam's seminal virtue ; he was conceived by the Holy Ghost,
therefore unblemished in his conception, unspotted in his birth. From the
first moment of his conception, he was filled with all supernatural grace ac
cording to the capacity of his humanity ; his union with the divine nature
secured him against the ainful infirmitiea of our nature, and made all super
natural perfections due to him, whereby he might be fitted for aU holy
operations. As he was that holy thing in his birth, Luke i. 35, so he was
righteous to the last moment of his life. The law of God waa within his
heart, signified by the tables of the law laid up in the ark, a type of his
human nature, whioh possessed in a sovereign degree all the habits of the
most accomplished righteousness that ever was in the world ; to which
Peter aUudes, 1 Peter i. 19, ' a lamb without blemish and spot,' a divine
idea of all virtue, who infinitely surpassed all the holiness of men or angels.
The apostle multiplies expressions to declare it, and all little enough to ex
press it : Heb. vii. 26, ' Holy, harmless, undefiled, separate from sinners.'
He waa like us in our nature, but not in our blemishes ; he had our flesh,
but without the leaat stain of imperfection ; he had the likeness of sinful
flesh, but there was not any inherency of sin in him, or adherency of it to
him in the assumption of our nature, Heb. iv. 15 ; as the serpent upon the
pole had the likeness, but not the venom of the serpent. He was not sub
jected to our sin, as he was to our natural infirmities ; he had the form of a
servant, without the impurities of our sla^very, and in all the days of his
flesh waa not found guilty of one inobservance to God or man. It was
necessary he should be so. Had he been obnoxious to sin, he had not been
able to take away the sins of the world. No impure person could have made
our peace with God, because he could not have made his own peace, nor
have procured quietness in hia own conscience ; he could not have merited
for himself, much less have wrought any righteousness for others.
Thirdly, The lamb was to be chosen and set apart three days, and killed
the fourth in the evening, Exod. xii. 6, or ' between the two evenings,' as it
is in the Hebrew. Our Saviour waa separate from men, manifested himself
in the work of his prophetical office three years and upwarda,' before he was
offered up as a sacrifice in the fourth year, after he had been solemnly
inaugurated in the exercise of his office. Thefr keeping the lamb in custody,
and tying it at the feet of their beds, that, being in view, it might mind them
of their servitude in Egypt, and deliverance from thence by the mighty hand
of God, noted the humiliation of Christ before his death, which is called his
prison, and therefore the beginning of his exaltation is called a ' taking him
from prison and from judgment,' Isa. hii. 8. As the lamb waa set apart the
tenth day, so some observe * that, in answer to the type, Christ did on the
tenth day solemnly and in triumph enter into Jerusalem, and by tbe same
gate through which lambs were led to sacrifice ; and he was crucified that
very day and time wherein the paschal lamb was to be slain, between fhe
two evenings, i. e. the dechning of the sun from noon, which was the first
evening, and the aetting of it, which was the aecond ; for it waa about the
ninth hour, or three in the afternoon, the usual time wherein they killed the
passover, that Christ was offered up as a complete sacrifice to God, Mat.
xxvii. 46-50. It was ordered by God to be killed in the evening, to signify
the sacrifice of the Messiah in the evening of the world. He was crucified
at the end of the aecond age of the world, the age of the law, and the begin
ning of the third age, that of the gospel, which is called in Scripture
* Gerhard, loc. commun.

1 COE. V. 7.] CHEIST OUE PASSOVEE. 513
' the last times,' Heb. i. 2 ; and ' the ends of the worid,' 1 Cor. x. 11 ;
which Peter alludes to when he resembles him to the paschal lamb without
blemiah, 1 Peter i. 19, 20, ' manifested in theae laat timea for you.' The death
of Chriat was in the first evening of the world. The sun ia turned ; the world
ahall not last so long after the coming of Christ aa it did before ; the state of
• the world is far declined, and the consummation of all things ia not far off,
since more than sixteen hundred years ai^ past since the first evening began.
Fourthly, The lamb was to be roasted with fire whole, Exod. xii. 4, 8, 9,
not sodden ; to put them in mind of the hardship they endured in the
brick kUns of Egypt, and aa a type of the acorching sufferings of the Re
deemer, whose ' strength was dried up like a potsherd,' and his ' tongue
cleaved to hia jaws,' Ps. xxii. 15, probably alluding to thia roasting ofthe
paschal lamb. He bore the wrath of that God who is a consuming fire, without
any water, any mitigation or comfort in his torments. It may note also the
gradual rising of the suffering of Christ. As his exaltation was not all at
one time, but by degrees, so were his sufferinga, by outward wounds, cutting
reproaches, and inward agonies. The pains of the body are unexpressible in
regard ofthe nervousness, and therefore sensibUity of thoae parts, his hands
and feet, which were pierced upon the cross. The consideration of those
millions of aina laid upon him could not but be an unexpressible grief to the
pure nature of Christ, had the?e been nothing of the wrath of God mixed
with it. But his bodily death and grief was not aU, the wrath of God dread-
fuUy flamed out against hia soul : there was the principal seat of the sufferings
of Christ, because the soul is the principal seat of that sin for which he
auffered. What should have been inflicted on us waa inflicted on him ; but
we had not only merited the death of the body, but a death joined with the
curse of God tormenting the aoul. He taated death, that death which the
devil had the power of, that death which men feared, Heb. ii. 9, 14, 15,
which ia the weight of that eternal death due to ain. How aharp must that
be which had the bitterness of a thousand deaths, for thoae milliona of sins
which Chriat bore in his body, every one of whioh had deserved an entire
death from the hand of God ! How grievous waa that death, since he that
was more courageous than all the martyrs sweat drops of blood at the approach
of the cross, and when he was upon it uttered that terrible complaint, ' My
God, my God,' &c., words which never came out of the month of any of the
martyrs in the strength of their tormenta ; ao that the sufferings of Christ
were of that weight that a mere creature would have sunk under them, not
only the holiest man but the highest angel.*
Fifthly, Not a bone of fhe paachal lamb was to be broken, Exod. xu. 46,
which, according to the opinion of some,f signified that kind of death to which
the breaking of the bones belonged, and that was crucifixion, it being the
custom to break the bones of malefactors, that their punishment might be
shortened. This was fulfilled in our Saviour, John xix. 36. Death had
not a full power over him, he was not broken to piecea by the greatness of
hia sufferings, but surmounted his enemies upon the cross, and was reserved
entire for a resurrection.
There may be other resemblances noted. As the lamb was to be a male,
which implies the perfection and strength of the sacrifice, not above- a year
old, the sufferings of Christ were in the prime of his age.
[2.] There is a resemblance in the effects or consequents of the passover.
First, The diverting the destroying angel by the sprinkhng of the blood
* Daille, Sermons sur Jean iii. Serm sur Gal. iii. p. 613.
t Pearson ou the Creed, p. 408.
VOL. IV. K k

514 chabnock's woeks. [1 Coe. V. 7.
npon the posts, to be a mark to the angel to spare the firstborn of such
houses, was the main end expressed in the institution, Exod. xii. 12, 13.
Their preservation could not he merited by the blood of an animal. It had
a higher cause, the blood of Christ, which was represented by it ; to which
purpose the observation of Chrysostom is remarkable : Aa tbe atatues of
kings, though they are inanimate things, yet are sanctuaries to preserve those
that fly to them, not because they are statues, but because they represent
the prince, so the blood of the lamb preserved the families, not because it
was blood,' but because it represented the blood of the Messiah. This blood
quenched that fire of wrath -we had merited, turns away that vengeance which
would else consume us. By virtue of this sacrifice we ' pass from death to
life,' John v. 24. When God shall judge the world, he wiU pass over those
whom he sees sprinkled with the blood of hia weU-beloved, and turn from
them the edge of that consuming sword which shall strike through the hearts
of those that are without this blood of sprinkling. It is only under the war
rant of this blood that we ^^can be safe. The Redeemer's blood shed for us
and sprinkled on us preserves our souls to eternal life. Aa the deatroying
sword did not touch the Israelites, so condemning wrath shall not strike those
that are under the protection of it ; death ahall have no power "over them.
The blood of the paschal lamb wrought a temporal deliverance, and this blood
a spiritual and eternal one. " '
Secondly, Upon this succeeded that liberty God had designed for them,
Exod. xii. 81. As it secured them from death, so it was the earnest oftheir
dehverance, and broke the chains of their slavery. The death of Christ is
the foundation of the full deliverance of his people, and the earneat of the
fruition of the' purchaaed and promised inheritance. This was the conquest
of Pharaoh, upon which soon after followed his destruction. Pharaoh's heart
was not bent till the celebration of this passover ; that which succeeded upon
it laid him more fiat than all the former plagues whereby he had smarted.
The promises concerning the Messiah, and the. sacrifices which were types of
him, terrified the devil, Pharaoh's antitype ; but only the blood of Christ
shed conquers him and pulls captives from his chains. The Israelites' slavery
ended when their sacrifices were finished ; the efficacy of this divine pass-
over delivers men from a spiritual captirity, under the yoke of sin and the
irons of Satan, inatatea them in the liberty of the children of God, whereby
they become a holy nation, a royal priesthood, a free and peculiar people.
This strikes off the shackles, works an escape from the pressures of spiritual
enemies, changeth a deplorable captivity into a glorioua liberty, and reduceth
Satan to so impotent a condition, that all his strength and all his stratagems
cannot render him master of that soul that is once freed from his chains ; as
after this passover the Egyptian strength waa so scattered that they were as
ready to force that people to their liberty as before they were desirous to detain
them their slaves, and were never able to reduce them to their former chains.
Thirdly, After thia passover they do not only enjoy their liberty, but begin
their march to Canaan, the promiaed and delightful land. They then turn
their backs upon Egypt and their faces towards Canaan , and after a pUgrimage
in the desert they enter the land flowing with milk and honey. So by the
merit of the sacrifice of Christ the true Israelite turns his face from earth to
heaven, from a world that lies in wickedness to an inheritance of the saints
in light, and travels towards Canaan, whither he shall be sure to enter after
he hath finished his pilgrimage, to feed upon the milk and honey, the glory
and happiness proper to that state. Then shall all the ends of this passover
be fulfilled and completed in the kingdom of God, Luke xxii. 16, and the soul,
remain for ever in a glorious state beyond the reach of its former tyrants, free

1 Coe. V. 7.] cheist oue passovee. 515
from all fear of slavery, for ever rejoicing in the happy accomplishment of
the promises of God. In short, as after the celebration of this passover in
Egypt, aU the promises of God to them began to take place and pass into
performance, so by the death of Christ, the true pasaover, all the promiaea
were made yea and amen in him, and began to be made good to every believer.
The use.
1. Of information. Is Christ called our passover ? Then
(1.) The study ofthe Old Testament ia advantageous. The apostle here
writes to the Corinthians, among whom were not only Helleniata but Gentiles,
who could not understand the nature and ends of the passover without the
knowledge of the Old Testament. By this they are implicitly directed to the
study of it. The Old Testament verifies the New, and the New illustrates the
Old ; the Old shews the promises of God, and the New the performance ; what was
predicted in the Old is fulfiUed in the New. By comparing both together,
the wisdom of God in his conduct is cleared, and the truth of God in his
word confirmed. The Old Testament delivers the types, the New interprets
them ; the Old presents them like money in a bag, the New spreads them,
and diacovers the value of the coin. The Israelites in the Old felt the weight
of the ceremonies, believers in the New enjoy the riches of them.
(2.) Upon what a slender thread doth the doctrine of transubstantiation
hang. Christ is here called the passover. Was the paschal lamb therefore
substantially the body of Christ ? Were those lambs that were slain in
Egypt, or at any other time, in the celebration of thia ordinance, transub
stantiated into Christ ? Yet Christ is absolutely here called the pass-
over, and in other places the Lamb, as the bread in the sacrament is called
his body, or the wine his blood. Christ is said to be the rock of which the
Israelites drank, 1 Cor. x. 4 ; was the rook, or the jvater that flowed from
it, transubstantiated into Christ ? But in Scripture the name proper to
the thing represented is given to that which represents it. The lamb is
called the passover, because it is a memorial of the angel's passing over the
Israelites' families ; and not only called so at the first institution, but above
fifteen hundred years after that miraculous mercy. So the bread and wine
are called the body and blood of Christ, because they are memorials and
signs of his body and blood. If the church of the Jews spake figuratively
in the case of the passover, what difficulty is it that Christ should call the
memorials of his body and blood by the name of the things .they signified ?
(3.) It gives us a probable reason for the change of the Sabbath from the
seventh day to- the first. That it js changed is evident by apostolical ex
ample. It is probable that from the creation the year began in September,
the autumnal equinox, the fruits being on the trees at the creation ;* but
now God orders the beginning of the year from tbe time of this first pass-
over, and the consequences following upon it, their deliverance from Egypt,
which was in March, the vernal equinox : Exod. xii. 2, ' This month ahall
be unto you the beginning of montha ; it shall be the first month of the
year to you.' Had the year began from March at the beginning, it had not
been ao proper to command them to begin it from that month, which they
had always observed before as the beginning of the year. The Israelites
had been as it were buried in Egypt, and this being the month of their re
surrection, ahould be the first month of the year. This change of tbe
beginning of the year gives us a probable reason of the change of the Sabbath.
If the beginning of the year were changed upon the account of the type, a
day might well be changed upon the account of the antitype. If this in the
figure were counted greater than creation, that the month of the world's
* Lightfoot's Gleanings on Exod. xii. 2.

516 chabnock's wobks. [1 Coe. V. 7.
creation must give place to it, the subatance of this figure appearing might
weU be the cause of the change of a day, and the seventh day of the creation
give place to the first day of the perfection of redemption.
(4.) The ancient Jews were under a covenant of grace. Christ was the
end, the spirit, the hfe of their sacrifices. The passover, rock, sacrifices,
manna, were the swaddling-bands wherein he was wrapped. They ' ate of the
same spiritual meat, drank of the same apiritual drink;' the ' rock which
followed them,' cherished them, and watered them, ' was Christ,' 1 Cor.
X. 3, 4. Christ to come was set forth to them as an«object of faith. Christ
was the rock, the passover sacramentally. Thefr sacraments and ours were
the same in re, though diverse in signs. Hence their sacraments are attri
buted to us, circumcision and the passover, spiritually ; ours in the same
manner to them, baptiam and the Lord's Supper, 1 Cor. x. 2, 3. They
indeed had Christ, as it were, in his infancy ; we in his ripe and full age.
They had him under the obscure veils of lambs, bullocks, goats ; we have
him in his person. They had the sun under a cloud ; we the sun at noon
day in his glory.
2. Comfort ; in the security Christ procures. The destroying angel
was not to enter into any sprinkled house, no passage was afforded to him.
The wrath of God, or the malice of the devil, oan have no power over them
that are sprinkled with the blood of Christ. In the efficacy. The blood of
the lamb was but a sign of that deliverance of the Israelites, but could not
purge their defiled consciences ; but the blood of our Lamb hath merited
our salvation, can cleanse our consciences from dead and condemning works
to aerve the living God, and rejoice in him, who, without this sprinkling,
will be to us a consuming fire. As the passover was killed, that he might
be their food aa well as their security, so was Christ crucified, that he might
be our atonement and our nourishment, our shield and our food, to make us
partakers of his benefits by a spiritual apphcation, and a close incorporation
of us with himself. This comfort is the greater, by how much the tyrant we
are delivered from is more dreadful than Pharaoh ; whose design is not only,
like his, to affiict our bodies, but tumble our souls and bodies into the same
heU with himself It is from the wrath of God our passover hath delivered
us ; and what is the anger of Pharaoh to the fury of an offended Deity,
kindled against us by our multiplied transgressions ? It is true, deliverance
is yet but begun ; it is not yet perfect ; miseries and spiritual contests are
to be expected. Pharaoh will pursue, but shall not overtake ; the sea shall
ruin the Egyptians, but secure the Israelites ; death shall not swallow up
those who are sprinkled with this holy blood. Consider also, if God were
so punctual to his word in so light an instance as the blood of the lamb, he
will be as stedfast to it in so great an instance as the blood of his Son beheld
cleaving to the soul.
8. Exhortation.
(1.) Thankfully remember this passover. A redemption from divine
wrath, a spiritual life and liberty, the fruits and purchase of this lamb, are
incomparably beyond the temporal dehverance conferred upon the Jews.
The giving thanks waa a duty annexed to the eating of the paschal lamb,
wherein they blessed God for the mercy shewed to their fathers in bringing
them out of Egypt.* How infinitely more precious is the blood of the Son
of God than the blood of a silly animal ! How highly doth the benefit of
the one surmount the immediate fruit of the other ! And is it not fit our
praises should surpass those of the Jews for the old passover ? Remember
it with bittemess. The Israelites ate the passover with bitter herbs ; shall
* Buxtorff's Synag, Jud, cap, xiii.

1 CoE. V. 7. J cheist oue passovee. 517
we be without it when we consider the cause of our slavery, and the means
of our dehverance ? A bitterneaa of soul wiU make the taste of the benefit of
Christ more delicious. >
(2.) Inquire whether he be our passover. He is our passover, but is he
a lamb eaten by us, owned by us ? He is ours by the gift of God, but is he
ours by the acceptation of our aouls ? It is the most useful, most necessary
inquiry we can make. All the comforts of possessions in the world consists
in the word mine, ours, and the use as ours ; all the comfort of apiritual
mercy consists in pro^rty, possession, and fruition. If he be our Lamb,
we must be like him, we must learn of him. As he ia the cause of our
expiation, he must be the copy of our imitation : Mat. xi. 29, ' Learn of me,
for I am meek and lowly, and you ahall find rest unto your aouls.' No reat
without a aense of sin, and humiliation for it. This Lamb is ours in the
liberty, life, glory, and reat he hath purchaaed, when we are hke him, when
we leam of him.
(3.) Have faith in the blood of Chriat. The kiUing the lamb signified the
death of Christ, the sprinkling the blood aignified the application of it by
faith, Itwas not the blood contained in the veins ofthe lamb, or shed upon
the ground, that waa the mark of deliverance, but aprinkled upon the posts ;*
nor is it the blood of Christ circulating in hia body, or abed upon tbe cross,
which solely delivers us, but as applied by faith to the heart. That was
sprinkled upon every house that desired safety, and this upon every soul
that desirea happiness. Satan will have an undoubted right over all that
are without the token of this blood, as the destroying angel had over every
house that was not sprinkled with the blood of the passover. This was the
sanctuary of the Israelites, the want of it, the death of the Egyptian first
born, from the prince to the peasant, from him that, sat upon the throne to
him that was in the dungebn, Exod. xii. 29. Without this blood of sprink
ling, neither prince nor beggar can possibly escape ; the one's grandeur
cannot privilege, nor the other's misery procure a pity. The blood was to
be taken and put upon the posts ; this condition was requisite. To have a
part in the great passover of our Lord, the condition is to ' sprinkle our
hearts' by faith with his blood, 1 Pet. i. 2. Had an Israelite's family
neglected thia, it had felt the edge of the angel'a sword ; the lamb had not
availed him, not by a defect of the sacrifice, but by, their own negligence or
contempt of the condition. Or had they used any other mark, they had not
diverted the stroke ; no work, no blood, but the blood and sufferings of the
Redeemer, can take away the sin of the world ; without it, every man in the
worid lies in the sin of his nature, under the wrath of God. If anything else
in the world had a virtue for it, it could not prevail, unless God would
accept it, because he did not appoint it. This only ia designed to be our
passover ; where else can we find any remedy against the stings of our con
sciences, any ease under the weight of our sins, any consolation against
divine wrath ?
(4.) Let us leave the aervice of sin. The Israelites after this passover
did no more work at the brick-kilns of Egypt ; they ceased to be Pharaoh's
slaves, and began to be the Lord'a freemen. God intended no more to turn
them to their former labour ; he would have them eat their passover with
their loins girt, in the habit of traveUera. We muat be in a readiness to
leave the confines of Egypt, aU commerce with, and service of sin and
Satan, and have our faces set towards Canaan, our steps dfrected to observe
his commands for our rule, to attain his promiaea for our comfort, and go
* Durant Agneau Paschal.

518 chabnock's woeks. [1 Cob. Y. 7.
forward rejoicing in his goodness, celebrating his name, offering our souls
and bodies to him, which is a reasonable service to Christ our passover.
Doct. 2. Christ is a sacrifice, £6-u6ri. Tbe word 6ueiv properly signifies to
kill as a sacrifice.'* Some dispute whether the paschal lamb was a sacri
fice, because in a sacrifice something was offered to God, either in whole
or in part, but the paschal lamb was not offered to God, but eaten by
tbe people; it was kUled to the end that the blood should be sprinkled
upon the posts of the doora, and therefore it is r^her a sacrament than
a sacrifice. Again, the Jews did not sacrifice out of the temple, and
therefore in thefr captivities they did not sacrifice, but both then and now
they celebrate the passover. Othera again think it a sacrifice, because the
sprinkling of the blood upon the posts was, in a manner, an offering it to
God to tum away his wrath (Exod. xxxiv. 25, ' Thou shalt not offer the
blood of my sacrifice with leaven, neither shaU the sacrifice ofthe feast of the
passover be left until the morning'), and a means of reconciliation to him :
Deut. xvi. 2, ' Thou shalt therefore sacrifice the passover unto the Lord.'
But whether properly a sacrifice or no, yet it was significative of the pro
pitiating blood of Christ, the future grand sacrifice, by virtue of which we
have our dehverance. The apostle might here aUude to the passover and
other sacrifices, all which did prefigure the apiritual redemption by the
Messiah. A aacrifice ia defined to be a religious oblation of something con
secrated and dedicated to God, by the miniatry of a priest, according to God.'s
institution, to be destroyed, for a testimony of the worship of God and an
external symbol.f
I shall lay down aome propositions for the illustrating this doctrine.
1. Sacrifices were instituted as types of Christ.
(1.) They were instituted by God. No satisfactory reason can be ren
dered of the custom of sacrificing, derived from the first age of the world,
practised by all nations, till the appearance of the gospel abolished it in those
placea where it shone. It could not be a dictate of the law of nature
inscribed in all men'a hearta, for then they would have been of force still.
Christianity doth not extinguish any beam of natural light, but adds a clear
ness to it ; it abolisheth only what was corrupt, or only ceremonial. Though
natural hght could not invent them, yet it m-ade them entertainable by aU,
while they were stung with the conscience of sin and expectations of ven
geance. Men might know that they were unhke to what they were in their
creation ; they found their light darkened, their beauty defaced, and might
suppose that a God of infinite goodness did not send them forth in such a
shape out of his mint ; this deformity must come upon them for some pro
vocation, and by the means of their own sin. They also found the marks of
God'a anger upon them, saw and felt his thundering judgments in the world;
they had a notion of the vindictive justice of God ; they had frequent mani
festations of it upon themselves and others. This the apostle affirms gene
rally of the heathens : Rom. i. 32, ' They knew the judgment of God, that
they which commit such things are worthy of death ; ' they had a sentiment
of God and revenging justice in their consciences, that it did not become the
holiness and righteousnesa of the divine nature to let thefr rebelliona remain
unpunished. The apostle speaka not there of any aupernatural revelation,
but the natural manifestation by the creatures, whereby his justice was dis
covered, as well as his eternal power and Godhead. Upon this account
sacrifices were practised among them, as seeming to them congruous means
^ 0VE/W h^eTx. ®uini ^vjia-s, Stephan.
t Cloppenburg. de Sacrifioiis, p. 4, Owen against Biddle, p. 479.

1 CoE. V. 7.] chbist oub passovee. 519
for the expiation of sin, and to put a stop to the wrath of God, either feared
by them or already kindled among them. For by this action they confessed
their desert of death for their crimes, acknowledged God's sovereignty and
right over all they had, and owned his mercy in accepting in their stead the
life of an irrational animal. For when men are sensible of the anger of God,
the next thought in order is how to escape it. When men see a magistrate
suffer murders and violences in a nation to go unpunished, they generally
have an horror of it, and expect some judgment of God, till an expiation be
made by the death of the offender. And could they reasonably think God
to be void of that virtue of justice, which is commendable over all the world
by the light of nature, when those perfections of human nature, left in the
midst of corruption, are but as little sparks to those which are infinite in
God ? They were at first instituted by God ; though we have not the insti
tution of them in express words, yet we have the practice in Abel, Gen. iv. 4 ;
afterwards in Noah, Gen. viii. 20, Noah offered burnt offerings on the altar.
And since the apostle, Heb. xi. 4, speaks of Abel's offering a sacrifice in
faith, it must be God's command ; for no act of worship of a human inven
tion can please God. The demand might be made. Who hath required thoae
things at your hands ? It had not been formally good unless offered in
faith ; nor had it been a fit ground or medium of faith without a divine
stamp upon it. If the foundation were not divine, the act could not be
acceptable. (2.) No other reason can be rendered of the institution of them, but as
typical of the great sacrifice of the Redeemer. The Scripture gives us the
only account of this ; all nations in the world without the Scripture are in
the dark as to the design of those sacrifices, though they practised them
conformably to the sentiments of their consciences. The institution of them
from the beginning of the world cannot reasonably be concluded to be for any
other end than to prefigure some sufficient sacrifice, able to appease the wrath
of God, and pacify the consciences of men, and to instruct men in what was
to be brought upon the stage in time, in the exhibition of the person of the
Redeemer. In the state of innocence we find no mention of them, nor could
they have had any place had man continued in his created rectitude and
integrity. The covenant of works, which then was the rule and ground of
man's standing, required not faith in a Redeemer, and therefore implied no
such act as sacrificing. Man then had no relation to God but as a creature,
and persisting in obedience could not by the righteous law of God be subject
to death, and therefore no other subjected to death for him ; for to have any
one to die for ua implies that we had merited death ourselves. It cannot
enter into the reason of man to imagine what use they could be for in that
state. Death was not due to the righteousness of man's nature, but to his
corruption. Adam stood upon his own bottom, and was the foundation of
all his posterity, and no person was substituted in his room. What could
sacrifices then represent ? Whereof could they be typical ? Could they be
for the confession of sin ? There was none to confess. Could they be to
represent a death deaerved ? There was no crime committed whereby to
merit it. Could it be to typify Christ to come ? There was no revelation of
him tiU after the faU, Gen. iu. 15. And supposing (as some do) that Christ
should have been incarnate had man persisted in his first integrity, yet none
suppose that Christ should have been crucified in that nature without the
entrance of sin. What end could be supposed of shedding his blood ? For
satisfaction of justice ? Justice was not provoked. For example ? Man,
perfect in all virtue, needed none ; besides, he was not capable of the exer
cise of suffering virtues, who was not capable of suffering in that state. They

520 chabnock's woeks. [1 Cob. V. 7.
were appointed therefore after the faU, as the representations of this sacrifice,
so necessary for the expiation of sin. And some conclude with probability that
they were put in practice immediately after the making the promise of the
seed of the woman (though there be no express scripture for it), from Gen.
iii. 21, ' God made them coats of skins,' which probably were the skins of
slain beasta, very likely consumed by fire from heaven, as the Jews say
Abel's sacrifice was, which was a token of God's acceptation of it. This was
probably done for the confirmation of the truth of the promise, the clearer
representing the deaign of it to them, by substituting another in the room of
the offender, and comforting them thereby, aince ' without shedding of blood
ia no remission,' Heb. ix. 22. And of those sacrificea the akina were
appointed to be the garments of the first man and woman, to put them in
mind of their apostasy, and the way of their recovery, and the righteousness
of another, wherein they were to atand before God. But howsoever it be,
we cannot auppoae Abel to be the first that offered sacrifice, and that 129
years should run without the offering of any.'* It is likely Abel was slain
in that year, because Seth was born in the 130th year of Adam's age. Gen.
V. 8. Indeed sacrificea, aa they looked backward, could be no other than a
transcript of the agreement between the Father and the Son, of the one's
paying, and the other's accepting the price of blood for the redemption of
man ;f and aa they looked forward, a type of the real performance of the
sufferings on the one part, and the acceptance of them on the other part,
when the fulness of time should come wherein they were actually to be
undergone. This tradition of sacrifices waa handed down to all nationa of
the world, but the knowledge of the end of them waa lost. Yet in an exer
cise of reason they might rise to a consideration, that thia low blood could
not be a compensation for sin, as not being proportioned to the dignity of
him with whom they had to do. But as to the true end of them, the repre-
.sentation of a higher sacrifice, they were not able to discern it by all the
reason in the world, after they had lost the revelation of it. By the way,
this adds a credit to the Scripture, since it gives us an account of the reason
of that which was practised by all nations, which they could not without
revelation render any tolerable reason for. The Scripture makea it plain.
God would have a representation of that which the Redeemer was to offer in
the fulness of time for the abolition of sin. As men always need a satisfac
tion of the justice of God, so God would have it that in all thefr worship
there should be a mark of this necessity, and some presage that one day there
should be a aacrifice eternally efficacioua, the reality of which was represented
by this figure. J
(3.) Christ did really answer to these types. They were all Christ in a
cloud ; the substance did answer to the shadowa, and he was used in such a
manner as the figures of him were. Christ waa a rictim put in the place of
the sinner to appease the anger of God; and aa sins were laid upon the
head of the sacrifice, so God ' put upon him the iniquitiea of ua aU,' Isa.
liii. 6. In regard of this typicalness of the legal administration, Christ isv
often called a lamb, and ' the Lamb of God,' John i. 29, and ' a Lamb slain
fiom the foundation of the world,' not only in the decree, but in the type of
him, the first sacrifice mentioned in Scripture, which was a firstling of the
flock. Gen. iv. 2, 4, Abel being a keeper of sheep. To those figures of him
be seems to refer in his last speech upon the cross, John xix. 30, ' It is
finished.' The whole design of the daily and extraordinary sacrifices was
* Cloppenburg. de Saorific. pp. 12, 18.
t Owen on Hebrews, vol. ii. Exercit., p. 61, much changed.
t Amyraut sur Hebr. vii. p. 50.

1 Coe, V. 7.] cheist oue passo-veb. 521
completed, the demerit of sin and severity of dirine justice were manifested,
and the truth of God, as well as his love, made glorious therein ; upon
which followed the rending of the veil, and the setting heaven open for the
entrance of all that beheved in him, to approach to God upon the account
of this sacrifice.
2. The sacrificea thus instituted were of themselves insufficient, and could
not expiate sin, they must therefore receive thefr accomplishment in some
other. Being but shadows by their institution, they could make nothing
perfect, Heb. x. 1, 11, where, and in the foUowing verses, the apostle laya
fhe glory of the legal sacrificea in the duat ; nor really atone, though they
typically did, they did but evidence the guilt of ain and misery of men,
whence the law is called a minister of death.
(1.) It waa not consiatent with the honour of God to be contented with
the blood of a beast for an expiation of ^n. How could there be in it a
diacovery of the severity of his justice, tbe purity of his holiness, or the
grandeurs of his grace ? How would he have been known in his infinite
hatred of sin, if he had accepted the blood of an abject animal as an atone
ment for the sin of a spiritual soul ? Was it becoming the majesty of God,
who had denounced a curse in the law upon the transgressors of it, and
published it with so terrible a solemnity, as thunders, lightnings, earth
quakes, which made it pass under the title of a fiery law, Deut. xxxiii. 2, in
regard of the severe menaces against the transgressor, to make so light of
it, to accept of the mangling a few beasta in the place of the offender againat
it ?* Should he appear on mount Sinai with ten thousand of hia angels in
the giving of it, to let all the threatenings of it vanish into smoke ? Was it
likely all those euraea should be poured out upon a few irrational and inno
cent creaturea, who had never broken that law ? Can it be imagined, that
after so terrible a proclamation, he should acquiesce in so light a compensation
as the death of a poor beast ? No man oan reasonably have such despicable
thoughts of the majesty, juatice, and holiness of God, or the vileness of sin
and greatness of ita provocation, as to imagine that the one could be con
tented, or the other expiated, by the blood of a lamb or bullock. Our own
consciences will tell ua that if God will have a sacrifice, it must be propor
tioned to the majesty of him whom we have offended, and the greatness of
the crime we have committed.
(2.) They have no proportion to the sin of man. The sin of a rational
creature is too foul to be expiated by the blood of an irrational creature ;
nor could the blood of a human body, though tbe first-born, the strength
and delight of man, Micah vi. 7, much less of a beast, bear any proportion
to the sin of the soul : Heb. x. 4, ' It is not possible that the blood of bulls
and goats should take away sin.' The butchery of so poor a creature can
not be any compensation for thatwhich is a disparagement ofthe Creator of
the world. What alliance was there between the nature of a beast and that
of a man ? An inferior nature can never atone the sin of a nature superior
to it. There is indeed in the groans of thoae dying creatures some demon
stration of God's wrath, but no bringing in an everlasting righteousness, nor
any vindication of the honour of the law.
(8.) The reiteration of them shews their insufficiency.f Had the wrath
of God been appeased by them, why should the fire burn perpetually upon
the altar ? Why should it be perpetually with the carcases of beasts ? As
often as they were offered, a conscience of sin waa excited in the presenter
of them, iniquity was caUed to remembrance, Heb. x. 2, 3. The whole
scene of that administration loudly published that the wrath against sin was
» Amyraut, des Eeligions, p. 309, 310. t Jackson, vol. ii. 292.

522 chabnock's woeks. [1 Coe. V. 7.
not appeased, the guilt of the soul not wiped off. If a man had pre
sented a sacrifice for his sin one day, and fallen into the same, or another,
before night, he must have repeated his sacrifice for a new expiation ; had
there bean ability in them to perform so great a thing, there had not been
a repetition. They were rather a commemoration of sin, and confessions of
it, than expiations of any ; rather accusers than atoners.
(4.) God had often spoken shghtly of them. He resembles them to the
' cutting off a dog's neck,' when done with an unholy heart, Isa. Ixvi. 3.
While the temple stood, he struck their fingers off from hanging upon them,
Isa. i. 11-18 ; indeed, he would 'not reprove them for their offering,' Ps.
1. 8, but he would not have them place their justification in them. He pro
fesseth he bad no dehght in them, Ps. xl. 6. If aU sacrifices of the law
were not of such value as love to him and fear of him, they could not ex
piate ; and if that which was more excellent than those were too weak to
effect it, an utter inability must remain in the other. He doth frequently
predict the abohtion of them, and hath destroyed the temple to which he
had affixed them, which remains in desolation without a sacrifice to this
day. Besides, he never provided a typical remedy for all sins in them ;
some transgressors were to be cut off without a sacrifice for them, according
to the judicial law, the rule of the government of that people ; upon which
account David argues that God did not delight in them : Ps. li. 16, ' Thou
desirest not sacrifice, thou delightest not in burnt-offerings,' because he had
provided no sacrifices for those aina David at that time was guUty of; .
whereupon he desires, ver. 18, that God would 'do good to Sion in his good
pleasure ; ' bring forth that Redeemer out of Sion which he had promised,
whose sacrifice, being a sacrifice of righteousness, should -be infinitely delight
ful to him. Since, therefore, it is unbecoming the majesty of God to be
satisfied with the blood of a calf or goat, aince it beara no proportion to the
ain of man ; since he never intended those inatitutions to be perpetual ; since
the threatenings of the law must, if God be a God of truth, have thefr
accomplishment either in the person offending, or in some undertaker for
him, capable to bear them in hia stead ; there must be some other sacrifice
suited to the majesty of God, able to make an expiation proportionable to
the sin of man, a sacrifice able to remove the guilt and pacify the conscience,
a rest for God and a security for the creature. The natural order of things
requirea, and the whole design of those legal institutions declares, that as he
that keeps the law should have a reward from the goodness of God, so he
that breaks it should endure a punishment from the justice of God ; and
every man being a breaker of the law, must either sink under the menaces
of it, or present a sufficient sacrifice to God to avert his wrath, a precious
blood that may quench the flamea of hia anger, that God may say to the
sinner, ' I have found,' and accepted, ' a ransom ' for thee. And what is
said of this may be said of all our duties and performances, the staves upon
which men naturally lean for acceptation of their persons. They can no
more be acceptable in themselves to God, or remedies for man, than. the
legal sacrifices, which had no merit in themselvea, but represented that which
was grateful to God and meritorious for the creature ; and whatsoever
virtue and efficacy they had was not from themselves, but from that which
they shadowed.
3. Proposition. Such a aacrifice, therefore, is necessary for a sinful crea
ture. No creature can be such a sacrifice. Aa the apostle argues, ' If right
eousness be by the law, then was Christ dead in vain,' Gal. ii. 21. Upon the
same account it may be concluded, if expiation could be made by a creature
for himself, in vain did God send his Son to be a propitiation for sin. Had

1 Coe. V. 7.] chbist oue passovee. 523
man himself been sufficient for it, God's sending his Son had rather appeared
an act of cruelty to Christ than of mercy to us. Who could think God should
expose the delight of his soul to our infirmitiea and a shameful death, if a
sufficient sacrifice could have been found elsewhere ? Besides, the wrath of
God being so terrible that the human nature of Chriat trembled at it, how is
any creature ever able to bear the horror of it, and stand as a sacrifice under
the weighty strokes of that justice ?
(1.) What is a sacrifice for ain must be pure and sinless. God will not
accept a defiled offering. He that provokes him • by his own offence is not
capable of appeasing him for his own or another's. The least blemish in a
typical lamb rendered it unfit for the altar. God is infinitely pure who is
offended ; the law ia exactly holy which ia contemned. A compensation
cannot be made to a holy Gpd and a righteous law by the criminal without
enduring an infinite penalty, which, because it cannot be intensive so, must
be extensive, infinite in point of duration, i, e. aince it cannot be infinite it
must be perpetual. As he would be always suffering, so he would be always
sinning, and wrath can never be appeased by that which provokes it at the
same time it endeavours to pacify it. What ia displeasing can never be cap
able of pleasing an infinite holinesa. If a man had but one ain, and thought
to expiate that by anything he could do, he would still need another sacrifice
to expiate the afri of the former, and so would be always satisfying and always
sinning, since ' there is no man that doth good and sins not,' i. e. in the doing
of it, Eccles. vii. 20 ; he could not possibly find anything in himself or in
any corrupted creature, where he might rest his foot with any content and
security. Where any sin is, though but one, there can be no merit. What
soever is done after all our strength is gone ia done by the grace of God.
In that case God deserves aervice of us, but we deserve no acceptation from
him. Since, therefore, we are not able since our fall to do one good work,
we are not able to offer one acceptable sacrifice, how can man then satisfy
for himself, any more than a man that owes a shilling pays that by borrowing
two, whereby he is so far from paying his debt that he increaseth it ?
(2.) An infinite sacrifice is necessary for a sin in aome respects in
finite ; for every sin entrencheth upon the honour of an infinite God. An
infinite sacrifice ia due for an infinite offence. God is infinite in hia
glory, which is impaired, infinite in hia aovereignty, which is degraded ;
the sacrifice must be of as great a dignity as the offence was of malignity.
It must be fully proportioned to the sin of man and the majeaty of God.*
What man, nay, what creature is capable of such a proportion ? The con
dition of hia nature is too low, and the limits of his dignity too strait, to
correspond with such an effect. The drop of a bucket and the dust of the
balance are of too vile a nature to be a satisfactory sacrifice to God. All
men are no more, laa. xl. 15-17, nay, ' worse than nothing and vanity,' and
therefore aU men in the world put together would be so far from redeeming
themselves by a sufficient aacrifice, that as themselves, so their sacrifice, would
be worse than nothing and vanity, and would be overwhelmed under the
punishment due to their ofience. Finite beara no proportion to infinite,
therefore a finite sacrifice carries no equivalent compensation in it for an
infinite wrong ; so that neither length of time nor strength of nature can
ever make a recompence for that offence, which increaseth in proportion
according to the dignity of the person against whom it is committed. If
every hair of our head were a soul, and every soul a sacrifice, all would be
too poor an amends for that glorious God wronged by us, though it had
been but by one act of rebeUion ; for man cannot do any act of that value
* Amyraut, des Beligions, p. 395.

524 chabnock's woeks. [1 Cob. V. 7.
in tbe nature of satisfaction, as one act of ain is injurious in the nature of
wrong. Upon the same account of finiteneaa no angel could be a propor
tionable sacrifice to tbe justice of God for the sin of man ; for, though the
exceUency of the angelical far transcends the nature of man, yet it cannot
equal the dignity of God.* They are creatures, and an unconceivable dis
tance ia perpetually between creaturea and tbe Creator ; therefore saith Job,
chap. iv. 18, ' He puts no trust in his aervanta, and his angels he chargeth
vrith folly.' AU the exceUency of the angelical nature is despicable com
pared vrith God, and if God did not secure them they would fall ; if God
did not preserve light in them, they would be darkness as weU as we. If
they could not because they are creatures, man could not because he was a
sinful creature ; ' Thousands of rivers of oil, and thousanda of rams,' would
have borne far lesa proportion to the Creator of them, or to sins against
him, Micah vi. 6, 7.
(3.) Necesaary, in regard of the justice of God, which is an immutable
and infinite perfection of fhe divine essence. As God is so infinitely holy as
it is impoasible he ahould not but hate the leaat sin, so he ia infinite in his
justice, and cannot let any sin go unpunished, since he hath declared by his
law, that ' cursed is he that continueth not in aU things of the law to do
them,' and that itwas irrevocably pasaed, that ' in the day man ate of the for
bidden fruit he should die the death,' Gen. u. 17. As tbe perfection of his
nature requires that he should have for sin an implacable aversion, so the
same perfection requires that justice be not appeased without punishment.
Since God therefore would have a sacrifice for sin, to have one dispropor
tioned to his infinite dignity and justice, bad been the same aa to have none
at aU. An infinite sacrifice cannot be offered but by an infinite person ; it
is necessary therefore that one of the persons of the Trinity should be this
sacrifice, and it was most congruous to the wiadom of God, upon several
accounts, that it should be the second. Thia aacrifice is necessary at least
in point of becomingness. As God is the author of all things, and placed them
in a rectitude from which they departed by their own folly, and suUied that
glory they were created to manifest ; it became him to bring things into
order again by such a method aa should manifest bis hatred of that disorder
sin had introduced into the world, and how strict a guardian he would be of
the eternal order of thinga, and of those aacred lawa whereby he governa the
world : Heb. ii. 10, ' It became him for whom are aU thinga, and by whom
are all things, in bringing many sons to glory, to make the captain of their
salvation perfect through suffering.' As God had made all things for his
glory, ao it was fit his Son, becoming the head of the world, should be put
in such a posture as to shew forth the glory of God in the most illustrious
manner. Now, in the sufferings of Christ, the justice of God flames more
bright than it could in any creature, and shews itself inflexible against sin ;
the treasures of his grace are wider opened than could be in any other act,
and his -wisdom sparkles more gloriously in bringing men to glory by punish
ment ; and since he made all things, and that for himself, it became him
after the apostasy of man and the defacing the creation, to restore things in
such a way aa might conduce most to his own glory and the happiness of
the creature.
4. Proposition. Christ only was fit to be this sacrifice. Whatsoever any
creature could have done had been a debt of duty, and that could not have
made a compensation for a debt of rebellion. Whatsoever a mere creature
could do was by the gift of God, and therefore could not merit anything at
the hand of God. Whataoever ia meritorioua must be our own, as well as
* Amyraut, des Religions, p. 335.

1 Cob. V. 7.] cheist oue passovee. 525
that which is not due. Besides, from any other hand God would have re
ceived lesa than the offence merited ; at the beat, it would have been but a
feigned and partial satiafaction, which had not been congruoua to the wiadom
and justice of God, since he determined it necessary to have a sacrifice. But
Chriat in his divine nature was ' equal with God,' Philip, ii. 6, and therefore in
his person was answerable to the dignity of the person offended ; and as he
waa in the form of a servant and innocent, he offered that which was not due
from himaelf and upon hia own account to God ; for though as a creature he
was bound to the obedience of the precepts of the law, yet as an innocent
creature he was not obliged to the penalties of the law : suffering was in no
wise due upon his own account. And he was without blemish. Had he
been a criminal, he could not have been a remedy. He had also an alliance
with both parties ; he could treat vrith God as partaking of his glory, and be
a sacrifice for man as partaking of the infirmities of his nature. He had a
body to bear the stroke due to a victim, and a dirine nature to sustain him
under it. He had a human nature to offer as a sacrifice, and a divine nature
to render it valuable and infinitely meritorioua ; being God and man, he
wanted not a fitness to accomplish so great an undertaking. If he had not
been man, he could not have been a sacrifice ; and if he had not been God,
he could not have been a remedy.
5. It waa necessary, in regard of his office of priesthood, that he should
be a sacrifice. He was constituted as ' a priest for ever,' by an oath, Ps.
ex. 4. Now, he could not be a priest without a sacrifice ; a priest and a
sacrifice are relatives : Heb. v. 1, ' Every high priest taken from among
men, ia ordained for men in thinga pertaining to God, that he may offer
both gifts and sacrifices for sin^. It is therefore of necessity that this man
have something to offer,' Heb. viii. 3. As he was a prophet, he was to have
a doctrine to teach ; as a king, he waa to have aubjecta to govern; as a
prieat, he waa to have a sacrifice to offer ; as he waa a prophet, he waa to
dehver aomething from God to men ; as he waa a prieat, he was to present
something for man to God; as a prophet, he was to teach men' obedience to
God ; aa a priest, he was to make God propitious to men ; that which he
was to offer must be expiatory, that is the proper notion of a sacrifice ; the
other offermgs are termed gifts. If he had offered the blood of buUs and
goats, we had been in the same caae we were in before ; the insufficiency of
them had not been removed by the dignity of the offerer ; they could never
in their own nature be proportioned to the dignity ofthe wronged aovereign,
or be adequate to the puniahment the criminal had deserved. The impos
aibility of their taking away sin is positively asserted, Heb. x. 4. The
transcendent exceUency of the priest could never alter the disproportion be
tween the justice of God provoked by sin, and the death of the miserable
beaat for it ; though the person offering had been greater, the thing offered
had been the same ; besides, the offending nature had not suffered, but a
nature inferior to it. They must have been alwaya offered, the repetition of
them must have been continued, and had that been a proper employment
for the Son of God, to have been always imbruing hia hands in the blood of
animals ? But a sacrifice must be offered by him (if he did not offer one,
he was no priest), and none but himself was a sacrifice worthy to be offered
by so great a priest. He offered but once, and it was himself he offered,
Heb. vii. 27. And this was so spotless, Heb. ix. 14 ; and of ao sweet
smeUing savour, Eph. v. 2, that it need not again be repeated, Heb. ix. 28.
Hia unblemished ' soul was made an offering for sin,' Isa. liii. 10. For
being a prieat of another kind than the legal priests, he must have a aacrifice
of another kind.

526 chabnock's woeks. [1 Cob. V. 7.
6. Proposition. Jesus Christ, then, was a sacrifice in his human nature.
To this end a body was prepared for him, to be substituted in the place of
those sacrifices wherein God had no pleasure : Heb. x. 5, ' Sacrifice and
offering thou wouldst not, but a body hast thou prepared me.' Cited
out of Ps. xl. 6, ' Mine eara hast thou opened' (as some* think figuratively,
the ear being taken for tbe whole body, because obedience is learned by the
ear, the inatrument of hearing the will of another). The will of God was,
that he should be an offering in this body : Heb. x. 10, ' By which will we
are sanctified through the offering of the body of Christ once for all.' And
his soul was an offering for sin, Isa. liii. 10. The first promise evidenced,
that though the aeed of the woman should tear up the empire of the devU,
which by the law he had over ainnera, yet it ahould be by the suffering
something from him, by having hia heel bruised. There was an obedience
to the law to be performed, without which he had not been capable of being
a sacrifice ; the penalty of the law to be endured, without whioh he could
not be an actual sacrifice. Neither of those could be but in the human
nature; obedience to the law is not consistent with the aovereignty of God;
according to his divine nature he was under no law. Suffering was impossible
to the Deity ; it is the property of God to be immutable and impassible.
His human nature therefore was the sacrifice ; for as he waa made of a
woman, whereby he took onr nature, as he was made under the law, whereby
he subjected himself to our obedience, he ' redeemed us from under the law,'
from our condemnation, Gal. iv. 5. He that was to break the serpent's
head, i. e. to dissolve the power which, as an executioner, he had from an
offended God, was to be the seed of the woman. And thia he effected by
his death and bloody sacrifice, a,ppeasing the wrath of God, and thereby
destroying the power of the jailor, which he obtained by the entrance of sin
and the curse of the law : Heb. ii. 14, ' Through death he destroyed him
that had the power of death,' i. e. the deril. This sacrifice was both of
soul and body, as the threatening was, ' In the day thou eatest thou shalt
die the death,' i. e, be subject to the death and condemnation both of soul
and body. As the reward of goodness respects the entire man, composed
of soul and body, so doth the punishment of ain, which hath corrupted one
as well as the other. The sacrifice therefore to be offered for the appeasing
that wrath, and removing that curse, was to consist both of soul and body.
7. Proposition. That whereby thia sacrifice was sanctified was the
divine nature. Every aacrifice was aanctified by the altar. Mat. xxui. 19.
There must be aomething to add an infinite value to the aufferinga of his
humanity,! which could be nothing but the divine nature, and union vrith it.
Nothing but that which ia infinite can confer an infinite value on that which
is finite. The infinitenesa of dignity resides in the dirine nature and
esaence, and the infiniteness of dignity ia as incommunicable as the infinite
nesa of essence. For it hath its root and foundation in the infiniteness of
being, and the one is but the reflection of the other. It is impoasible to
add a dignity without limits, but one must attribute an essence without
bounds, aa it is impossible that anything oan possess the lustre and enliven
ing virtue of the sun but the sun itself The human nature suffered, and
the divine nature sanctified the humanity, and by reason of this admirable
union, and the refiection of the divinity upon the humanity, what was done
to the human nature upon the cross, is ascribed to the whole person. They
' crucified the Lord of glory,' 1 Cor. ii. 8. And God ' purchased the
church with bis own blood,' Acts xx. 28. It was this made his sufferings
acceptable to God, whose justice waa to be satiafied ; and efficacious for
* Owen against Biddle, p. 477. t Amyraut, des Religions, p, 336.

1 Cob. V. 7.] cheist oue passo-teb. 627
man, whose happinesa and commerce with God were to be restored, and his
indigencies to be supplied. Thus some interpret Heb. ix. 14, ' Through the
eternal Spirit he offered himself to God,' underatanding by eternal Spirit his
Deity ; not that he suffered in his divine nature, but by virtue of that pre
sented himself to his Father a most acceptable sacrifice. So that he had a
human nature to serve for a sacrifice, and an eternal apirit or divine nature,
wherein he subsisted, from whence that sacrifice derived an infinite dignity,
as gold, which hath a lustre of itself, hath a greater when the sun shines full
upon it. We may aee here how Chriat was a priest, aacrifice, altar, in
several respects : a priest in his person, a sacrifice in his humanity, the
altar in hia divinity. He was the offerer and the sacrifice, both are ex
pressed : Eph. V. 2, 'He offered up himself Active as a priest, passive
as a victim ; as one, offering ; as the other, offered. Upon this account of
his blood being offered by his person, he is called God in the act of oblation
of his blood for the redemption of the church. Acts xx. 28, ' which he,'
referring to God, 'hath purchased with his own blood.' The- Jews and
soldiers were not the priests, as some affirm. They were the instruments
of slaying him, but not with the intention of a sacrifice. They were instru
ments in it, but could not force him to it. His death was intended by
them ; his death as a sacrifice intended by himself; his laying down his
life was of himself, John xx. 18, which is not meant barely of his death, but
of his death as respecting his sheep, ver. 15, and indeed unless it had been
voluntary, it had not been savoury.
8. Proposition. Upon the sacrifice of Christ all his other sacerdotal acts
depend, and from thence they receive their validity for us. It ia fit there
fore we should well understand and often consider this sacrifice, which is
the foundation of all our peace and comfort in reference to God. This was
the chief thing God eyed in the first declaration of him. Gen. iii. 15, in the
serpent's bruising his heel ; nothing but this spoken of. His resurrection
was first represented in the safety of Isaac, after he was designed to death,
and other things not tUl after that successively ; God making the hght to
dawn upon them by degrees.
(1.) This was the ground of his ascension and entrance into heaven aa a
prieat. The high prieat waa not to enter within the veil without blood ;
what waa in the type, was to be answered in the antitype. An expiatory
sacrifice was necesaary to precede his ascenaion to heaven ; the sacrifice
must be offered upon the earth, as the legal sacrifies were without, — heaven
was no place for slaughter, — and with his blood he was to enter. Heaven's
gates had been abut against him without it. Death was the penalty threatened,
if the legal high priest ventured to step into the holy of holies without blood.
The apostle argues from this, Heb. ix. 7, ' Into the second went tbe high
priest alone once every ye^r, not without blood, whioh he offered for him
self, and for the errors of the people,' and ver. 25. According to this type,
Christ by hia own blood entered once into the holy place. How and in what
order ? After he had obtained redemption for ua, Heb. ix. 12, which is
ascribed to his death, ver. 15. His entrance into heaven, and what he doth
for us there, is laid upon the account of his death as a sacrifice upon the
earth ; by virtue of which he went to heaven to present it to God, and apply
it to us. And besides, all his royalty and power, whereby we have security
and protection from him, depends upon thia ; for it is because of that obe
dience to blood and death whioh he rendered to God, that he hath given,
him a name above every name, and advanced him to a sovereign power :
Philip, ii. 8, 9, ' Wherefore God also hath highly exalted him ;' wherefore,
referring to his death, ver. 8.

528 chabnock's woeks. [1 Coe. V. 7.
(2.) This is the foundation of his intercession. There are two functions
of Christ's priesthood, oblation and intercession ;* they are both joined
together, but one as precedent to the other. The legal high priest, when
he had first out the throat of the sacrifice without (upon the day of the anni
versary sacrifice), was not esteemed by that act to have completed his pro
pitiation, till he had entered into the sanctuary, and sprinkled the blood of
the sacrifice with hia finger ; so the propitiation made by our Redeemer was
not fully complete till he entered into heaven to exercise his intercession.
Yet the oblation precedes the intercession, and the intercession could not be
without the oblation. It was with the blood of the victim, and no other
blood, he was to enter. Without the oblation he would have had nothing
to present in his intercesaion. They are placed in thia order by the apostle,
1 John ii. 1, 2. He ia first a sacrifice for propitiation, then an advocate
for intercession. What he doth as an advocate, is grounded upon what he
did as a sacrifice ; and, were it not so, the apostle's arguing would not be
valid, who placeth our salvation by the life of Christ upon our reconciha-
tion by the death of Christ, Rom. v. 10. Indeed, he could not have been
admitted, according to the type, as an advocate, but as being the high priest,
and a high priest he could not have been without a sacrifice.
(8.) This is the foundation of all the grace any have. The conveyance
of all the gracioua love of Christ is through this channel. In redemption
by his blood, the riches of the grace of God abounded, and that with the
marks of the highest wisdom, Eph. i, 7, 8. All had laid buried from the
view of man, and the fruition of men, without this sacrifice. This did com
mend his love, as well as satisfy his justice. His wrath had not been ap
peased, nor bis grace drawn out to us without it ; nor could the Redeemer
lay any claim to any grace and mercy for those for whom he came, unless
he had suffered for them aa well as taken fleah for them. Hia offering him
aelf, Isa. liii. 10-12, precedes his having a seed. The being and beauty of
his seed depend upon the efficacy ofhis meritorious sacrifice. The offering his
soul goes before the pardon of our sin ; the payment of the ransom before
the sprinkling it on us ; the sealing of the covenant before the making good
the covenant ; his sufferings before his triumph, and the streams of his blood
, before the treasures of his grace. Upon the account of this sacrifice we
enjoy tbe presence of God, protection against the enemies of our salvation,
and receive the blessings necessary for our souls. By all this it appears
that Christ ia a sacrifice. This was his intent in coming. His death as
a aacrifice was his intention in the assumption of our fleah ; the prophecies
predicted it, the types represented it ; this he pursued, for this he thirsted.
The accomplishment of this fiery baptism was the matter of his longing, his
thoughts were never off from it, his will shrunk not from it ; when his human
will shewed some reluctance, it quickly returned to its fixedness: nothing
could deter him, nothing could divert him. When he undertook to be me
diator, he undertook to be a sacrifice, aa a thing necessarily annexed to that
office for the honour of God's justice, and the preservation of the rights of
his sacred law. Upon which account, when the apostle speaks of this media
tor, he adds with the same breath, ' who gave himself a ransom for all,'
1 Tim. ii. 5, 6. After the title of mediator follows ' the blood of sprinkling,'
Heb. xii. 24. A mediator he was by meana of his death, Heb. ix. 15. It
is with good reason, therefore, that in our creed there ia ao quick a passage
from the nativity of Christ to his passion, without any mention of the acts
of his life, because he was incarnate, that he might be crucified.
The esaence of a aacrifice consisted,
* Amyraut, Serm, sur Heb. ix, p, 187.

1 Coe. V. 7.] cheist oue passovee. 529
[1.] In the slaying or destroying it. [2. J In the offering it to God. Both
were done in Christ.
[1.] In the slaying or destroying it. The shedding of the blood, the seat
of the spirits, which are the instruments of action, was necessary to an ex
piatory sacrifice. The scape-goat,, indeed, is called a sacrifice. Lev. xvi. 5,
which was not slain in the temple, nor burned, but sent into the wilderness ;
and, as the Jews tell ua, destroyed by being thrown down a rock, to which
purpose men were appointed, who were to give notice of it by some signals
from hill to hill, at a convenient distance, before whioh notice the congrega
tion at Jerusalem did not dissolve. But the other expiatory sacrifices were
devoured by fire ; fire being the highest representation in the world of the
justice of God. The aufferinga of Christ extended to aoul and body. He
was scorched by the wrath of God, Ps. xxii ; ' His soul poured out to death,'
Isa. liii. 12, -alluding to the blood of the sacrifices poured out ; and his
human nature dissolved by the separation of the soul and body.
[2.] In the offering it to God. Oblation to God was a main part of the
sacrifice ; so ' Christ offered himself to God,' Eph. v. 2. To God, as es
sentially considered, whereby the whole right of rectorship and dominion
waa acknowledged belonging to God. Had the death of Christ been only
for example, it had not been offered to God, who was not capable of any
example to be set him. It being, therefore, offered to him, manifests it to
be a sacrifice.
Doct. 8. Christ was sacrified for us. i/Tsg, when joined with suffering for
another, always signifies in another's stead and place. It is so used, Rom.
V. 7, ' For a good man some would even dare to die ;' i. e. instead of a good
man, to free bim from the death he was designed to, not only for his sake ;
so Gal. iii. 13, ' He was made a curse for us,' i. e. in our stead, suffering the
curse due to us for our sins. He is called ' the Lamb of God,' in regard of
God'a deaignation of him ; our lamb, our passover, in regard of his substi
tution in our place ; as he died to appease the wrath of God, his death
referred to the justice of God; as that justice flamed out against us, his
death referred to us ; he was a screen between the heat of wrath and the
sufferings of the creature ; a mediator, respecting God for his satisfaction
and glory, respecting us for our reparation and grace.
This will be cleared, if we consider,
1. That Chriat could not be a sacrifice for himself The Messiah was to
be cut off, but not for himself,' Dan. ix. 36 ; he needed no sacrifice for him
aelf, aa the other high prieata did; they were ainnera, he was harmless; they
being encompassed with infirmitiea, needed, or ought to offer sacrihces for
themselves, Heb. v. 2, 3; he was ' a lamb without blemish,' 1 Peter i. 19,
who ' knew no sin, nor was guile found in his mouth,' nor did he ever do
any thing displeasing to his Father, John viii. 29. He needed no glory to
be purchased for him, fpr he waa from eternity happy in the same essence
with the Father, being ' God blessed for ever, over all,' Rom. ix. 5, having
the command over all, and wanting nothing to a perfect blessedness. The
sacrifices, which were types of him, could not be for themselves ; they were
not capable of sinning, as wanting a rational nature, and therefore a sinful
nature. A beast was not capable of sin, because not capable of a law, and
therefore its hlood was not due for any sin of its own. Christ had no sin,
none actual; ' no guUe was found in his mouth,' 1 Peter h. 22: nor original ;
that was atopped by his extraordinary conception by the Holy Ghost, which
rendered him immaculate.
VOL. IV. L 1

580 chabnock's woeks. [1 Cob. V. 7.
2. Sacrifices implied this. They had a relation to the offerer, and were
substituted in his place. The substitution of the sacrifice in the place of the
offenders, was always supposed by the heathen ; hence did the offering of
human victims arise, their opinion being that they could not present to God
a nobler creature in their atead than one of their own nature. The notion of
all sacrifices was, that they were in the place of a sinner to appease the
offending* deity, and exempt the guilty person from punishment. And the
actions about the Jewish sacrifices manifested this : the offerer laid his hand
upon the head of the beast, signifying by that ceremony ita consecration to
God, and owning the translation of his guilt upon that creature, and putting
it in his place to undergo the punishment deserved by his sin. Lev. iv. 24-29.
And in thia action of laying on handa, both hands, and with all their strength,
as the Jews tell us, confession of sin was made by the presenter of the sacri
fice, which signified also the disburdening of his guilt upon the head of the
rictim. By those actions was manifested a transferring of ain from the
offender to the sacrifice, and of the death due to the criminal in like manner;
beaidea, the pouring out of the blood, wherein the soul of the beast was sup
posed to be, was destined for the expiation of the sin of the soul of the offerer.
Lev. xvii. 11-14; not that the blood is properly the soul, but because the
vital spirits, which are the instruments of action, and conveying the vfrtue of
the soul to particular members, are seated in the blood.
3. The whole economy of Christ is expresaed in the whole Scripture to
have a relation to us. All things preparatory to his sufferings were for us ;
some were first given to him, before he was given for them : John xvii. 9, he
took flesh for us ; Isa. ix. 6, ' Unto us a child is born ;' for us he had a ' ful
ness of grace ' in his human nature, John i. 16 ; for our aakea he did dedicate
himself, that we might be sanctified, John xvii. 19 ; for us he gave himself,
Gal. ii. 20 ; in the very moment of his sufferings, our iniquities were laid
upon him, that health, by hia atripes, might be derived to us. Christ was a
common person for us, as the acape-goat waa common to the whole congre
gation. Lev. xvi. 21, representing all of them ; Christ was a common person
for us, as Adam was, to whom, in this regard, he is compared: Rom. v. 14,
' Who is,' i. e. Adam, ' the figure of him that was to come.' The apostle
compares one Adam and one Christ ; he iUustrates the condition and the
actions of the one by the condition and actions of the other, what happened
to ua by Adam and what happened to ua by Christ. This typicalness of
Adam cannot be in any other regard than as he was a common person, repre
senting all that were in his loins by natural generation. In this regard Christ
is called ' the aecond man,' 1 Cor. xv. 47 : ' The first man is of the earth
earthly, the second man ia the Lord Irom heaven.' Not that he was the
second man born in tbe world (for many ages were run before hia incarna
tion) but the second common root in the world. As when Adam, being the
first root of mankind in a natural way, fell, the curse came upon him and aU
hia posterity, and the standing punishments pronounced against him did
reach, and were meant of all his poaterity, Gen. iii. 19, not only of Adam
personal, but of Adam as a representative, and so of all those who were not
yet born into the world ; as we sinned in Adam as a common root of natural
generation, so we were all sacrificed in Christ as a common head of all that
are in him by a spiritual union : the one merited death and damnation for all
that descend from him ; the other life and salvation for all that believe in him.
4. Our sins were imputed to bim as to a sacrifice. Christ the just is put
in the place' of the unjust to suffer for them; 1 Pet. iii. 18. Christ is said
to bear sin as a sacrifice beara ain, Isa. liii. 10—12. His soul was made an
* Qu. ' offended '?— Ed.

1 Cob. V. 7.] cheist oue passovee. 531
offering for it ; hut sin was so laid upon the victims, as that it was imputed
to them in a judicial account, according to the ceremonial law, and typically
expiated by them. Christ had not taken away our sins as mediator, had he
not borne the punishment of them ; as a surety, ' He was made sin for us,'
2 Cor. V. 21, and he bare our sins, whioh is evident by the kind of death he
suffered, not only sharp and shameful, but accursed, having a sense of God's
wrath linked to it.
(1.) It cannot be understood of the infection of sin. The filth of our nature
was not transmitted to him. Though he was made sin, yet he was not made
a sinner by any infusion or transplantation of sin into his nature. It was
impossible hia holineas could be defiled with our filth.
(2.) But that our sin was the meritorious cause of his punishment. All
those phrases, that Christ ' died for our sins,' 1 Cor. xv. 3, and was ' deli
vered to death for our offencea,' Rom. iv. 23, clearly import sin to be the
meritorioua cauae of the puniahment Chriat endured. Sin cannot be said to
be the cause of punishment but by way of merit. If Christ had not been
just, he had not been capable of suffering for us ;* had we not been unjust,
we had not merited any suffering for ourselves, much less for another. Our
unrighteousness put us under a necessity of a sacrifice, and his righteousnesa
made him fit to be one. What was the cause of the desert of suffering for
ourselvea was the meritorious cause of the sufferings of the Redeemer after
he put himaelf in our place. The sin of the offerer merited the death of the
sacrifice presented in his atead.
(3.) Our sins were chained upon him in regard of their guilt. Our sins
are so imputed to him, as that they are not imputed to us, 2 Cor. v. 19, and
not imputed to us, because he was made a curse for us, Gal. iu. 13. He
bore our sina, as to the punishment, is granted. If he were an offering for
them, they must in a judicial way be charged upon him. If by being made
sin be understood a sacrifice for sin (which indeed is the true intent of the
word sometimes in Scripture), sin was then legally transferred on the anti
type, as it was on the types in the Jewish service by the ceremony of laying
on of hands, and confessing of sin, after whioh the thing so dedicated became
accursed, and though it was in itaelf innocent, yet it was juridically and sub
stitutive nocent.f In the same manner waa Christ accounted, as on the con
trary believera are peraonally nocent, but by virtue of the aatisfaction of this
sacrifice imputed to them they are judicially counted innocent. Christ, who
never sinned, ia put in auch a state as if he had ; and we, who have always
sinned, are put into such a state by him as if we never had. As we are
made righteous in him, so he was made sin for us. Now, as justifying
righteousness is not inherent in us, but imputed to us, so our condemning
sin was not inherent in Chriat, but imputed to him. There would elae be
no consistency in the antithesis : 2 Cor. v. 21, ' He hath made him to be
sin for us, who knew no sin.' He knew no sin, yet he became sin. It
seems to carry it further than only the bearing the punishment of sin. He
was judiciaUy" charged in our stead with the guilt of sin. Our miquities
were laid upon him, laa. hu. 6. He had spoken, ver. 5, of his bearing the
chastisement of our peace, the punishment of our sin, and then seems to
declare the ground of that, which consisted in God's imputation of sin to him
in laying upon him the iniquities of us all. What iniquities ? Our goings
astray, our tuminga every one to hia own way. He made him to be that
sin which he knew not ; but he knew the punishment of sin ; the knowledge
of that was the end of his coming. He came to lay down hia life a ransom
for many. He knew not sin by an experimental inherency, hut he knew it
* Ball on the Covenant, p. 278. t Turretin.

582 chabnock's wobks. [1 Cob. Y. 7.
by judicial imputation. He knew it not in regard of the spots, but he knew
it in regard of the guilt following upon the judgment of God. He was
righteous in his person, but not judicially or juridically pronounced righteous
aa our aurety till after his sacrifice, when he was ' taken from prison and from
judgment,' Isa. liu. 8. Till he had paid the debt, he was accounted aa a
debtor ts God.
[I.J The apostle distinguisheth his second coming from his first by this :
Heb. ix. S8, ' He shall appear tbe second time without sin unto salvation.'
It is net meant of the filth of sin, for so he appeared at firat without sin, but
without the guilt of sin which be had at his 'first coming derived, or taken
upon himself to satisfy for, and remove from the sinner. He shall appear
without sin to be imputed, without punishment to be inflicted. At the time
of hia first coming, he appeared with sin, with sin charged upon him, as our
surety arrested for our criminal debts. He pawned hia life far the livea which
we had forfeited, and sirfered the penalty due by law, that we might have a
deliverance free by graoe. In his first coming,"he repreaented our persons as
an undertaker for us '; our sins were therefore laid upon him.. In his second
coming, he represents God as a vicegerent, and so no sin can be charged upon
him. [2.] He cannot wiell he supposed to suffer for our sins, if our sina in re
gard of their guilt be not supposed to be charged upon him. How could he
die, if he were not a reputed sinner ? Had he not first had a relation to
our sin, he could not in justice have undergone our punishment. He must
in the order of justice be -supposed a sinner really, or by imputation ; really
he was not, by imputation then he was. How can we conceive he should
be made a curse for ua, if that which ,made ua accursed had not been first
charged upon him ? It is aa much againat divine justice to inflict punish
ment where there is no sin, as it is to spare an offender who hath committed
a crime, or to clear the guilty, which by mo means God will do, Exod.
xxxiv. 7. The consideration of a crime precedes the sentence, either upon
an offender or his surety. We cannot conceive how divine justice should
inflict the punishment, had it not first considered him under guilt. Though
the first designation of the Redeemer to a suretyship or sacrifice for us was
an act of God'a aovereignty, yet the inflicting punishment after that designa
tion, and our Saviour's acceptation of it, was an act of God's justice, and so
declared to be : Rom. iii. 26, ' todeclare his righteousness, that he might be
just,' that he might declare his justice in justification, his justice to his law.
Can thia highest declaration of justice he founded upon an unjuat act ? Had
that been justice or injustice to Christ, to lay hia wrath upon the Son of his
love, one whose person waa alwaya dear to him, always pleased him ; had
he not stood as a ainner juridically in our stead, and suffered that sin, which
was the^ruin of mankind, to be cast with all the weight of it, upon his in
nocent shoulders ? After by his own act he had engaged for our debt, God
in justice might demand of him every farthing, which, without that under
taking, and putting himself in our stead, could not be done ; which sub
mission of his, and compliance vrith it, is expressed twice, Isa. hii. 7, hy
his not opening his mouth ; and no wrong is done to a voluntary undertaker.
Add this too. It ia from his standing in our stead a^ guilty that the benefit
of his death doth redound to us'. Hia death had had no relation to ua, had
not our sin been juridically adjudged to be his ; nor can we challenge an
acquittance at the handa of God for our debts, if they were not our debts
that he paid on the croaa. ' He was wounded for our transgressions, he was
bruised for our iniquities,' Isa. liii. 5. The laying hands upon the head of"
the sin-offering was necessary to make it a sacrifice for the offender, without

1 Cob. V. 7.] chbist oue passovee. 533
which ceremony it might have been a slain but not a sacrificed beast. The
transferring our iniquities upon him muat in some way precede hia being
bruiaed for them, which could not be any other way than by imputation,
whereby he was conatitutfed by God a debtor in our stead, to bear the pun
ishment of our sin. He being made ain for us, our sin was in a sort made
hia ; he was made sin without sin, he knew the guilt without knowing the
filth, he felt the puniahment without being touched with the pollution. Since
death was the wages of sin, and passed aa a penalty for a violated law, Rom.
yi. 23, it could not righteoualy be inflicted on him had not sin first been
imputed to him. In hia own person, be was in the arms of his Father's
love ; as he represented our sinful persons, he felt the strokes of his Father's
wrath. 5. Tbe sufferings of this sacrifice are impaled unto us. He took our
sina upon himaelf, as if he had sinned, and gave ua the benefit of hia Buffer
ings, aa if we had actually auffered and satisfied.* He ' offered one sacrifice
for sin for ever,' Heb. x. 12, i. e. ' to take away sin,' if you compare it
with ver. 11 ; to remove the wrath due to us by reason of iniquity waa the
end he aimed at. Aa our sins were imputed to him for punishment, so his
sufferings are imputed to us for acceptation : Eph. i. 6, 7, ' Who hath made
us accepted in the beloved, in whom we have redemption through his blood.'
Christ had the relation of an undertaker for us, and we the relation of
debtors to God. Our debts then being charged upon him, his payment
must be imputed to us ; the surety and the principal are legally regarded as
one peraon, so are the repreaentative and the persons represented by him.
Aa Adam and all mankind were aa one person, and aa all Israel were called
Jacob from the common root of them, so Chriat and believers are as one
person, and what he did, is as if a behever himself did it, aa the suffering
of the sacrifice was accepted in lieu of the life of the sinner. By the stripes
of our sacrifice we are healed, laa. liii. 5, an exehange is made, stripes to
him, health to ua ; he waa made a curse that we might be freed from the
curse, Gal. iii. 13. The firat thing rising upon faith from the sufferings of
Christ is a non-imputation of sin : 2 Cor. v. 21, ' Not imputing their tres
passes unto them.' They are not imputed to a believer, because borne by the
undertaker for him. The main end of his death as a sacrifice was to com
municate a righteousness to us : Gal. ii. 21, ' If righteousneas come by the
law, then Christ is dead in vain.' If this were the main or only thing that
would make the death of Christ a mere vanity, then the great and main end
of hia death was to procure a complete righteousness for us, a righteousness
whereby he was to he glorified, a righteousneas whereby we might be justi
fied ; his sufferings procured it, his resurrection endured it, Rom. iv. 25.
All the world stands guUty before God, cannot present God with a righteous
ness of their own commensi^ate to the law ; not one act any man can do
can bear proportion to it, all strength to do anything suitable to it was lost
in Adam. Since no righteousness of our own can justify, it must be the'
righteousnesa of the Son of God which must be imputed to ua, in the aame
manner our sins were imputed to him. As it ia accepted by God for us, ao
it is accounted by God to us : 2 Cor. v. 21, ' He hath made him to be sin
for us, who knew no sin, that we might be made the righteousness of God
in him.' Sin was in us, but charged upon Christ ; righteousnesa is in Christ
and imputed to ua ; therefore the apostle adds him, to signify that' it is not
our own righteousnesa, but another'a, not inherent in ua, but imputed to us.
The redounding of these sufferfrigs to us ariseth,
1. From the dignity ofthe person undertaking to be a sacrifice for us,
* Turretin.

534 chabnock's woeks. [1 Cob. V. 7.
and the union of our nature with his. He assumed our nature that he
might be a common person, and stand in our atead ; he had not been a fit
representative of ns without it. But the main consideration is, ' the fulness
of the Gbdhead dwelling in him bodily,' Col. ii. 9, and his being the man
God's fellow, Zech. xiii. 7, whereby what he did and auffered in our stead
became, according to the value of the peraon performing it, infinitely meri
torioua for those for whom he suffered, being infinitely more than all the
obedience of men and angels, and more meritorious of happiness than sin
could be of misery. As infinite sin deserves an infinite punishment, because
it receives its aggravation from the dignity of the person against whom it ia
committed, so the sufferings of Chriat, though finite in regard of hia human
nature, received an infinite value from the infiniteneas of his person, equi
valent to the debts of all that come to him. Sin is finite in regard of the
subject, infinite in regard of the great God against whom it ia. The auffer
inga of Christ are infinite in regard of the subject, and infinitely please the
governor of the world, unto whom the offering is made, and therefbre are of
more force to convey a righteousness and beauty to the creature, than ain is
to convey guilt and filth. Though ain abounded, grace did much more
abound, Rom. 5.
2. From union with thia infinite person by faith. All believers have a
communion with him in hia death : 2 Cor. v. 14, ' If one died for all, then
were all dead.' AlWere accounted aa dying, and bearing the wrath of God,
by God'a reckoning that death to them. As the ain of Adam is imputed to
all hia natural posterity, as being one with him in his loins, so are the suffer
ings of Christ imputed to all his spiritual aeed, Rom. v. 18, aa being one
with him in a real union. Hence we are aaid to be ' crucified with Christ,'
Rom. vi. 6, and ' riaen with him,' Eph. ii. 6, aa in the peraon representing
ns, as if the same wrath endured by Christ had been endured by us, and
the same acquittance given to Christ had been given to us by God together
with him ; for all hia meritorious passions were endured by him in the name
of his elect, and for their use, and are fully belonging in the fruit and benefit
of them to every believer. What Christ as a mediator did personally do,
redounds in the benefit of it to Christ mystical, and is reckoned to every
member of hia body ; we are made, we, and every one of us that believe,
are made the righteousness of God in bim. Well then, Christ bearing our
iniquitiea ia the cauae of our justification : Isa. liii. 11, ' By hia knowledge
shall my righteous servant justify many, for he shall bear their iniquities.'
If our sin had not been imputed to him, his righteouaness could not be ac
counted to ua ; the commutation is clear, he first bears our iniquities that
we might partake of his righteousness.
Use. If Christ be a sacrifice,
1. We may see the miserable bhndness of the Jewa in expecting the
Messiah as a temporal conqueror. The Jews wait for such a one to this
day. Though the promiaea represent spiritual deliverances under temporal
grandeurs, not to raiae carnal hopea but apiritual apprehensions, yet are
there not multitudes of places which speak of sufferings, misery, death ? Is
not hia heel to be bruised, hia garmenta to be parted, a restoration to be
made by him of what he took not away ? Are not the aacrifices of the law
to be perfected, his soul to be made an offering for sin, wounds made for
transgression, his hands and his feet to be pierced ? It was not by the
slaying the bodies of men that he is to ' make reconciliation for the iniquities '
of men, Dan. ix. 24. How can he be a conqueror of kingdoms who is to be
cut off, and the city where he was to be destroyed aa with a fiood, and the
desolations of it to be determined ? ver. 25, 013, penally cut off, as it signi-

1 Coe. Y. 7.] cheist oub passovee. 535
fies. Lev. xvii. 4, as one was out off that had no aacrifice allowed for him.*
The right apprehensions of the promises concerning the Messiah in the Old
Testahient, what he waa to be, what he was to do, cannot let you be ignorant
of him in the New. How do thoae poor people overturn at once the whole
design of that divine law they seem to reverence in the highest degree !
What blindness will seize upon the hearta of men, even under the oraclea of
God, if the Spirit of God doth not vouchsafe to enlighten them !
2. If Christ be a sacrifice, it shews the necessity of a aatisfaction to the
justice of God, and a higher satisfaction than men could perform. Blood
muat satisfy juatice, and no blood but that of the Son of God could be a
sufficient and valuable propitiation. If mere mercy could or would have
pardoned, it might have done it -with or vrithout the blood of the poor
creatures mangled under the law. But, alaa ! neither the blood of those,
nor the blood of a rational creature, eould take away sin. Less than death
justice could not demand ; death was aettled by the immediate order of God
as the penalty of the law. The law, then, after transgression, could not be
vindicated in its honour without death. A God of infinite goodnesa delights
not in the ahedding the blood of his creatures, nor oan we suppose him to be
pleased with the effusion of the blood of animals. The institution of the
legal sacrificea could not be exemplary to man. What virtue could the
pangs of a dying beast represent to him ? No other enda can be imagined
but an acknowledgment of guilt, the deaert of sin, tbe debt of death, the
necessity of a higher satisfaction, and the raising them up to a faith in the
promiae of God, that another valuable sacrifice should be put in the room
of the sinner, to take away that sin, which the blood of beasts and tbe etemal
groana of men were not able to remove.
3. Christ, as sacrificed, is the true and immediate object of faith. We
are revolted from God, and are made uncapable of performing the terms of
the first covenant. The precepta of the law are too holy for our corrupt
nature, the penaltiea of the law too grievous to be borne by our feeble nature ;
a remedy must be looked after. When the venom of sin begins to work in
the conscience, and the thunder of the law alarms it to judgment, and the
punishment due to sin is presented in the horrors of it, the question imme
diately is, Whether there be any remedy, and where ? How forgiveness of
sin is to be attained ? The only remedy is proposed' in Christ, and Christ
as a sacrifice. It ia not Christ risen, or ascended, or exalted ; not Christ
only as the Son of God, or the head of angels ; not Christ aa the creator of
the world, or by whom all things consist ; but Christ as answering the terms
of the first covenant, aa disarming juatice : and thia he did aa a aacrifice.
By this he bore the curse, by thia he broke down the partition wall, by this
he joined apostate man and an offended God. Thia is that true faith pitcheth
on, daily revolves, and daily applies to. This is the first object of the soul,
Christ made sin, Christ bearing the punishment, Christ substituted in the
room of the offender. His resurrection and ascension come in afterward to
ascertain the comfort. But as his being a sacrifice is the foundation of his
being an advocate, a prince, a Saviour, to give repentance and remission of
sins, so it is the foundation of peace in ouraelves. This ia that which pacifies
God, and only what pacifiea God can pacify conscience. Thia death aa a
sacrifice purchased our comfort, because it purchased the comforter. Christ
begged not the Spirit before he died, John xvi. 7 ; he assures them he could
not come, unless himself went ; and he could not have gone with any suc
cess to heaven, if he had not shed his blood ; justice would have stopped
his entrance : Luke xxiv. 26, ' Ought not Christ to have suffered those
* Owen.

536 chabnock's wobks. [1 Coe. Y. 7s.
things, and to enter into his glory ?' Suffering vvas to precede his glory.
Besides, our comfort lies in his being an advocate. But how is he an advo
cate ? With his blood in his hands. It ia by his blood he speaks in heaven,
and by his blood faith speaks to God. He paid the debt in hia auffering,
and pleada the payment in his glory. The payment went before tbe plea in
order of nature, and our eyeing the payment precedes our eyeing the plea in
order of faith. Both respect God as the rector. Christ, without his gar
ments rolled in blood, could not be answerable to God, nor acceptable to a
sinner. Faith is therefore called ' faith in his blood,' Rom. iii. 25. As
faith is the instrument of justification, so it must eye the cause of our jus
tification, and under that notion wherein it is the cause ; and that ia Christ
as groaning and offering up himself to God a ransom, a righteousness for
many. The curse npon Adam is the lash wherewith an angry conscience
scourgeth a sinner. The freedom from this curse is only found in the ven
geance God exacted of the Redeemer for the sins of all that return to him
by repentance. Both the death and resurrection of Christ concur to the
same end, viz., our justification, Rom. xiv. 9, but in different manners; his
death as the meritorious cause, his resurrection as declarative of the suffi
ciency of hia death to that end, that as the Son of God and surety of men,
he had performed whatsoever he undertook in hia being a sacrifice. But
the first act of relying faith is about him as a bloody victim. As often as
the Israelites were stung by the fiery serpents, they were to look up for
health to the serpent lifted up, a type and emblem of the death of Christ.
Upon every sin of a believer, the sacrifice is pleaded in heaven by the priest,
and ought, in the remembrance of it, to be renewed in the repeated acts of
om- faith.
4. It ia no true opinion that Christ died only for an example. Wounded
he was for the transgressions in Isaiah's time, when his example could reach
only those that came after him ; but the credit of hia sufferings upon his
promise to undergo them, might and did reach to the first ages of the world.
The expressions in Isa. liii. sound his death higher than a bare pattern, or
a testimony to the truth. The notion of expiation of sin was always implied
in the notion of a sacrifice, even among the heathens. When they parted
with the dearest first-born of their bodies to Moloch, it was not for an ex
ample,, but for the sin of the soul, Micah vi. 6. As Christ was the Son of
God sent, he was a testimony of the love of God ; as he was a sacrifice, he
was our ransom from the curse of the law.
5. Comfort to every true believer. He was sacrificed /or ms ,- God counted
him a sinner for our aakes, that he might count ua righteous for his sake.
(1.) As Christ hath been sacrificed for them, so he has been accepted for
them. He is no more to be made sin, iniquity no more to be charged upon
him ; his next appearance shall be without the imputation of sin, for the
conferring salvation, Heb. ix. 28, with all the bonds of a behever's sins
canceUed. He is pronounced God's righteous servant, and from this de
claration of his righteousness, and the true and believing knowledge of it,
doth our justification arise, Isa. liu. 11. Had it not been a perfect sacrifice,
it could never have wrought such complete effects, and ' for ever have per
fected those that are sanctified,' Heb. x. 14. He is gone with the smoke
of hia sacrifice to heaven, and was well entertained, which is a signification
of the completeness and perfection of his righteousness for man, John xvi.
9, 10. The pure and piercing eye of divine justice could not perceive a spot
in him. Had any blemish been, it could not have escaped an infinite know
ledge. Nor could the justice of God, in turning over all the registers of the
debts owing from the creatures, perceive one but might be cancelled upon

1 Cob. V. 7.] cheist oub passovee. 537
the value of this' payment, if the creature did not negligently or wilfully re
fuse his own delivery, and prefer his debts and captivity before it. It was
a sacrifice offered according to God's heart, with which his soul was infinitely
well pleased. The person of the Son of God made every gaping wound,
every panting groan, and doleful agony, -grateful to God, and profitable for
us. The Godhead united to the manhood put an unexpressible value upon
every pang. Not that every pang, or the least drop of blood, was sufficient
for our redemption (the law required death, and death must be suffered) ;
but all those passions preceding his death were meritorious in conjunction
with his death.
(2.) Thia sacrifice unitea aU the attributes of God together for a believer's
intereat. The flood-gates of mercy are opened, and the fire of justice con
fined in its flames. The flames of the one centre in Christ, that the streams
of the other might flow down to ua ; rivers of mercy quench not the flamea
of justice, nor the flamea of justice suck up the rivera of mercy. As the
sacrificing Christ. ia a vengeance against ain, it ia an act of justice ; as it is
a means of remission of the sina of those for whom he waa aacrificed, it is
an act of mercy to the creature. Both juatice and mercy join hands to help
the faUen creature up. God is just in being merciful, and merciful in being
just ; so that we may well cry aloud with the psalmist, Ps. cxvi. 5, ' Gra
cious is the Lord, and righteous.' Justice struck the sacrifice, that tbe
streams of mercy might have a fuller scope. Compassion helped justice to
a satisfaction more honourable than could have been had from creatures ;
and justice helped mercy to a fuller and more illustrious exercise of itself
than ever it could have had without it. Justice is now a second to mercy,
of an antagonist it is become an advocate. God must be unjust, if he he
not merciful to a believer. Since our high priest hath been faithful to God,
God will not be unfaithful to him, or those for whom he offered up himself
Happy must he be that hath mercy supplicating, and justice itself pleading
for him.
(3.) This sacrifice ia of eternal virtue. The rirtue of the sacrifice is
parallel, to the office, of his priesthood ; a priest and a sacrifice are relatives.
The immutable .etttb, then, that constituted him a priest for ever, aettlea for
ever the valu6 and virtue of the sacrifice ; for without a sacrifice he could
not be a priest ; his office would expire if the virtue of hia aacrifice did ; they
eternally live together in conjunction. It is ' the blood of an everlasting
covenant,' Heb. xiii. 20. It is an everlasting covenant, because an ever
lasting blood whereby it was settled. The ground of its prevalency is, that
it was not the sacrifice of a mere man, but of God, Heb. ix. 14.
(4.) The effects of this sacrifice therefore are perfect, glorious, and eternal.
It is our deliverance from wrath, the scorchings of hell, and terrors of
punishment. The purity of thia sacrifice expiates the impurities of our ser
vices. No sin so great but the value of this sacrifice, believed in, can answer
it. The highest sin is the transgression of the law, and this ia the satisfac
tion of the whole penalty of the law. Sin is an offence against God, and
thia sacrifice ia the highest pleasure to him. None of our sins pan be so
great as those that met upon the back of this innocent lamb. It is enough
to cross every book of accounts ; ' Who shall lay anything to the charge of
God's elect ? It is God that juatifieth,' and ' Chriat that died,' Rom. viu.
88, 34. ' There is no condemnation to them that are in Christ,' because he
hath as a sacrifice ' for sin condemned sin in the flesh,' Rom. viu. 1-3. Not,
no desert of condemnation, that there is ; not, no condepination becauae of
something clone by themaelvea; no, but because of something done by Christ,
who hath obliterated the bloody roU of sin and curses by his blood. God

538 chabnock's wobks. [1 Cob. Y. 7.
will not refuse it to any that believingly plead it ; he will not be unjust to
the true value of it, nor to his own ordination. If it be unrighteous in God
to ' forget the labour of a believer's love,' Heb. -vi. 10, it will be so to forget
the obedience of his Son, and the person interested in it. God was not so
ready to braise him for us, but he will be as ready to apply the plaster of
hia blood to ua.
How great, then, ia the happineaa of a believer on the account of this
aacrifice ! Whatsoever is lost by the sin of the first Adam, is gained by the
sacrifice of the second ; with what boldness may we enter into the hohest
with this blood of Jesus in our hands and hearts, Heb. x. 19.
6. We must then lay hold on this sacrifice. The people were to be'
sprinkled with the blood of the sacrifice, Exod. xxiv. 8, so must we with the
blood of our Lamb. Thus only can it save us, 1 Peter i. 2. Thus is our
Saviour described by this part of his office : Isa. hi. 15, ' He shall sprinkle
many nations.' Our guilt cannot look upon a consuming fire without a pro
pitiatory sacrifice ; our services are blemished, so that they will rather pro
voke his justice than merit his mercy ; we must have something to put a
stop to a just fury, expiate an infinite guilt, and perfume our unsavoury ser
vices. Here it is in Christ, but there must be faith in us. Faith is as
necessary by the ordination of God in a way of instrumentality, as the grace
of God in a way of efficiency, and the blood of Christ in a way of meritori
ousness of our justification. All must concur, the will of God the offended
governor, the will of the sacrificing mediator, and the will of the offender.
This will must be a real will, an active operative will, not a faint velleity.
We must have a faith to justify our persons, and we must have an active
sincerity to justify the reality of our faith. Christ was real in his sacrifice,
God was real in the acceptation of it, we must be real in believing it. Rocks
and mountains cannot secure them that neglect so great a sacrifice, that re
gard this atoning blood as an unholy thing. It is as dreadful for men to have
this sacrifice smoking against them, and this blood calling for vengeance on
them, as it is comfortable to have it pleaded for them and sprinkled on them.
Why will any then despise and neglect a necessary sovereign remedy ready
at hand ? Is it excusable, that when we should have brought the sacrifice
ourselves, or ourselves have been the sacrifice, we should slight him who hath
voluntarily been a aacrifice for us, and cherish a bell merited by our sin,
rather than accept of a righteousness purchased at no less rate than the blood
of God ? This sacrifice is full of all necessai-y vfrtue to save us, but the
blood ofit must be sprinkled upon our soula by faith. Without this we shall
remain in our sins, nnder the wrath of God and sword of vengeance.
7. We must be enemiea to ain, since Christ was a sacrifice for it. Unless
ain die in us, we cannot have an evidence that this aacrifice was alain for us.
He that hath an interest in Christ's blood must be planted ' into the likeness
ofhis death,' Rom. vi. 5. We are highly unjust, if we will not sacrifice a
beloved sin for him, who sacrificed a precious life, of more value than heaven
and earth, for us. We should empty ourselves of our filth, since he emptied
himself of his glory. The very expression, sacrificed for us, carries a force
and a spirit in it to animate us to this. We must be friends to the duties
' God enjoins us. It ia disingenuity to put him off with a shred of our soula,
or a grain cf aervice, who became a holocaust for ua. Scanty aervices are
fit only for a scanty sacrifice. As God shews in this sacrifice his compas
sions to the sinner, so he declares the certainty and terror of his penahies
upon the obstinate rebel. If the Son of God, undertaking to be a sacrifice,
was not preserved from death upon the account of his fihation, men cannot
expect but to sink under it upon the account of their rebellion. WeU, then,

1 Coe. V. 7.] cheist oue passovee. 589
let us not look upon the leaat sin without horror, since it is a crime not to
be expiated by any lower price than an infinite blood. It should cause us
to mourn also for sin. It was our unrighteousness made Christ's back and
his soul to suffer ; he had never felt the wrath of his Father, if we had not
broke the law of his Father. ' When the death of Christ, our sacrifice, comes
into our thoughts, the remembrance of our sins should bear it company.
We should never consider that Christ died, but we should join also with
sorrow the consideration of that for which he died.

A DISCOURSE OF THE YOLUNTARINESS OF
CHRIST'S DEATH.

And walk in love, as Christ also has loved us, and has given himself for us, an
offering and a sacrifice to God of a sweet-smelling savour. — Eph. Y. 2.
The exhortation in this verse to a mutual love, depends upon what the
apostle had urged in the end of the former chapter, where he had endeavoured
to persuade them to a kindneaa and tender-heartedness to one another, and
backed it by the pattern God had set them in his pardoning grace ; and in
ver. 1 of this chapter, he extends that motive to all other dutiea, and draws
a general maxim for their observance ; that they ought to imitate God in all
things imitable by a creature : ver. 1, ' Be ye therefore followers of God as
dear children.' Consider the great example God hath set you, and as you
have obligations to him, not only as your God, but your Father ; so imitate
him, not only as creaturea, but as children, and express in your lives those
admirable perfections which he hath engraven on you by regeneration, and
especially his patience and meekneaa in bearing, and bis love and kindness
in pardoning, those that injure you.
Doctrine. Those that lay claim to a relation to God, without imitation
of him, are not chUdren, but bastards. They may be of his family by
inatruction, not by descent. There is no implantation in Christ, without an
imitation both of the Creator and Redeemer.
He doth prosecute the exhortation in this verse. ' Walk in love,' let the
perpetual tenor of your lives be in love ;, and that by the example of Christ,
as before he had done it by the example of God, which indeed Christ had
in person urged to his disciples before his departure from them : John xiii.
14, 15, ' I have given you an example, that you should do as I have done
to you ;' and amplifies this example of the love of Christ,
1. From the effect: his passion.
2. The manner of it : voluntary, has given.
8. The subject of it : himself.
4. The end of it : a sacrifice.
5. The event and fruit of it : a sweet-smelling savour, e/'s oaf^riv htaSlag.
A fragrant odour, which by a metalepsis ia put for the appeasing God, it
having a wonderful force to appease the wrath of God, which was inflamed
against ua. The most generous example to imitate, is the person of our

Eph. Y. 2.] the voluntabiness of cheist's death. 541
Saviour ; the most efficacious motive to persuade to that imitation, is the
sacrifice of our Saviour ; the course of our livea ought to be in love, not only
an act, a spurt, but a walk. ' Aa Christ hath loved us.' An as of simili
tude, not of equality ; we cannot equal the stature of Christ's affections, but
we may draw in our life lineaments like to his.
The latter worda are the subject of thia discourse. Loved us. Thia is
the first spring of all the actiona of Christ towarda us, and the passion of
Christ for us ; there could be no other motive as it respected ua. Our
misery might excite his pity, but his affection produced his passion ; he
loved us as God, in common with his Father ; he loved us aa man, by a
participation of onr nature. In this love, there is his divine will as a priest,
his human will as a sacrifice ;* he pitied ua while we were insensibly hurried
down hy the devil to a gulf of perdition : lovo was the only impulse, love
excited him, love prepared him, love sent him, love offered him ; tbe highest
assurance of his love waa the loss of hia life, the excellency of the fruit
shewa the goodness of the tree.
Has given himself. He was given by God, yet he offered himself, Xla^s-
hoTKiv ; there was a joint consent : ' The Son can do nothing of himself, but
what he sees the Father do,' John v. 19. It is spoken after the manner of
men, as sons learn of their fathers, and imitate them in their actions.
Christ's giving himself, implies the Father's giving him.
Himself. He waa both the priest and the sacrifice ; he offered not gold
or silver, or a whole world, but himself, more precious than milhons of
worlds, composed only of angels and innumerable spirits, as excellent as the
omnipotency of God could create.
Himself. Not only his body of flesh, not only his soul or Spirit, but
himself, his whole person. Hia aoul, hia body, himself tbe Son of God,
and the Son of man ; f he loved us aa he loved himself, above what he loved
himself, shall I say ? He exposed his life for us, his most holy person for
us ; the act of hia murderers is not regarded as a sweet-smeUing savour, but
his own act of obedience.
To whom did he thua give himself? To God. To that God, whom by
our baae apostasy we had rendered ouraelvea obnoxious, and had faUen
under hia deserved wrath. Our Saviour was God's before, as he was the
Son of God, but he delivers himself to God,J: as a mediator, a victim to
satisfy for our sins, and reconcile us to our injured Creator; he offered him
self to God, as the judge and revenger of sin, the guardian of the law, the
asserter of his truth in his threatening ; he appeared before God as sitting
upon a seat of justice, that he might open to us a throne of grace.
To what end did he deliver himself? An offering and a sacrifice. Not
like an offering or lilee a sacrifice, § but an offering, a aacrifice ; not to do ua
a small kindness, but to offer his life for us ; he would die in our stead, that
we might live by his death ; not only an offering, but a sacrifice, an incense
to be consumed into smoke, a sacrifice to be stuck and bled to death ; all
the offerings and sacrifices of the law were completed in Christ. All hia life
wherein he acted for the glory of God was an offering ;|| in his death, he
bled and expired as a sacrifice ; he underwent a death, not honourable, but
ignominious, and not only ignominious among men, but joined with the
legal curae of God.^ Aa he was the Son of God, he gave himaelf, having
power to do it, John x. 18. Unlesa he had been the Son of God, he could
never have been a sufficient sacrifice for us.
For a sweet-smelling savour. He gave himself with an intention to be ac-
* Cocceius. * Musculus. II Zanchius in loo.
t Zanchius". I As Crellius iu loc. 1[ Bodius in loc.

542 chabnock's woeks. [Eph. V. 2.
cepted, and God received him with a choice acceptation. Sacrifices under
the law were accounted by God aa a sweet savour. Lev. i. 9, iii. 16,
Exod. xxix. 41. This expreaaion ia first mentioned at the time of the
sacrifice of Noah, Gen. vUi. 21, so God is said to smell an offering,
1 Sam. xxvi. 19. God accepted Noah's sacrifice, and took an occasion from
thence of declaring his counsel to Noah, that he would not destroy the
world, implying, that he would in time recoyer it by the promiaed aeed.
A smell is here attributed to God by an ' AvS^eoirovaSela. As good scents
recreate and refresh the senae of a man, so did the sacrifice of Christ please
and content God. Our sins had sent up an ill savour to heaven, had dis
turbed the rest of God. Christ expels our Ul scent by the perfume of his
blood, and restores a sweet savour in the heavenly placea : Heb. ix. 23,
' purifying the heavenly thinga ' himself God being a pure Spirit, could
not be taken with tbe smoke of the legal lambs, nor refreshed with the
fumes of incenae ; but both God and believers under the Old Testament had
a content in them, as they were shadows of this sweet sacrifice which was
intended for the appeasing God, and securing the offending creature. What
the legal sacrifices could not perform, as being earthy, mean, and too low
for the acceptation of God, and delighted him no otherwise than as they
referred to Christ, that this sweet sacrifice of the unblemished Lamb of God,
possessed with a perfect love both to God's glory and man's safety, per
formed, and sent up such a fragrancy to the nostrils of God, that he approved
both of the priest and the sacrifice, infinitely above the best sacrificers and
sacrificea nnder the law, and changed hia countenance towards the filthy
creature that had raised such noisome steama in his preaence.
The things observable are many.
1. The love of Christ waa the spring of his passion.
2. The peraon of Christ waa consecrated for us, and given to ua.
But the only things I shall take notice of are,
1. Christ was a voluntary sacrifice.
2. Christ was an efficacious sacrifice.
Doct. 1. The aacrifice and sufferings of Christ for ua were free and volun
tary. Hia offering waa a free-wiU offering. It ia expreased in the same
chapter, Eph. v. 25, ' He gave himaelf for the church.' Hia voluntariness
was typified by the paschal lamb, a lamb being the mildest of all creatures,
resisting neither the shearers nor butchers, Isa. liii. 7. All hia work is
asaigned to hia love. Rev. i. 5, 6. His love was antecedent to his ahedding
his blood, and our being washed in it. Love rendera any work dehghtful.
The Sun of righteouaness hath not a leas bridegroom spirit and cheerful
diaposition in running his humble race, than a sun in the heavens is
expressed to have by the paaimiat, in running his natural race in the heavens,
Ps. xix. 5. He was not made poor by force, but became so, and laid aside
hia own richea for our aakes, 2 Cor. vni. 9. He became destitute of the
advantages other men enjoy,-* that from hia worldly poverty we might be
come rich in spiritual gracea. He was not emptied of bis glory by another,
but made himself of no reputation ; he took upon him the form of a aervant,
it was not imposed upon him by constraint ; he was not debased by others,
till he had humbled himself to the lowest degree of humility. He could
have resisted them when they hfted him up upoh the cross, but he would be
obedient to the determination of hia Father to the laat gasp, Philip, ii. 7, 8.
The hiding the majeaty of God under ' the form of a servant,' his descent not
only to the earth, the lowest dregs of the world, the footstool of the divinity,
but to the most abject and forlorn condition fri that earth; his taking the
* Amyraut in loc.

Eph. V. 2.] the voluntabiness op chbisi'b death. 543
similitude of weak flesh, and running through all the degrees of reproaches
and puniahment, even to the grave itself, were voluntary acts, the workings
of his love, that he might rescue us from a deserved hell, to advance ua to
an undeaerved heaven, and make ua partakers of that bleaaedness hehad
voluntarily quitted for our aakes. He -willingly put himself into the condi
tion of a servant, which is to be at the beck of another, and have no will
but that of his master's.' He submitted his reason and affections to God, to
be employed in his yvork according to his will. He had an absolute power
over his own body, John x. 18, yet he made a free offer of it, and subjected it
to the penalty to be inflicted on him. One place more: John xvii. 19, ' For
their sakes I sanctify myself;' it cannot be meant of hia conaecration to his
office of prieathood, that depended upon the call of hia Father ; he was consti
tuted a priest, not by his own intrusion, but the Father's election, settled by
an oath. The Father, and not himself, glorified him in this regard, Heb. v.
4, 5. Nor of his habitual and inward holiness, for so he was sanctified by
the Spirit in hia conception, and filled with all gracea, Luke i. 35, John
iii. 84. But it is meant of his offering himself a sacrifice. His Father made
him a prieat, the Spirit made his human nature fit to be a sacrifice, his own
will made him an actual offering.
In the handling this doctrine, I shall do these four things :
I. Lay down some propositions for explaining thisi
II. The evidences of thia voluntariness.
III. The necessity of it.
IY. The use.
I. Tropositions for explaining it.
1. The Father's appointing himxto be a sacrifice, doth not impair his own
wiUingness in undertaking. The Father is said to send him and deliver him,
John iii. 84, Rom. vui. 82 ; not that the Son was over-persuaded, or came
only out of obedience, without any inclination of his own. The Father being
the root and fountain of the deity, all actions are originally ascribed to him,
though common to all ; so he ia firat in order of being, as he is first in order
of working. The Father is said to dehver him, because the first motion of
redemption is supposed to arise from the will and motion of the Father ;
yet the love of Christ was the spring of all mediatory actions, and his taking
lOur nature on him ; and therefore he is no less said to give himself, than
the Father is said to give him to us and for us. God is said to set him
forth, Rom. iii. 25 ; yet he is aaid to come. Mat. xx. 28, not thrust out or
forced to come. God lays our sins upon him, yet Christ is said to bear
them. Hia engagement waa an act of choice, liberty, and affection. He
could not be constrained by his Father to undertake it ; his will waa aa free
in conaenting, aa hia Father waa in propoaing. The Spirit is said to be sent
by the Father and the Son, to take of Christ's and shew it to us, to fit those
for heaven that are given to Christ ; yet his distributions are according to
his own win : 1 Cor. xii. 11, ' Dividing to every man according as he wUL'
If you conaider Christ as one God with the Father, there is but one and
the same wiU in both.* Will belongs to essence or nature ; the easence of
God being one, there are not in God divers wills, though the Godhead be in
divera persona, because the power of wiUing is the nature, not a personal
propriety. The decree of redemption was joint in Father and Son. What
Christ decreed as God, he executed as man ; and what he wUled from eter
nity, he began in time to wiU as man.f Chriat, as God, gave himaelf to
death with the same wiU and' by the aame action as the Father gave him ;
¦ * Hooker's Polity, John x, 3 ' I and my Father are one.'
t Bodius in Eph. v. 2.

544 chabnock's woeks. [Eph. Y. 2.
but as man he gave himself by a will inspired by the Father.* Yet for our
conception's sake the Scripture represents things so as if they were distinct
wiUs, which yet we must not imagine, any more than because the Scripture,
in condescension to our weakness, represents God with eyes, and ears, and
hands, we must conceive God to have a fleshly body like ours.
2. The necessity of his death impeacbeth not the voluntariness pf it.
Many thinga are voluntary which yet are necesaary ; there are voluntary
necessities. God is necessarily yet voluntarily holy ; the devils are neces
sarily yet voluntarily evil, it is not in their power to become good, yet they
are carried to evil with a complete will. Man desires to be happy by a
natural, and therefore necessary, inclination, yet willingly and without con
straint. This death was necessary, by a determination of God ; voluntary,
by a cheerful submission of Christ. The election of the good angels ren
dered their standing necesaary, but the adherence of their wills to God made
their standing alao voluntary. Grace did not force them againat their wiU,
nor God'a determination of Christ render him a aacrifice againat his mind.
(1.) It waa voluntary in the foundation. The decree was not necessary,
but an act of divine liberty. Nothing can incline God to an act of grace but
his own most holy will. Christ being at liberty whether he would espouse
our interest or no, his undertaking to manage it was a pure voluntary act,
arising from hia own will. He waa not bound to become a creature, and
take upon him the form of a servant, but his entering into that condition
was an act of free choice and condescension. No reason can possibly be
supposed why the Son of God, and Lord of the creation, should make him
self lower than the angels for us, by any necessity of his own condition.
There was indeed a necessity for us, who could not be redeemed without
him, but no necessity arising from the divine nature. If a creature ready
to be famished be in a place where there is only one peraon of ability and
sufficiency to relieve him, there is a necessity on the part of the poor crea
ture to be relieved, and relieved by that person, since there is no other to
help him, but there ia no neceaaity on the pai?t of the aufficient peraon to
relieve him ; the help he afforda him will be a mere act of charity. This act
of Christ ia therefore called grace : 2 Cor. viii. 9, ' The grace of our Lord
Jesus Christ, that though he were rich, yet for our sakes he became poor ; '
nothing could move him to become either a creature or a servant in a created
state, but the yearnings of his own bowels towards fallen and miserable man.
(2.) It was necessary after this engagement. His engagement to make
himself liable to punishment in our stead was free, but when he had entered
into bonds to the Judge of heaven and earth, he was then in hia power to be
delivered up to death, according to that obligation which he subscribed and
consented to ; he was then legally, and by his own conaent, bound to per
form what he had undertaken, and could not justly detract. The promisea
of Christ are without repentance, as well as the gifts of God. After Christ
had put himself into the state of a creature, and form of a servant, the hom
age due from a creature to God, and the work of a servant after his ear was
bored, waa necessary, and could not be refused by him. He had then broke
his word passed to hia Father in the covenant of redemption, had he absolutely
declined it. . He ought to die as Christ, Luke xxiv. 46, i. e. as clothed with
our nature for such an end. He needed not to die, as he was the Son of
God by eternal generation, and lay in the bosom of his Father ; but it was
necessary aa he waa made under the law, made Christ, i. e. anointed to such
a purpose. It was necessary, also, in regard of the truth of God laid to
pawn in several promises, prophecies, and legal representations ; but still
* Aquin, sum i}art, iii. qu. 47, part. 3.

Eph. Y. 2.] the voluntabiness op cheist's death. 545
the fountain of all this was the free bubbling up of infinite affection to man
kind. Yet this-necessity waa a neceaaity of immutabihty, not of constraint.
The holy and unchangeable wiU whioh complied with the first propoaal,
remained in force tiU the first execution. The wiU of the eternal Spirit,
whereby he offered himself to hia Father, was immutable. It is a necessity
arising from himaelf, and the perfection of his own nature ; from hia own
holy will, not from any constraint. God cannot be constrained ; liberty is
so essential a property of the divine nature, that though it may determine
itself, it cannot constrain itself To be God is a term of infinite power, to
be constrained is a term of impotency ; these are contradictions in the
Godhead. Besides, in his human nature he could not sin, he could not be
overcome by the devil, he could find nothing in him as a foundation to
stand upon,'* John xiv. 30. He could not do anything against the Father.
But to deaert hia suretyship had been contrary to that law to which he had
subjected himself; the word of the oath, whereby he was constituted a
priest, had been fruitless. It had been the utter ruin of all the gracious
decrees of God, because all the elect were ' chosen in him,' Eph. i. 4, 5 ;
the covenant with Abraham and the patriarchs had been nuU, the oath which
he sware to them broken, Luke i. 73 ; and the foundation of their faith fall
ing, the Vhole superstructure had been dissolved, and they would have
believed God in vain. All this necessity is no plea against his willingness.
The obhgation which the truth of God lays upon hin^ after he hath pro
mised, doth not diminish his first kindness and grace in making the promise.
Aa the necessity of his death did not extenuate the Jews' sin in butchering
him, so neither doth it lessen Chriat's willingness in laying down his life
after he had voluntarily entered into our bonda.
(3.) Though hia death was violent in regard of man, yet this doth not
abate the voluntariness in regard of himself Judas betrayed him, the
Serjeants apprehended him, Pilate condemned him, and the soldiers crucified
him. These were but instruments to execute ' the counsel of God,' Acts
iv. 28 ; yet he need not have been apprehended unless he would ; he shewed
his power to eacape, not only the united force of the Jewish nation, but of
the whole world, by striking his apprehenders to the ground with the majesty
of his looks. He that can rescue himself from the hands of men, and will
not, may be said to die willingly, though he die violently. They slew him
as murderers, and made him a sacrifice to their revenge, not to God, ' with
wicked hands,' Act* ii. 23, and vrith wicked minds too. He was the sole
offerer of himself, as it respected God and advantaged ua. Judas wiUingly
delivered him, Pilate with an imperfect wiU condemned him, the Jews
delightfully reproached him, but the intention of none of them was to make
him a sacrifice of redemption. It was ' for our sakes he sanctified himself,'
John xvii. 19, but it was not for our sakes that the Jews butchered him.
Judas delivered him for the silver, and Pilate condemned him to preserve
hia grandeur, but he delivered himself with an excessive affection for us.
His murderers had no regard to the making him an expiation for the sin of
the world ; his oblation to God as a sacrifice was an act purely of his own
wiU at the very time of his death, not of his enemies' rage. In this capa
city his death was solely the fruit of his love, and the hovering of hia aoul
over the lost sons of Adam ; it did not arise from a necessity of nature,
but the will of his mercy to us ; he gave himself, and gave himself out of
love, Gal. ii. 20 ; enemies did not give him, nature did not give him. The
inward transports and affections of his soul, the actings of his choicest
* Cocc. de feed. pp. 115, 116.
VOL. IV. Mm

546 chabnock's wobks. [Eph. Y. 2.
gracea, whereby his offering was rendered acceptable to God, his murderers
were not the cauae of ; they had not force enough to crucify him, had not a
joy been set before him, which made him endure the crosa, Heb. xii. 2, i. e,
the things wherein he rejoiced, as those things are called our hope, whioh
are the object of our hope. The joy of Christ, whioh made him despise the
shame and ignominy of the croas, was the glorious good he should procure
hy his suffering, the expiation of sin, reconciliation of God, the new creation
of the world ; for the producing and ripening such fruits did he hang upon
the tree. This gave him contentment and pleasure in the midst of hia in
dignities, and this was increased, not impaired, by the fury of his enemies.
Though his death, in regard of men, was violent, yet, as the death of a
sacrifice, it was wholly voluntary.
(4.) When our Saviour seemed unwUhng to it in the time of his agony,
he was then highly wUhng. This was when he prayed earnestly that the
cup might pass from him, and begins, John xii. 27, ' Father, save me from
this hour.' The strugghngs of innocent nature do both timea end not only
in a gracioua submission to the will of God, but in an ardent desire that the
wiU and glory of God might have their full accomphshment. ' But for this
cause came I unto thia hour,' therefore ' Father, glorify thy name ;' do
thy own work, and finish every part of thy will in me, and what thou hast
appointed me to undergo. The state Chriat was in must needs admit of
aome shrinkings in hia nature, encompaased with our infirmities ; he saw
the comfortable influences of God suspended, the indignation of God for
our sins breaking out, the guilt of innumerable iniquities imputed to him,-
and the law with all its euraea edged against him, and himself left to bear
the weight of all this, and conflict vrith a wrath no creature ever bore before.
The apprehensions of all these, meeting in a clear understanding, could not
but raise suitable passions of fear and trouble in his human nature. Ifhe had
not known the greatness of the punishment he waa to endure for our re
demption, he had undertaken to ransom us from he knew not what ; if he
had not feared it, he had not been a sensible man ; if he had not trembled at
it, he had not been an innocent man. Suitable affections to God in his car
riage towards ua are the necessary dutiea of a creature. God ia the object
of fear in his vindictive juatice, which Chriat then was to be subject to. It
had not consisted with that reverence which Christ always showed to God,
not to be sensible of the sharpness of those punishments which were then
providing for him aa a aubstituted criminal in our stead. Though the per
son of our Sariour waa but one, yet he, having two natures, had two wills,
a divine and human, othervrise -he were not God and man. If he had not a
human aoul, he were not a man ; and if he had not a human will, he had
not a human soul. As he truly took our nature, so he took the lawa of it,
whereby it cannot affect pain, but shuns whatsoever it apprehends hurtful to
it. As death was an evil against nature, he desfres to decline it ; as it was
to be an atonement for sin, and appeasing of wrath through the dignity of
the sacrifice, he desires to undergo it ; he regarded it aa man, and ao had
some reluctance to it ; he regarded it as a man deaigned for such an end,
and therefore submitted to it. ' But for this cauae came I unto this hour.'
As it was a dissolution of nature, a fruit of God's displeasure against sin,
and should for a time exclude hia soul and body from the fruition of the divine
favour and glory (though the peraonal union should not be dissolved), he
startled at it ; for the more Christ loved the sense of the divine love which
he enjoyed in his hfe, the more grievous would the apprehension of the want
thereof be.* But when he conaidered that he was united to that nature,
* Bilson's survey, p. 398.

Eph. Y. 2.] the voluntabiness of cheist's death. 547
that he might suffer in it, and lay it down as a sacrifice to that justice
whioh brandished a naked sword against man, that without it the world
could not be freed from that misery sin had hurled it into, he then put hia
neck under the cross ; as a patient who, considering the potion offered as bit
ter, abhora it,* but remehabering the intention of the phyaioian, and the
beneficial qualities of the medicine, doth readUy accept it. Both the abhor
rency and acceptance are acts of the same wUl upon divers considerations,
or rather the abhorrency is an act of nature regarding it aa distasteful, the
acceptance is an act of reason regarding it as wholesome. Now, was not
the will of Christ as mediator as victorious in the issue over the reluctance
as it had been in the capacity of a man desirous of the removal of the cup ?
The human will veils to the divine will, and conforma itaelf not only in a quiet
poature to the resolves of God, but in an ardent desire that his will might
be performed. There was more of obedience in ' Thy will be done, not
mine,' and more of ardent affections in ' Father, glorify thyself,' than there
was of reluctancy in ' Let thia cup pass from me,' or ' Save me from this
hour.' He disclaims the will of his human nature, to perform the will of
hia Father's mercy.
2. Wherein this voluntariness of Christ'a death appears.
(1.) He willingly offered himself in the first counsel about redemption to
stand in our stead. When our necks were upon the block, and the blow
fi-om justice was otherwise unavoidable, Christ atepa in, diverta the blow from
us to himaelf, and declares himself willing to suffer what we had merited,
that we might eacape upon that auffering. The Father propoaed it, the Son
consented to it. The will of God is antecedent to the consent of Christ :
Ps. xl. 7, ' I come to do thy will, 0 my God,' which will was the will of
God for our sanctification, ' through the offering of the body of Christ,'
Heb. X. 10. Though he knew every thorn in the way he waa to pass, the
greatness of the wrath he was to undergo, yet his heart leapt into the Father's
arms with a full and ready consent at the first overture. The Father pro
posed it not with more affection than the Son entertained it with delight : ' I
delighttodothy wUl, OmyGod.' He waa loath to leave expressing it: 'I come;'
that ia liot all, ' I delight to do thy will ;' nor doth it rest there, ' Thy law
is within my heart.' It is so settled that it cannot be rooted out but with
the utter dissolution of my heart. Thus, ' in the volume,' or the beginning
' of the book, it is written of him.' In the book of Genesis, in the first
promise, the second person in the Trinity (who is supposed to appear to our
first parents after the fall) represents himself a suffering Saviour, and testifies
his own consent to the suffering he was to undergo, as the aeed of the woman,
by ha-ving his heel bruised by the serpent, and the victory he was to obtain
by breaking the serpent's head. When the counsel was resolved upon,
Christ is said to ' delight in the habitable parts of the earth,' Prov. vui. 31.
His conaent was past before the world was ; it was a delight to him, because
'of the glory of God's grace, to he made illustrious in the sacrifice of him
self. It cannot be meant of the first creation, for that is supposed, and
there could be no exulting delight in that, since the defilement of it by sin
preaently succeeded the laying on the top-stone. It ia meant, therefore, of
the restoration of the world, which was to be brought by this wisdom of God.
Some, to invalidate the deity of Christ, understand by Wisdom in that book
and chapter, an intellectual habit, which is ridiculous. The antiquity of
the Wisdom here spoken of is ' before the mountains were aettled, and be
fore there were any fountains abounding with water.' The Wisdom here
described waa present ' vrith God ' when he made the world. It was entfrely
* Donne, vol. i. p. 129.

548 chabnock's wobks. [Eph. Y. 2.
familiar with him ; there was such a famiharity between God and Wisdom
as between a father and a son : ver. 80, ' I was by him as one brought up
with him,' and pecuharly the delight of God.
(2.) The whole course of his life manifests this wiUingness. His vrill
stood right to this point of the compass all hia life. He never had any de
fect in his understanding, nor did his memory of what was appointed for
him ever fail him. In the time of his life he frequently mentioned the
tragedy to be acted upon him, the manner of his death by lifting up on the
cross, John iii. 14 ; and he who was intimately acquainted with the prophets
knew every circumstance of his death predicted in them. Many enter the
lists with difficulties out of ignorance, but the willingness of our Sariour can
not be ascribed either to ignorance or forgetfulness. He knew long before
that Judas was to betray him, before such a design entered into Judas his
heart, John vi. 64, yet cashiered him not from his family. He foretold the
hour of bis death ; his desires were strong for it ; he was straitened tiU he
was baptized with that bloody baptism, Luke xii. 50. He had little ease
in his own bowels, as though it were a kind of death to him not to be a
sacrifice ; and when Peter would have dissuaded him from suffering, he
useth him as smartly as he would have done the devil : Mat. xvi. 28, ' Get
thee behind me, Satan,' implying that in that speech he was the same enemy,
by giving him the same title. And the night before, he doth solenmly
oblige himself to suffer by his deed,* as well as he had before by his word ;
he makes bis testament in the institution of the supper, and delivers his will
into the hands of his disciples. His heart '«'as bent to wade through it ;
he gave them his blood in the sacrament, to shew how freely he would pour,
it forth the following day in a sacrifice. The free distribution of his body to
them represented the free offering up his body for them.
(8.) At the time of his death he manifested this voluntariness in his whole
carriage. When the time drew near, he declined it not ; he would enter
Jerusalem with Hosannas, as if when he went to his death he went to his
triumph ; and indeed it was so, for by that oblation of himself upon the cross,
he ' triumphed over principalities and powers,' Col. ii. 15. He went into
the garden, which was aa it were the bringing himself to the door of the
tabernacle to be offered to God.f He had at the passover bid Judaa to exe
cute quickly his traitorous intention, and now quickens the high priest's dull
officers to apprehend him, when he told them twice himself was the person
they sought. He summoned not one angel to take arms for his rescue,
though he could have commanded legions to attend him; but as he had
rebuked Peter before for dissuading him, he now rebukes him for defending
him ; moved thereto by an ardency of zeal to drink the cup : John xviii. 11,
' Shall I not drink of the cup whioh my Father hath given me ? ' He would
not court the protection of Herod by working a miracle to please his curiosity.
As he would have no relentings himself, so he would not endure them in
others ; and therefore dissuades the women from expressing their natural
affection in a few tears, Luke xxiii. 28. His aoul waa not wrung and torn
from him, but he rendered hia spirit into the handa of hia Father, and cried
with a loud voice before that last act ; so that he died not by a defect of '
strength, but by an ardency of will. He was more delighted with his suffer
ings for us than we can be with the greatest worldly pleasures and grandeurs,
and valued reproaches for us above the empire of the world. To conclude,
his soul was not tom from him, but he 'poured it out,' Isa. lui. 12, even
that which was dearest to him, as a man doth water, freely and willingly out
* Lingend, Eucharist, p. 22. t Dr Owen.

Eph. Y. 2.] the voluntabiness of cheist's death. 549:
of the vessel, ' he poured out his soul unto death ; ' he ordered death to come
and fetch it.
III. Thing. Why this voluntariness was necessary.
1. On the part of the person.
2. On the part of justice.
3. On the part of acceptation.
1. On the part of the aacrifice itself He was above any obhgation to that
work he so freely undertook for us. When he made himaelf of no reputation,
it was a work of hia charity, not of necessity ; and he was bound in no other
bonda but those of his own love. Nor could he be overruled to anything
against his own consent ; for being ' God equal with the Father,' Phihp. u.
6, he was subject to no law, nor could be constrained to bend under the
terms and penalties of it. Christ as the second person was not under a law
any more than the Father ; for he was ' in the form of God,' i. e. had the
same essence with God. Suppose he had been incarnate without entering
into any bonds for us, though so far as he was man he waa bound actively
to obey the precepts of the law, yet not bound to endure the penalties ofthe
law, unless he had been a transgressor of the precept : he was to have
obeyed it as a creature, but not suffer the curse, unless he had been
a guilty creature. But he was not only made under the law, as aq innocent
creature, but ' in the likeness of sinful flesh,' Rom. viii. 3, as like as pos
sible could be, sin only excepted ; and therefore obaerved these ceremonial
precepta which concerned creaturea as sinful : as circumcision, though he
had no lust in his human nature to be cut off, and baptism, though he had
no stain to be washed away. And indeed, as he waa not, so he could not be
a transgressor, being secured by. his conception from any original taint, and
by the hypostatical union from any actual spot. If he could possibly have
been a transgressor, the salvation of the elect had been contingent. Being a
creature, of the seed of the woman, he may be supposed to be under the
condition of the covenant of nature ; yet not violating that covenant, he could
not justly die for himaelf.
2. Neceaaary on the part of juatice. The satisfaction for sin was to be
made by death, because man upon his revolt from God was, by tbe immutable
law, bound over to death. Man could not satisfy the law but by death, and
so must have lain under the bonds of that death for ever, and no convenient
way could be found for his rescue, unless some one, who was not obnorions
to that penalty by nature, should auffer in his stead that death which he
owed. Now had it not been an injustice to inflict a punishment upon a
person purely innocent, and unwilling to render himself in the place of the
criminal ? No man can be justly constrained to pay either a pecuniary or
criminal debt for another without his own consent, either actual, at the
time of paying or suffering ; or legal, when entering into the same bonds, he
hath made himself legally one person with the debtor or offender. Had not
Christ voluntarily undertaken it, justice had been wronged instead of being
satisfied. It could upon no account have been just to punish one that had
not been guilty upon his own score, or by substitution. The satisfaction of
justice in one kind had been an injury to it in another. Well then, the will
of Christ could not have saved us without his suffering ; because, as the law
had denounced death, justice was to be satisfied by death. Nor could the
sufferings of Christ have saved ua vrithout hia wiU, for none can be an involun
tary surety ; had he not consented to have our ains imputed to him, the
punishment of our aina could not have been inflicted on him. To take from
any what is not due, and when they are unwiUing to part with it, ia rapine.
3. Neceasary in regard of acceptation. Christ's consent waa as necessary

550 chabnock's wobks. [Eph. Y. 2.
as God's order. Had Christ suffered for us vrithout the consent ofhis Father,
the judge of the world, though bis sufferings had been of infinite value, becamse
of the dignity of his person, yet God had not been obliged to look upon us
as concerned in him,* nor count him* to us or for us ; and had not Christ con
sented that they should be for us, they could not justly have been accepted
for us, or applied to us. It had been an alienating the goods against
the will of the donor. As God's order makes his sacrifice capable of
being satisfactory, so the consent of Christ makes it capable of being accepted
for us and applied to ua. The heathens would not offer a beast that came
struggling to the altar ; but God, under the law, regarded not the reluctance
of the aacrifice, but the free will of tbe offerer, which was necessary to make
tbe sacrifice a sweet savour. How much more necessary is the voluntariness
of that person who waa to be both sacrifice and priest ! Love belongs to the
integrity of a sacrifice ; a burnt body without charity is of no value, 1 Cor.
xui. 3. The merit of his death depended, not upon the act of dying, or the
penal part in that death, but upon his wiUing obedience in it, in conjunction
with the dignity of bis person ; and without this his soul might have expired
without being a sacrifice. As the disobedience of Adam rendered the world
obnoxious to wrath, so by the voluntary oblation of Christ, justification is
conferred upon believera, Rom. v. 19. His love made hia aacrifice a aweet-
smelling savour. By the pouring out his soul is our redemption wrought ;
Isa. liii. 12, ' He ahall divide the spoil with the strong, because he poured
out his soul unto death,' or he shall partake of the spoil with the strong;
he ahall take us as hia own apoila, who were before the devil'a prey, and
restore to us that blessedness which the devil rifled us of. We are restored,
and himself exalted, not merely because he died, but because he died wilhngly.
In vain had we hoped for the benefit of a forced redemption.f
IY. Use.
1. The way of redemption by a sacrifice was necessary. Why should
Chriat so wilhngly undertake this task, be a man of sorrows, lay himself
down into the grave, if the atonement of our sins could have been procured
at an easier rate ? He that made the world by a word would have redeemed
ua by a word, if it had atood with his own honour. It is at least necessary
for God's greater honour and man's aurer benefit. The application of it to
us must be as necessary aa the oblation of it for us. Think not a few tears,
the heat-drops of a natural repentance, can expiate those sina for which Christ
thought the best blood in his heart so necessary to be shed.
2. The death of Christ for ua was most just on the part of God. 'What
Christ did willingly submit to, God might justly charge upon him aa a due
debt. 'Volenti non fit injuria. That man that wiU enter into bond to secure
the debt to the creditor, or satisfy for the criminal to the governor, may justly
be sued upon default of payment by the one, and arrested for default of
appearance by the other ; what he promised may justly be demanded of him.
3. How wonderful was the love of Christ ! To accept so wilhngly of such
hard conditions for us, and die so ignominiously upon the cross we had
deserved ! He knew the burden of sin, he knew the terrors of hell ; yet he
did not shrink from the imputation of the one, or the sufferings of the other.
It was not a willingness founded upon ignorance, but upon a clear-sighted
affection. He was wiUing to be reproached, that we might be glorified ; he
would be like to us, that we might be conformed to him ; and took our human
nature, that we might in a sort partake of his divine. Oh wonderful love I
to open his breast to receive into his own heart the aharp edge of that sword
which was directed against ns. Had not his feet been weU shod with love,
* Qu. ' them ' ?— Ed. f Hall, vol. ii. p. 246.

i )

Eph. V. 2.J the voluntabiness of cheist's death. 551
he would soon have turned back, and said his way was unpassable.* A
courtesy is enhanced by the greater ingrediency of the wUl in it ; our Saviour
had a double will in this matter, the wUl of the divine, and the wiU of his
human nature, like two atreama from diatant parta meeting together in con
junction. Worse than devila are we, if we are not raviahed with so great an
affection, which made him leave the heaven of his Father's presence for a
time, to pass through our hell in the dregs of the creation.
4. How willingly then should we part with our sins for Christ, and do our
duty to him ! Oh that we could in our measures part as willingly with our
lusts as he did with his blood ! He parted with his blood when he needed
not, and shaU not we with our sina, when we ought to do so for our own
safety, as well as for his glory ? Since Christ eame to redeem us from the
slavery of the devil, and strike off the chains of captivity, he that wUl remain
in them, when Christ vrith so much pains and affection hath shed his blood
to unloose them, prefers the devil and sin before a Saviour, and will find the
affront to be aggravated by the Redeemer's voluntariness in suffering for his
liberty. How willingly should we obey him, who so willingly obeyed God
for us ! Christ did not let his enemies snatch away his life, but laid it
down ; our duties should not be wrung from ua, but gently distil from us.
The more will in sin, the blacker ; the more will in obedience, the sweeter.
It is in this we should imitate our great pattern.
* Gurnal's Armour, part ii. p. 444.

A DISCOURSE OF THE ACCEPTABLENESS OF
CHRIST'S DEATH.

A sacrifice to God for a sweet-smelling sanour. — Eph. Y. 2.
Ha-ving despatched the first doctrine about the voluntariness of Christ's
death, from those words, hath given himself, I proceed to speak of the
acceptablenesa of it, from this latter clause of the verse. Allusion is made
here to the perfume God commanded under the law, Exod. xxx. 34. The
spices were to be pounded, and afterwards put into a censer, to be dissolved
into a sweet fume in the Levitical service ; Chriat waa bruised by his
humiliation, to be rendered a aweet perfume to God.
Doct. Tbe sacrifice of Christ was acceptable to God, and efficacious for
men. There was a complete satisfaction made to God, the supreme Judge
offended, pleasing to him, and effectual to free the guilty party from the
obligation to the deaerved punishment. Chriat was white, in regard of his
innocence ; ruddy, in regard of his bloody passion : both put together made
him the chiefest among ten thousand. Cant. v. 10. The efficacy of this
sacrifice in many fruits of it is fully expressed, Dan. ix. 24. The transgres
sion was finished, an end put to sin, the apostasy of Adam was checked, the
idolatry of the Gentiles overthrown, the atonement of sin made, which could
not be by the legal sacrifices ; a righteousness pleasing to God, and there
fore everlasting, introduced ; all the predictions of him fulfilled ; whereupon
he is anointed, i. e. fully settled in all his offices, and declared by that
anointing to be a complete aacrifice, and the Prince of our salvation. The last
words our Saviour spake npon the cross gave us an assurance of this ; he
saw and knew the work completely performed, and then gave up the ghost :
John xix. 30, ' When Jesus had received the vinegar, he said. It ia finiahed ;
and he bowed hia head, and gave up the ghoat.' AU the prophecies of what
I was to do are accomplished ; I have nothing else now to do, to render my
undertaking complete, but the bowing down my head, and aending out my
last breath to my Father. All the sacrifices of the law, the daily and anni
versary sacrifices, were shadowa and images of him, and fulfiUed in thefr
main design in and by him. It could not be otherwise than acceptable,
since there was no omission of anything required of him, no commission of
anything forbidden to him. The whole law, both the mediatory law and
the law of nature, were within his heart ; the whole law was answered by

Eph. V. 2.] the acceptableness of cheist's death. 553
his life. He paid an obedience, not by measure, as he had received the
Spirit not by meaaure, to prepare him to be a victim for onr redemption.
It was acceptable to God for na ; so muat the apostle be understood. It
was a sweet savour to God for those persons, and those ends for which he
gave himself As it was a sacrifice intended and offered to God for us, so
it was accepted as a sweet-smelling savour by God for those persons and
ends. In handling this doctrine, I shall,
I. Premise two things for the explication of it.
II. Prove it.
III. Apply it. '
I. I shall premise two things for the explication of it.
1. God was not absolutely bound to accept it for us. Though this sacri
fice was infinitely valuable in itself, and had it been without a divine order,
might have been counted a testimony of affection to the honour of God and
the good of the creature, yfet God might have refused any acceptance of it
for us ; he might have rejected every sacrifice but that of the offender. If
we consider it simply in itself, without any previous order, without any
covenant struck between the Father and the Son concerning it, he was not
obliged to have any respect to the apostate creature upon the account of it.
But after a covenant struck between them, wherein it was agreed that Christ
should lay down his soul as a ransom, and offer himself an unblemished
sacrifice for the sons of men, and that he should see the travail of his soul,
and by his righteousness justify many, after he had ' borne their iniquities
in his own body on the tree,' Isa. lin. 10, 11, God could [not but accept
it, unless he could have found a spot in the offering, and charged him with
a non-performance of any article covenanted between them. If it were
according to the tenor of the covenant of redemption, it could not be refused
by God, being consequent to his decree and promise. But if we consider it
in itself, God was not bound to accept it for us, though he might have had
an high esteem of it ; for, according to the tenor of his law, he might have
demanded a compensation from the person of the sinner, and laid the punish
ment upon the person upon whom he found the guilt, and exacted the life
of the sinner as a sacrifice for the sin. The acceptableness of this sacrifice
was from itself, in regard of the dignity of the person, the infiniteness of the
sacrifice ; but the actual acceptation of it for us was from the covenant and
agreement between them. When a man offers to give a thousand pound for
that which is not worth a thousand pence, the sum is not only a valuable,
but an over-valuable consideration for that which is desired ; but the accep
tation of this sum from the other depends upon the will of the person whose
propriety it is. The death of Christ was a sacrifice of a valuable considera
tion for the sin of the world, and sufficient to expiate the greatest crimes
both for number and weight ; but the receiving of it upon such an account
depended upon the will of the Law-giver, whose authority was violated in the
breach of the law, and who, as the only Judge, had passed sentence on the
offending creaturea, and had ' concluded all under sin,' Rom. xi. 32, and
sentenced the whole world (p-jrodr/.ov) ' under condemnation,' Rom. iii. 19. It
must be accepted by him ; it had not else been of itself valid for ua. In
regard, therefore, of the valuablenesa of this sacrifice, all the beneficial fruits
of it streaming upon the creature are in Scripture ascribed to the death of
Christ ; but in regard of God's acceptation of it for us, they are ascribed to
the grace of God ; to the grace of God, as appointing and accepting ; to the
death of Christ, aa procuring and purchasing. The grace of God gave a
virtue to the mediation of Chriat, in regard of its application to us ; but the

554 chabnock's woeks. [Eph. Y. 2.
death of Christ had a value in itself," whether it had been accepted for us or
not, or ordered by God to be applied to us. And as God respects the
agreement in the promise he makes to us, so Christ doth not enter any pleas
in respect of the intrinsic worth of his blood, but makes this agreement the
foundation of them : John xvii. 4-6, ' I have finished the work which thou
gavest me to do.' The prevalency of it for us depended upon God's order.
Indeed, had he not finished the work, he could not have challenged the
reward promised ; there was to be merit on his part before a reward on
God'a. Yet the suffering on his part may be conceived without any reward
on God'a part, if considered separate from this agreement and divine trans
action between them. We must not understand this as though, if God had
not been obliged to dignify Christ for his sufferings, by the promise he had
made him, he would not have rewarded thoae aufferinga out of mere good
ness ; for since God in his own nature is infinitely good, he cannot but love
holinesa and affection to him, and testify his approbation of it by some
retribution. 2. As the acceptation of it depended upon the will of the Lawgiver and
Rector, so the acceptablenesa of it depended upon the will of the Redeemer.
The apoatle therefore saith, ' He gave himaelf for us ; ' the aweetness of it
depended upon the wUl of the donor, in concurrence with the wiU of God.
The more of wiU there is in any act of a creature's obedience, the more
savoury it is to the divine Majesty to whom it is paid. His love both to
God and us made his sacrifice a sweet-smelling savour. The merit of his
death depended not upon hia mere dying, or upon the penal part in that
death, but upon hia willing obedience in it, in conjunction with the dignity
of his person ; without this, he might have breathed out his soul without
being a victim. Had not Christ's will been full and firm in it, that his
sufferings ahould be for ua, they could not juatly have been accepted for us,
or applied to us ; it could not have been a payment of our debt, and the
application of him to us had been an alienating the goods of another against
the will of tbe proprietor. This aweet savour exhaled from his voluntari
ness ; he was not dragged to his sufferings, but suffered more wiUingly than
we had greedily sinned against God. We had conscience checking us in
sinning, but Christ had no conscience checking him in suffering ; it was his
meat and drink to do his Father's wiU. As God's order makea his aacrifice
capable of being aatisfactory, so the free willingness of Christ makes it
capable of being accepted for ua, and applied to us. Involuntary aervices
are rather passions than actions ; in them we rather auffer a aervice than
perform it. There waa obedience in every preparatory act of Chriat : obe
dience in the last act, in the suffering death ; and it was his obedience in
suffering, not simply the auffering itself, made it meritorious of hia mediatory
glory for us : Philip, ii. 8, 9, ' Wherefore God also hath highly exalted him,'
viz. becauae of his ' obedience to the death of the cross.' His joy in per
forming was the incentive of God's joy in valuing, accepting, and rewarding
it. God eyed hia obedience in the crown he gave him, and it was in the
consideration of his obedience in suffering that he advanced him to that
excellent dignity.
II. Thing. That this sacrifice is acceptable to God and efficacious for ns
will appear in several propositions.
l./God took pleasure in the designment and expectation of it.
(1.) His eternal dehghts were in him, not only aa his Son, but as a Re
deemer. God's delight in Christ, and Chriat'a rejoicing in the habitable
parts of the earth, and delighting in the sons of men, are coupled together,
Prov. viii. 80, 31, aa if God delighted in him because he delighted m the

Eph. Y. 2.] the acceptableness of cheist's death. ' 555
redemption of man. Hence God is introduced as speaking with a kind of
joy of thia ransom : Job xxxiu. 24, ' Then is he gracious to him, and saith.
Deliver him from going down into the pit, I have found a ransom ; ' i. e. I
have accepted a ranaom, and have a price in my hand ; as Hos. xii. 8, ' I
am become rich, I have found me out substance ; ' i. e. I have got wealth
enough ; so I have here price sufficient, unloose the chains of the prisoner.
This finding is the same on God's part with acceptation, as finding on
Christ's part is the same with obtaining : Heb. ix. 12, < Having obtained
eternal redemption,' ivgdf/,mg, having found. It is the speech of God ; who
else but the Rector of the world, and the Judge of aU flesh, hath power to
order the delivery of the captive ? It is the exultation of hia mercy at the
appearance of a sufficient aacrifice for the forlorn sinner, whose soul was
drawing near to the grave, and his life to the destroyers. It is the triumph
of mercy at the thought of it.
(2.) What was the ground of his promisea to him, but his pleasure in
him for this undertaking ? What else oan be the meaning of those words,
which the apostle cites to prove the deity of Christ : Heb. i. 5, 'And again,
I will be to him a Father, and he shall be to me a Son ; ' that God would
be always to him a Father, accepting his obedience, and he should alwaya
be a Son, offering upon the cross, or pleading upon the throne, his sacrifice
and sufferinga ; a Father to him as mediator, to countenance, encourage,
accept him and all his undertakings ? This is a promise made to Christ.
What need of any promises to Christ, conaidered only aa the Son of God,
equal with the Father ? It is a promise to Christ as the aeed of David (the
place the apostle citea it from is 2 Sam. vii. 14) ; and if to him as the seed
of David, it is made to him as mediator, promising a ki-ngdom to him upon
his suffering, and an eternal acceptation of him as an obedient Son, the
ground whereof was his purging our sins by himself, Heb. i. 3. All the
promises of God to Christ respect not Chriat absolutely conaidered as the
Son of God, but in the relation of mediator, sacrifice, ransom for man ; for
they are all branches issuing upon that firat promiae to man in paradiae of
the seed of the woman, whose heel was to be bruised. God promiseth to
be a Father to Christ, in the aame sense that Chriat owns him to be his
God and his Father after his resurrection, John xx. 17, which respects God's
relation to him as mediator ; for as he ia considered absolutely aa the Son
of God, God could not so properly be said to be his God. The term im
pliea a covenant between them, in pursuance of which Christ was to be God's
servant ; and in acceptance of this, God waa the God of Christ, and pro
mises to be his Father, manifesting hia fatherly and gracioua acceptance of
his services, as a father doth the obedience of a son ; and therefore Christ
pleads the righteouaness of God for the obtaining the accomplishment of hia
grace in those that believe in him, as well as the love which God bore to
him as mediator : John xvii. 25, 26, ' 0 righteous Father,' &c. Grace
was the fountain of the promise, but justice is obliged for the performance.
(3.) Hence it was that he declared his acceptation of him at his entrance
into his office, which waa at hia baptism : Mat. iii. 17, ' Thia is my beloved
Son, in whom I am well pleased ;' not respecting only his eternal fihation, but
the work he was entering into the exercise of, and the preparations to his
being a aacrifice. With this work, wherein his Son was to glorify him, was he
well pleased ; his interposition as a victim for the salvation of many brethren
was grateful to God. The word nvi, the word in Isa. xhi., whence thia place
ia cited, ia often used to express God's pleasure in, and acceptance of, aacri
fices offered to him ' according to his will,' as Job. xxxiii. 26, Mai. i. 8 ; and
here it refers to the whole work of Christ, as the whole work of redemption

556 chabnock's woeks. [Eph. Y. 2.
is called the good pleasure or kSoxla of God, Eph. i. 5. He confirms here
by his ovvn testimony what he had declared before by the angels in their
hymn, Luke ii. 14, ' good wiU toward men,' ivSoxla. So certain was God
that this sacrifice would answer all his ends, that he testifies himself well
pleased with him before the full performance of his work.
(4.) Hence it was that God delighted to bruise him, and in the thoughts
of it he foresaw what pleasure he should take in this, as I may say, aro
matic sacrifice, after it was bruised and pounded, Isa. liii. 10. Not that God
did delight in the act of bruising, considered separately from the enda for
which he bruised him (since aU acts of justice are his strange works), but
with an eye to the issue of it, which was the glory of hia divine perfections,
the recovery of lost man, the restoration of the health and soundness of the
creation. Aa the physician dehghts not in the sharpness of the physio he
administers to the patient, or a chirurgeon in lancing the body, but as it con
duceth to the health of the patient.
(5.) Hence it was that he took pleasure in the representations ofit before
it was actually offered. Hence the very first service after the promise was
probably a sacrifice, as hath been aaid before, and the chief part of worship
in the only church God had in the world for many ages consisted in sacrifices,
the representations of this grand victim in the end of the world. In all
those things, which could not upon their own account satisfy God, as not
being suited to hia justice and wisdom, and not able to expiate the sin of a
rational creature, he smelt a sweet savour as they were images of this sacrifice,
whence the greatest and most pleasant fragrancy should be exhaled. Gen . viii. 20.
All this pleasure of God teatified before the oblation was from the certainty
of its accomplishment. God knew he ' laid help upon one that was mighty,'
Ps. Ixxxix. 19, mighty to please him and pleasure us. God could not have
beforehand rejoiced in that which should have come short of his expectation ;
it is inconsistent with the Deity to have auch a disappointment. The least
failure in the sacrifice would have frustrated his contrivance, and rendered it
aa loathsome to God aa the sin of Adam for which he suffered. But it was
impossible for God to be disappointed, and impossible for the Redeemer,
being God as well as man, to fail in the performance of hia part, and thereby
God come short of his satisfaction, and the sinner of the security.
2. God had a reatoration of hia reat, which had been disturbed by the en
trance of sin, and therefore this sacrifice was highly acceptable to God. He
was God's servant in whom his soul delighted or had a rest, Isa. xiii. 1 ;
excluding all other things from contributing to the rest or delight of God.
God rested in the works of creation as they were shadows of his wisdom,
power, and greatness, especially as they were effluxes of his goodness, and
answered his glorious enda ; for the ground of his resting was a review of the
goodness of them according to his own mind and idea. He saw himself and
his attributes glittering in the creatures. But the reat of God waa disturbed
by the invasion sin made upon his rights in the world ; and no sooner had
he made the world and was refreshed, Exod. xxri. 17, but disorder and con
fusion, by means of sin, spread itaelf over that frame, whereupon he cursed
the earth which he had newly made, gave sentence against man, and though
it was tempered with the mercy of a' gracioua promiae, yet he left bim under
some outward penal evil all his days because of hia revolt, and had no rest
but in that seed of the woman, whose heel was to be bruised by the serpent,
that the serpent's head might be shattered and bruised by him ; and thereby
an end put to that disorder which had entered by the serpent's breath. And
therefore all the joy God hath in his church, the best part of his creation, is
from this rest or acquiescence in his love or the object of his love, Zeph.

Eph. Y. 2.] the acceptableness of cheist's death. ' 557
iii. 17, _ ' He wiU reat in hia love, he wiU rejoice over thee with singing.'
Hence it ia that the temple, the type of Chriat, ia called in regard- of those
shadows of him, viz. sacrifices daily performed in it, ' the house of hia glory,'
Isa. Ix. 7, ' a glorious high throne,' Jer. xvii. 12, ' the place of his rest,' laa.
Ixvi. 1. Could gold and ailver, polished stones, and artificial structures, be
the rest and throne of God ? As little as the blood of bulls and goats could
affect him of themselves with a fragrant amell. His sole acquiescence was
in the temple of the body of Christ, made fit to be a sacrifice, and repre
sented by those types. ' Such a rest he had in him as a sacrifice, that upon
that very account he gave all things into his hands ; and aa by etemal gene
ration he had communicated to him the perfections of his nature, so, as he
was a mediatory sacrifice, he gave him authority to execute judgment, gave
him a kingdom as large as his own, and seemed to veil his own authority to
increase hia, and as it were stands behind the curtain, while this our Mor-
decai, that saved ua from death, managea all the concerns of his empire ; and
all to this end, ' that men might honour the Son as they honoured the Father, '
John V. 22, 23. Such a perfect acquiescence hath God in him, that he will
entertain nothing to the prejudice of the honour of Chriat in his work. He
will not have the best works and sacrifices of men partners and competitors
with him : he will for ever discard all those that have not the same thoughts of
him, the same satisfaction and glorious rest in him, according to their mea
surea, aa himself hath. No other sacrifice shall be of value with him for
the atonement of ain ; not a dram of mercy, not ao much as to the quantity
of the cooling virtue of a drop of water, can reasonably be expected by those
that refresh not themselves with that sacrifice wherein God found so delightful
a rest. Such a rest hath God in his sacrifice, that it shall be the matter of
the praises of the saints to all eternity in heaven.
3. The highest perfections of God's nature had a peculiar glory from this
sacrifice. All his perfectiona, not discovered before to the sons of men, are
glorified punctually according to hia intentions and reaolves for thefr dis
covery. Not a tittle of his nature which waa to.be made known to the sons
of men, but is unveUed in thia sacrifice to their view in a greater glory than
the creatures were able to exhibit him. The ' knowledge of the glory of God
shines in the face' or appearance ' of Jesus Christ,' 2 Cor. iv. 6 ; i. e. all the
perfections of his nature are delineated in thia aaring aacrifice. In which
respect some think that Col. ii. 9, of the ' fulness of the Godhead's dwelling
in him bodily,' ia to be taken not only that the Deity dwelt in the human
nature, but the full diacovery of the perfections of ,the Godhead was in the
appearance of Christ in his body, as prepared for a sacrifice, as in a map and
scheme, as clear as could possibly be represented to the view of men. It is
in the purchase of our redemption by his blood that he appears to be ' the
image of the invisible God,' as well as the ' first-born' or head ' of every
creature,' Col. i. 14, 15 ; the image of those perfections of the Godhead
which otherwise had been utterly invisible to man ; tbe image not of his
wUl, as the Socinians, but of his nature. Hence is the glory of the Lord, aa
well as the salvation of his people, the name and title of Christ, Isa. xl. 5 :
' The glory of, the Lord shall be revealed,' Luke ii. 32. His holiness was
glorified inthe'discoveryof thehellishfilthineaaof sin ; his justice in the grievous
punishment of it ; his mercy to his creatures in giving the dearest thing he
had a ransom for them. In him he appeared gracious as weU aa righteous,
transcendently merciful in the exercise of the higheat justice, Ps. cxvi. 5 :
both shined clearly in the head of this sacrifice, being tempered for the glory
of God, and the good of the creature. The seat of justice is turned into a
throne of grace, puts on the quality of an advocate instead of that of an

558 chabnock's woeks. [Eph. Y. 2.,
accuser, uttering absolutions instead of condemnations. Since justice is
propitiated by the death of Christ, it steps in as an agent in the justification
of a believer, Rom. iii. 25, 26. Justice, the main attribute to be dreaded by
man, waa so glorified and pleased by this sacrifice, that this alone would
oblige him to the remission of sin, if mercy should not have any suit for itself.
4. Compare this sacrifice with the evil for which he was sacrificed, and
which had invaded the rights of God, and the sweet savour of it will appear,
as also the efficacy of it.
(1.) This sacrifice was as honourable for God as our ains had been a dis
honour to him. As much glory accrued to him by it as injury was offered
him by our sin. Our sin was the sin of a creature, and the sacrifice was
the act of that person by whom God made the world. The sin was the act
of his creature-image, the sacrifice was the act of the ' express image of his
person,' Heb. i. 2, 3. Sin was committed by man, and expiated by him who
was God. It was not only a rational sacrifice for the sin of a rational crea
ture, but a divine. The ain was an infinite offence in regard of the person
against whom it was committed, the price was of an infinite value in regard of the
person by whom it was paid ; the dignity of the peraon makes a compensation for
the malice of the crime. An infinite person was not more wronged by the
transgression than he ia righted by the dignity of the peraon who made the
compensation for it. It ia every way proportioned to the infiuite guilt of
the Crimea for -which it is offered, and the infinite justice of God whioh was
offended thereby. God had a price of a full value, he was fully repaired in
his honour, and we delivered from our chains. In some respect the attri
butes of God were not so much dishonoured by the sin of Adam as they were
glorified by the death of Christ. Christ glorified by his sacrifice those per
fections which were not then discovered, nor discoverable to Adam in his
innocence, as patience and grace, as well as those were particularly offended
by the revolt of man. This sacrifice fully repairs the honour of God, which
nothing else could do. Tbe reaaon why the damned lie for ever under the
weight of hia wrath in hell, ia, becauae by all their suffering they cannot re
store that honour to God, which they have robbed him of by their iniquities.
(2.) There was, therefore, a greater pleasure arose to God from this sacri
fice than noisomeness from our sin. The dignity ofthe person suffering was
equal to the dignity of the person injured, and infinitely exceeding the quahty
of the person offending. The sin of a creature could never be so filthy as
the blood of the Son of God was holy ; and the noisomeness of the first could
not equal the sweetness of the latter. The stench of sin was not only
balanced and tempered, but overpowered, by the sweetness of this sacrifice.
Divine justice was not more incensed against the crime, than dirine hohness
was delighted with the offering. Sin was the sin of the human nature, the
sacrifice was of the human nature in union with the divine, and offered up
by an ' eternal Spirit,' Heb. ix. 14. The apostle in that text alludes to Gen.
riii. 21. God smelled so aweet a aavour from Noah's sacrifice, the type of
thia, that he resolves never more to curse the ground, or send deluge upon
the new world, though he knew it would prove as bad as the old ; for in the
same breath wherein God's resolution is discovered to us, his sense of the
evil of men's imaginations from their youth is declared also. The fragrant
odour of the one was above the noisome acent of the other. Though our
consciences are purged from dead works, which do morally pollute ua, as the
touch of a dead body did ceremonially pollute the Israelites, yet they are but
partially purged here to serve the living God. There is not a serrice we
offer but hath something mixed with it contrary to the holiness of God, yet
the evil fumes that steam up with our sacrifices of du+y, are overpowered by

Eph. V. 2.] the acceptableness of cheist's death. 55.9
the rich perfume of the sacrifice of the Son of God ; that when for the foulness
of our imperfections we deserve a repulse, yet for the sweetness of his sacri
fice we find an acceptation. So much did the merit of his blood overcome
the ill scent of our iniquities in the nostrils of God, that he cancels our bonds,
whioh were due to him, and makes new ones of himself to Chriat ; he frees
the creature from the deaerved punishment, and obligeth himaelf to give
eternal life to every one that helievea in him thus sacrificed, howsoever
noisome his sins were wherewith he had affronted heaven before.
(8.) Therefore it is efficacious for man, because so pleasing and sweet to
God. Sin did not so much hurt to the transgressor, as this sacrifice pro
cures good to the believer. Sin took away our spiritual life ; Christ, by his
sacrifice, procures a restoration of it in a fuller communication than before,
John X. 10, a richer and more overflowing fountain than before, more abund
antly than Adam in irinooency, who had it mutable in his own hands, we
immutable in the handa ofour Head, who is our life ; more" abundantly than
the patriarchs of the Old Testament, who had it in hope, and we in the full
exhibition ; a spiritual life more firm than Adam's, ending in an eternal life
more durable. Therefore the grace of Christ surmounts the effects of Adam's
ain. The apostle discourseth of the abundance of grace above the abundance
of sin, Rom. v. 15-17. As Adam's sin barred paradise,again8t him and hia
posterity, the blood of Chriat, as oil to the lock, makes heaven's gates open
easily for the re- admission of every believer.
5. His resurrection after his bloody sacrifice is a clear evidence of the
sweetness of its savour with God, an4 its sufficiency for us. He was not
totally swallowed up by dirine justice, but surmounted all the strokes of it,
and lifted up his head above the waves that surrounded him. The fetters
of death had not been unlocked, if his sacrifice had not been satisfactory.
The justice of God might as well have discharged him without any sacrifice
at aU, as discharged him npon an insufficient one. The freedom, therefore,
of the prisoner from his chains, ia an evidence of the full aatisfaction of the
debt, ahd the completenesa of the aacrifice, since it is by that God, whose
name hath that letter in it, 'By no meana to clear the guilty,' Exod. xxxiv. 7,
that the writ pf execution was taken off: laa. liii. 10, 'He was taken from
priaon and from judgment.' By whom ? By him who only had authority
to release him, who became a God of peace by his sacrifice, before he shewed
himself a God of power in his resurrection, Heb. xiii. 20. He was appeaaed
as an offended lawgiver, before he gave a judicial discharge as the supreme
govemor, unloosed the chains of death, sent an angel as hia officer to unlock
the prison doors, the grave, and set him at full liberty, no more to be
arrested. There eould be in thia case no forcible breaking of prison, he be
ing in the hands of the almighty God, who had as much power to keep him
in the chains of death, had his sacrifice been blemished, as he had to free
him when his sacrifice was spotless. Justice, therefore, is fully satisfied,
since the pains of death are unloosed, Aots u. 24, 25, &o., for it was not
possible he should be holden of them, because the truth of God was engaged
that his ' holy One should not see corruption.' This raising him was a justi
fication of him, for when he was taken from prison he waa taken from judg
ment alao, that no suits could be brought against him, or any new actions
laid upon him ; and he was ' declared to be the Son of God,' Rom. i. 4, and
if we take in ver. 3, that seed of David alao, which was prophesied of; and
he was declared to be so ' with power,' h dvmfj,Bi, not only by the power that
raised him, but by the power of the government of the world, wherein he
was instated upon his resurrection. For this act of God was a testimony,
that he bad ordained him, and ordained him also to judge the world, Aots

560 chabnock's woeks. [Eph. Y. 2.

xvii. 31. By this he was acquitted by God, as having done all that he did .
according to the articles between them. And in that act all his membera
have an original and fundamental discharge, to be sued out in due time in
particular upon their faith. It is in this discharge he triumphs, as it was
his justification before men and angels : Isa. 1. 8, ' He is near that justifieth
me, who will contend with me ?' This is the foundation of the apostle's
epinicion and triumphant challenge, 1 Cor. xv. 55, 56, ' 0 death, where is
thy sting ?' Where is sin, that ushered death into the world, and by it stung
man to the heart ? It is conquered by the resurrection of Christ, which is
a clear evidence of the aweetness of this sacrifice to God, and ita efficacy for
ua. Our faith ia not in vain, whioh it had been, according to the apostle,
1 Cor. XV. 17, ifhe had not risen as he died, viz., in the quality ofour surety
and head. Had not the sacrifice been without exception, the devil had been
the victor, and Christ hia triumph. He would have acquired a stronger
power over men by the least blemish, as he first gained it by Adam'a sin.
Had he not been justified himself, he could never have justified us, nor could
the mercies of David have been sure and pevpetual without it, Acts xvii. 34.
So mightily pleased was God with this sacrifice, that he employed his glorious
power to raise him ; justice had no plea to continue him in prison, nor the
devil any power to hinder the breaking of his fetters. His sacrifice waa his
act to propitiate God, his resurrection was God's act to comfort us.
6. The ascension and full exaltation of Christ after his bloody sacrifice is
a full evidence of this doctrine. Since the promises made to Christ are ac
complished, which were conditional upon the making his soul an offering for
sin, it manifests he is an unexceptionable sacrifice. He had a kingdom pro
mised him, and doth now rule in the majesty of God, Micah v. 4. Had there
been the least blemish upon him, he could not have claimed the pertbrmanoe
of any one promise, nor had justice been bound to make any good to him.
Grace to man made the first promise to Christ in favour of justice, and jus
tice would have hindered the performance of any promise had it been able to
find any exception. This sacrifice of his, in pouring out his soul to death, is
the foundation of all bis advancement, Isa. liu. 11, 12. This being the
condition on his part, could not but be followed upon the fulfilling of it with
a performance of the promises on God's part. Now, Christ went first to
heaven in his soul immediately after his oblation, to present his sacrifice to
God, and receive his judgment about the validity of it,* for that day, the
day of his sufferings, he was to be in paradise ; ' after death the judgment,'
This was agreeable to the type of him in the anniversary sacrifice upon the
day of expiation, when the high priest was to go with the blood into the holy
place immediately after the shedding of it, and sprinkle it on the mercy-aeat,
for after the blood was clotted it was incapable of being aprinkled. Christ
immediately after his death appears in heaven to receive the acceptation of
his Father. This was in his soul, his body then lying in the grave, whidi
the Scripture calls not an ascension till his soul and body were reunited, and
both went up to heaven together. By this first entrance into heaven -Christ
obtained eternal redemption for us. Had not thia judgment passed from
God of the prevalency of his sacrifice, God had never sent an angel to unlock
the grave, nor a cloud as a chariot to carry him up to heaven. This sup
poseth his sacrifice on earth to be already ratified in heaven. By this
ascension he was again declared, as well as by his resurrection, to be without
sin, without any need of repeating his sacrifice, Heb. ix. 28. His triumphant
entrance into heaven assures us that his sacrifice was admitted into the bosom
of God with infinite delight and pleasure. He could not have had a glory,
* Lawson's Body of Divinity, book ii, cliap, iii. p. 97, much changed.

Eph. Y. 2.] the acceptableness of cheist's death. 561
had he not punctually observed his order. Triumph doth not precede but
follow a victory. Hia going to the Father was a full conviction of the
righteousness of his person and hia punctual discharge of hia office, and the
chief topic whereby the Spirit ahould argue men into a compliance with him,
John xvi. 9, 10, is because he is gone to the Father. Heaven had been no
place for a blemished and imperfect offering. The angels had not been com
manded to be hia adorers, but rather with their flaming swords have chased
him out of heaven ; he could as little have continued there with a spot as
Adam in paradise after his transgreasion. No gift could have been poured
out upon the sons of men.. The Holy Spirit could never have been the pur
chase of an unaccepted sacrifice. He could not have been inveated with a
power to exercise any office in heaven, if he had not executed what he had
undertaken upon earth ; he could not have lived to apply hia aacrifice to ua,
if he had not been accepted in hia offering himself a sacrifice for ua. But
since he sits at the right hand of God, it ia an infallible token of God's abso
lute rest in him, and his own rest from any further travel; it is an argument
of special favour and dearness ; God, hath given him all power in heaven
and earth, ordered all the angels to worship him, and not only to give him
a simple adoration, but to be at his command, his ministers and attendants
in his kingdom." He subjected his whole court to him and his service ; he
bestowed upon him all the honour that was possible to be given him as
Mediator, out of the complacency he had in him as a sacrifice. It was upon
the account that he ' purged our sina ' by himself, that he ' sat down at the
right hand of the Majesty on high,' and had all that dignity conferred upon
him which is afterwards named,. Heb. i. 3. The whole prophecy of it is
called a song of loves, Ps. xiv. (title.) So. highly pleasing it is to God, that
he wUl not cease shooting his arrows till he hath put every enemy under his
feet, that doth not agree with him in his pleasure and delight in Christ, Pa.
ex. 1. Since, therefore, he ia entered into heaven, sat down at the right
hand of God, and maintained the plea of hia sacrifice for so many hundred
years since he ffrst entered his suit, it is a proof that the pleading his death
and the sight of his sacrificed body is not wearisome and distasteful to God.
It is not like a carcase that he desires to be buried out of his sight ; he joy
fully hears the voice of his blood sounding in hia ears to this moment.
Well therefore might the apostle upon this account make so great a chal
lenge to aU : Rom. vui. 33, 34, ' Who is he that condemns ? It is Chriat
that died, yea, rather that is risen again, who is even at the right hand of
God, who also makes intercession for us.' Christ by his death appeased
the wrath of God ; by his resurrection he was acquitted by the justice of
God; by his ascension he took possession of his regal throne ; by his sitting
at the right hand of God he prevalently pleads his sacrifice for the ends for
whioh it was offered, and by his Spfrit applies his- blood to them that believe
in him.
7. The admirable rirtue of this sacrifice eridenceth the sweetness of it in
the account of God. It had a virtue amtecedent to the oblation of it, and
after the oblation it hath a perpetual virtue.
(1.) It had a virtue antecedent to the oblation ofit. God, upon the fore
sight of this sacrifice to be made in due time, did dispense his pardon to
those that rested upon this future sacrifice, and did not stay tiU the satisfac
tion should be made for the injury committed,* but imparted it to men that
hoped in the merit of the sacrifice before the oblation of it, and released the
captive upon the single bond of Christ before the actual payment of the
* Lessius de Perfect. Divin. p, 125.
VOL. IV. ** ^

562 chabnock's wobks. [Eph. Y. 2.
ransom. Upon his promise to be a sacrifice, believers under the Old Tes
tament were saved by the merit of it, as well as those under the new.
Abraham rejoiced to see his day, and was justified by faith in him. When
he appeared, his design was to ' put away ain,' Heb. ix. 25, 26. What sin?
Not only sins committed whUe he was in the flesh, or ains committed after
his ascension, but ains before, even those transgressions which the legal
sacrificea, from tbe time of their first institution, were unable to expiate ;
such sins which the high priest, entering into the holy place every year with
the blood of animals, was not able to wipe off ; and to make that perfect which
the law could not, Heb. vii. 19, and redeem from the transgressions under
the first Testament, Heb. ix. 19. Aa an head appointed by God, he saved
men before hia coming, as Adam the first head ruined men before their birth.
It is not more efficacious now, nor will be to eternity, than it waa before ;
for he is the same, in point of virtue, yesterday, in agea past, as he is to-day,
at present, and will be in the ages to come, Heb. xiii. 8. Whoever were
accepted by God in their persons and serrices were accepted upon the
account of the first-born or head of every creature. As in him all the elect
were chosen, so in him they were all accepted, Eph. i. 4, 6. Faith was from
the firat ages of the world ; the proper object of faith is God in the Redeemer,
and he was not considered by the patriarchs but in that quality in all thefr
sacrifices, since he had changed the government after the fall from God as
creator to God aa redeemer ; and therefore, as all his acta of government
respected the Redeemer and the redemption, so all the aervices of men were
to respect the Redeemer promised. What God did to them was in the name
of Chriat, the angel of his covenant, and what they offered to God was with
an eye to the promised seed, which is the same thing with our doing aU
thinga in the name of Christ, the circumstance of time only being altered,
what was future then being changed into time past now. The ground of
thia waa the agreement between God and Christ for the performance of
this oblation. "When bonda are agreed on, and time given for tbe payment
of the debt, the prisoner hath bis liberty till that revolution of time. Now,
not only the thing to be done, but the time when it was to be done, was
settled between them, caUed therefore a ' due time ' or a stated opportunity,
Rom. V. 6, and the ' fulness of time ;' and till that time there waa to be a
itd^iSig, a relaxation or pretermission, a not charging the debt upon them,
which is the word used by the apostle, Rom. iii. 25, ' For the remisaion of
sins that are past.' Had not this sacrifice had a virtue antecedent to tho
oblation of it, Christ himself in the days of his flesh could not weU have
uttered those worda so often, ' Thy faith hath saved thee,' before he had bowed
his head upon the cross. The removal of sin, the bar to communion vrith
God, upon the credit of a future sacrifice, ia an undeniable evidence how
sweet the expectation of it was to God, and therefore sweet must the actual
immolation of it needs be.
(2.) After the oblation, it hath a perpetual virtue. If the virtue of it be
fore it was offered reached to the firat ages of the world, as far aa Adam and
Abel, it will continue in as excellent a force to the last believer, that shall
close Up the number of the elect at the end of the world. If the blood of
Abel is so efficacious as to procure a perpetual vengeance upon Cain, shaU
not the blood of that person, by whom God created the world, be more effi
cacious to procure a perpetual bleaaing from the grace of God, to which he
ia more inchned than to aets of vengeance ? Though thia sacrifice was but
once offered, yet it works, in regard of its rirtue, perpetually aa a moral
cause. As tbe act of ain ceasing, the guilt and power of sin remaina binding
over to punishment, so, though the act of Christ's offering himself ceased,

Eph. Y. 2.] the acceptableness op cheist's death. ' 563
yet the virtue of it is durable. The blood of this redeeming victim is inti
mated to be an incorruptible blood : 1 Pet. i. 18, ' We are not redeemed
with corruptible things, as gold and sUver, but with the precious blood;' pre
cious because incorruptible ; the opposition testifies it, though it be not the
same expression ; precioua blood is opposed to corruptible thinga. Aa his
body, so likewiae his blood, and the efficacy of hia aacrifice, waa not to
See corruption ; his blood is like the rod of Aaron, always flourishing in
the holy of holies before the mercy-seat. Aaron's rod flourished after
Aaron's death ; the sacrifice of Christ is always fresh and amoking before
the throne of God, producing the fruits it merited, and the grace we want.
This blood is called ' a new and living way,''* as if it were just now shed, or
had been sprinkled upon ua as soon as it streamed out of his body. Since
he is a priest for ever, the virtue of his death abides for ever ; he could not
be a priest for ever without an everlasting sacrifice, for priest and sacri
fice are relatives. If he be a priest for ever, he is a sacrifice for ever ; the
same moment that the virtue of the latter ceaseth, the honour of the former
would shrink away. But that is unchangeable, Heb. vii. 24. His kingdom
cannot be shaken ; his sacrifice, therefore, which was the foundation of his
kingdom, cannot be wasted ; he must cease sitting upon hia throne, fall from
being the Father's darling at his right hand, if the virtue of hia merit, and
the efficacy of hia blood, ahould cease producing the true fruits of it among
his people. Though the oblation was hut once, yet tbe presentation ia per
petual ; he pleada upon his throne what he offered upon the croas. If it
were a wasted thing, it were not worthy of the plea of so great a person as
the Redeemer, nor worthy to be pleaded before ao great a person as the
Judge of all the world. He is, in regard of the continued virtue, not said
to have been, but to be, our propitiation : 1 John ii. 2, ' He ia the propitia
tion for our sins ;' he is, not has been ; he is now sitting in heaven ; he was a
propitiation on earth in hia offering ; he ia a propitiation in heaven in the
presentation of that offering. While his plea is heard, his death is ac
cepted, for hia plea is only the voice of his blood, and the fumes of his
sacrifice. If the gospel must be preached to the end of the world, the vir
tue of his sacrifice, upon which the efficacy of the gospel depends, shall
endure as long as the world endures. This perpetual vfrtue was typified bf
the ashes of the red heifer burned without the camp, which were reserved
. for purifying from legal uncleanness, Num. xix. 9. As the power of the
devil shall never be able to pull him out of his throne, so the power of sin
shall never be so prevalent as to weaken the virtue of his blood. As long
as he remains in a state of life, his blood vrill have its efficacy, because it is
the blood of the everlasting covenant, Heb. xiii. 20. What greater evidence
can there be of the gratefulness of it to God, than its virtue reaching to
the most distant ages of the world, and running through aU the revolutions
~ of time ?
8. It is so acceptable to God, that it is a sufficient sacrifice for all, if all
would accept of it, and by a fixed faith plead it. It is sufficient for the sal
vation of aU sinners, and the expiation of all sina. The wrath of God was
so fully appeased by it, hia justice so fuUy satisfied, that there is no bar to
a readmission into his favour, and the enjoyment of the privileges purchaaed
by it, but man's unbelief The blood of Christ is a stream, whereof aU men
may drink ; an ocean, wherein all men may bathe. It wants not value to re
move our sins, if we want not faith to embrace and plead it. As no sickness
waa strong enough against the battery of his powerful word when he was in
the world, so no guilt is strong enough against the power of his blood, if
* Heb. X. 20, oSoy Tr^irfarat, newly slain.

564 chabnock's woeks. [Eph. Y. 2.
the terms upon which it is offered by God be accepted by ua. It is abso
lutely sufficient in itself so that if every son. of Adam, from Adam himself
to the last man that shall issue from him by natural deacent, should by faith
sue out the benefit of it, it would be conferred upon them. God hath no
need to stretch his wisdom, to contrive another price, nor Christ any need
to reassume the form of a aervant, to act the part of a bloody sacrifice any
more. If any perished by the biting of the fiery serpent, it was not for want
of a remedy in God'a institution, but from wilfulness in themselves. The
antitype answers to the type, and wants no more a sufficiency to procure a
spiritual good than that to effect the cure of the body. He is therefore called
' the Saviour of the world,' 1 John iv. 14. And when the apostle, upon the
citation of that in the prophet, that ' whosoever believes on him shall not be
ashamed,' concludes, that ' there is no difference between Jew and Gentile, but
that whosoever shall call upon the name of the Lord, shall be saved,' Rom.
X. 11, 13; by the same reason it may be concluded, that there is no dif
ference between thia and that man, if they believe ; what ia promised to one
believer, as a believer, is promised to all the world upon the same condition.
And when the apostle saith, ver. 9, ' If thou shalt confess with thy mouth
the Lord Jesus, and believe with thy heart, thou shalt be saved,' he speaks
to every man that shall, bear that sentence. If any man believe, thia sacri
fice is sufficient for his salvation. As Adam's disohedience was sufficient to
ruin all his posterity, descending from him by natural generation, so is this
sacrifice sufficient to save all that are in Christ by a spiritual implantation.
The apostle's comparison would not else be valid : Rom. v. 18, ' As by the
offence of one judgment came upon all men to condemnation, so by the
righteousness of one the free gift came upon all men unto justification of
life.' And if all men in the world were united to him by faith, there could
not be any more required of Christ for their salvation than what he hath
already acted ; for it is a sacrifice of infinite value, and infinite knowa no
limits. Since it was sufficient to satisfy an infiuite justice, it is sufficient to
save an inexpressible number ; and the virtue of it in saving one, argues a
virtue in it to aave all upon the same condition. Who will question the
ability of an almighty power to raise all men from death to life, that hath
raised one man from death to life by the speaking of a word ? If men,
therefore, perish, it is not for want of value, or virtue, or acceptableness in
this sacrifice, but for want' of answering the terms upon which tbe enjoy
ment of the benefits of it ia propoaed. If a man will shut his eyes against
the light of the sun, it arguea an obstinacy in the person, not any defect in
the sun itself.
9. The effects of this sacrifice shew the acceptableness of it to God. As
the effect of Adam's disobedience demonstrates the blackness and strength of
his sin, so the fruit of this sacrifice evidenceth the efficacy of it. Had it not
been sweet to God, we had still been in our sins. He was to perfect hia
people, which had been impoasible, had he not been perfect himself in his
sufferings. If he hath ' perfected for ever them that are sanctified,' then that
sacrifice whereby he did perfect them is fully complete, Heb. x. 14.
(1.) Remission of sin. Our lives by our rebellion were a debt to the vio
lated law ; when we transgressed the precept, we incurred the penalty. This
debt is discharged to believers by Christ's offering hia soul in our stead, a
sacrifice for sin, a rescue for our souls. He took away sin as the Lamb of
God, John i. 29 ; as a sacrificed lamb, for the analogy relates not to a
lamb as a creature, but a lamb as a sacrifice. He took away the sin of the
world;'* the guilt of sin, the curse of God, whatsoever belongs to the eternal
* Chemnit. in loo.

Eph. V. 2.] the acceptableness op cheist's death. 565
wages of sin, he transferred upon himself There is a perpetual virtue ia
its nature, he took, aa when we aay a drug purges, we signify not only the
act, but the natural quality of it. The apoatle concludes the efficacy of this
oblation from God's remembering sin no more : Heb. x. 16-18, 'Their aina
and iniquities I will remember no more ; now, where remiasion of those ia,
there is no more offering for sin.' The completeness of the fruit discovers
the judgment of God for the completeness of the merit upon which it is
founded. Himself, therefore, after his resurrection, givea hia apostles com
mission to publish this as the fruit of his death, to let men know that the
way to heaven, in the removal of the bar, was secured by the blood of Jesus,
John XX. 22, 28 ; Luke xxiv. 27. All the Bacrifioes, wherein there was a
daily remembrance of ain, were abrogated aa useless after this offering, which
surmounted the efficacy of all the legal ones put together. They expiated
ceremonial uncleanness, and the pollution of the body ; this, moral ini
quities and the filth of the soul. Heb. ix. 13, 14, the apostle instanceth in
the most solemn offering, that of the red heifer, supposed to be of a more
durable efficacy than the daily offerings, since the ashes of it were reserved
for a purification for sin. Num. xix. 9. But this, much more the rest, were
exceeded by this offering, that purged the conscience from those ' dead
worka,' that bound the soul over to eternal death. And, indeed, the cere
monial act of the high priest, in aprinkling the blood of the heifer directly
before the tabernacle, ver. 4, intimated that the efficacy of it was to be
derived from the flesh and blood of Christ, typified by that structure. By
this we gain a plenary indulgence, so as to have ' no more conscience of
sin,' Heh. x. 2. Not that there is no more sin in believers, or no more
sense of sin, but no more accusations and charges of sin before God, or
despairing aervile thoughts for sin in their own consciences ; for in his blood
we have redemption, the forgivenesa of sins,' Eph. i. 7. Upon which account
a challenge is made by the apostle to all the believers' adversaries to bring
an effectual charge against them, Rom. viii. 33, 34. It frees ua not from
one or two sins, but vast numbers of them : 1 John i. 1, ' The blood of
Christ cleanseth us from all sin.' So that all the powers of hell can never
lay the load upon them again ; for this aavea to the uttermost, covers their
iniquitiea, and biota them out as a thick cloud. ' Death is swaUowed up in
victory,' the destruction and condemnation by sin ; '0 death, where is thy
sting ?' i. e. where ia sin ? that is the sting of death, 1 Cor. xv. 54, 55.
And, indeed, so acceptable to God was the first undertaking of our Saviour,
that God promised him this as the fruit of his suffering, that his labour
should not be in vain ; that he should ' aee his aeed ;' that ' by hia know
ledge he ahould justify many, when he bore their iniquities,' Isa. liii. 11.
And, therefore, when the apostle saith, the old man is crucified with Christ,
he understands that the destruction of the body of death, and the remisaion
of all the extravagancies of it, is purchased by Christ at the hands of God,
Rond. vi. 6. And all the sense we have of remission, from any ordinance,
especially by that of the supper, is not from the ordinance itself, or the
remembrance of this aacrifice ; but from the perpetual and prevailing efficacy
of it with God to this day. The removal of so great a weight from the soul,
which we were unable to bear, so great a curse which we were unable to suf
fer, shews the high acceptableness of it with God.
(2.) The confirmation of the covenant. After sin had stepped into the
world, and invaded the rights of God, the first covenant became utterly
unprofitable for the relief of man. God makes a new one, which was not
signified to be valid to any without sacrifice. It is not unlikely that the
first declaration of it to Adam, in the promise of the seed, was accompanied

566 chabnock's woeks. [Eph. Y. 2.
with the sacrifices of beasts, both to shew to him a token of that punish
ment he had merited at the hands of justice, and in what a bloody way his
recovery was to be accomplished. The repetition of it to Abraham was
confirmed by sacrifices. Gen. xv. 18. And the solemn covenant between
God and the Israelites was confirmed by sacrifices, and the blood of them
called by Moses, ' the blood of the covenant,' Exod. xxiv. 5, 8, i. e. a type
of that blood whioh ahall be shed for the confirmation of that blessed cove
nant whereby the soul shall be purified from sin. And by the institution
of God this seems to be essential to a covenant with God : Ps. 1. 5, ' My
saints that have made a covenant with me by aacrifice.' And this custom
was used by the heathens in their leagues and solemn contracts between
nations, and in covenants between their gods and them, which descended to
them probably by tradition from the first parents, though they had lost the
true intent of that tradition. All this reapected the confirmation of the
covenant of grace (succeeding in the room of that violated covenant of
works) by the blood of the promised seed, whereby man waa to be repaired,
and the devil defeated. Hence is God so mightily affected with the engage
ment of Christ to be our surety, that he presently estabUsheth the covenant
of being their God, and making them his people : Jer. xxx. 21, 22, ' Who
is thia that hath engaged his heart to approach to me, saith the Lord ? Ye
shaU be my people, and I wiU be your God.' This is the immediate issue
of this engagement. To this purpose was he given to be a witness of the
everlasting covenant, Isa. Iv. 3, 4. And to this his sacrifice had an imme
diate respect, whence the blood that merits the striking off the chains of the
prisoners, and taking away the bara, is caUed ' the blood of the covenant,'
Zech. ix. 11. And Christ, in the inatitution of the supper, Luke xxii. 20,
caUs it ' the new testament in his blood,' i. e. the true blood shed for the
ratification of the covenant, which was only typified by the blood of aU
former sacrifices. And ' for the remission of sins; ' thia only ia mentioned,
though other benefits besides this flowed from the covenant, because as sin
was the foundation of all evil, so pardon of sin is the fountain of all good.
Had other blessings been merited without this, a bar had been put to our
enjoyment of them by the want of this. Upon this first link aU other
blessings in the chain of happiness depend. All the promises of God, which
are branches of this federal engagement, are yea and amen in Christ, of an
infallible certainty. He himself is ' the Amen, the faithful and true witness,'
Rev. iii. 4. And to this purpose is the sacrament of the supper appointed,
being the perpetual representation of this sacrifice, wherein God shews him
self resolved to stand firm in the covenant, which was confirmed by the
cross, and make good to a believer all the branches of it. Thia manifests it
to be highly acceptable to God, since the covenant made juat after the un
profitableness of the old is upon the account of this sacrifice ratified by God
(as the sure mercies of David) in aU the parts of it, to all the mdigencies
and highest satisfaction of every believer.
(3.) Restoration of peace, and intercourse with God. Man was upon
the terma of enmity with God, hating him, and being hated by him. God
hates men, not as creatures, but as sinners. Man hates God, not as God, but
as sovereign and judge. Man turned off God from being his Lord ; God turned
off man from being his favourite. Therefore Christ in respect of this sacri
fice is caUed iXas/iog, 1 John ii. 2, our propitiation, and iXaSTrj^m, Rom. hi.
25, aUudmg both to the sacrifices and the place of the sprinkling the blood.
As ' he was bruised for our iniquities, the chastisement of our peace was upon
him,' Isa. hi. 5. And though he was reconcihng us aU his life, yet it is
principally ascribed to his sacrifice in his death. Col. i. 21, 22. AU that

Eph. V. 2.] the acceptableness op cheist's death. 567
Christ did in his life had not heen available for us, had he not added the top-
stone in the shedding of his blood ; and therefore in the creed there is a
transitus, and leap from his birth to his death, all intermediate a,ctions of
his life being omitted, because that was the great work whereby it was
finished. Access to God was barred up, till the way was opened by the
blessed Son of God, Heb. x. 19, 20. So much is God pleased with it, that
his majesty condescends to the lowest step, to aolicit his apostate creatures ;
and miserable man is admitted to importune God, not only with hopes, but
assurance of his favour, and an happy success upon the account of this
expiatory aacrifice. God hath laid aside the rigours of his justice to beseech
us with the bowels of his mercy ; and tore down the partition wall that
hindered hia deplorable creature from an access to him, and hereby given
ua a full evidence what an inestimable fragrancy aacended from this sacrifice
before him, aince he did not only blot our sins out of the records of hia
juatice, but restore us to his forfeited favour, and confer upon us the privi
lege of children, and converse with man as an object of his love, who before
had rendered himself the mark of hia wrath.
(4.) The miasion of the Spirit. God first sent Christ to be an acceptable
sacrifice to him, and to testify his high valuation of it, aent the Spirit in hia
name, or upon hia account, to be an abiding comforter to us. Had not the
sin which firat drove the Spirit out of the world, been expiated according to
the mind and will of God, he had not revisited the world, but left it in its
original darkness. His first mission and all his consequent operations, are
the fruita of this aacrifice. Though he was sent by the Father, yet sent ' in
the name ' of the Son, John xiv. 26, aa a fruit of God's acceptation of him.
His name had been of no prevalency for ao great a gift, had not his death
heen firat of a grateful savour with the Father. Had he not gone away, the
Comforter could not have come to us, John xvi. 7, which refers not only to
his ascension, but to his passion ; and had he gone, and his death been
unapproved of, the Spirit had stayed in heaven Nor would the Spirit have
been employed to bring things to our remembrance, whioh were not worth <
our remembrance to our comfort, if they had not been first worthy of his
Father's acceptation. He was not to ¦ speak of himself John xvi. 13, i. e.
he was not to publish a new doctrine, but impress what Christ as a prophet
had taught, and what Christ as a prieat had acted. He would not have been
sent to act upon a weak foundation, and to propagate that which had not
exactly answered the will and design of God He was to glorify Christ
(John xvi. 13, 14) i. e. tp declare the efficacy of his death. Christ had not
been a fit subject to be glorified in the world, had he not in the administra
tion of his office glorified God, and been glorious in his eyes. And since he
is an abiding Spirit, his perpetual inhabitation manifests the perpetual
savour of this sacrifice ; for since the first acceptation of it was the cause of
his coming, the perpetual fragrancy of it must be the ground of his abiding.
He could no more abide, if there were an interruption bf its sweetness, than
he could first have come had there been a defect of sweetness in it. This
sacrifice did not only procure the coming of the Spfrit, but hia coming with
the most glorious things in the possession of God : John xvi. 15, ' All
things that the Father hath are mine : therefore said I, He shall take of
mine, and shew it unto you.' All the things that the Father hath; the
greatness of the Comforter, the fulness of the treasure, and bis perpetual
abiding with these" rich gifts, are full evidences how much God is pleased
with this offering. As God could not testify hia good wiU to man in a higher
manner than aending his Son to be a sacrifice for him, so he could not in a
Ijjgher manner testify his delight in that sacrifice, than to send so great a

568 chabnock's woeks. [Eph. Y. 2.
person as the Holy Ghost to be a solicitor to men to accept of it, and a
Comforter to those that beheve in it ; the thir^ person in the blessed Trinity,
to preserve the honour of the oblation of the second. God would never have
been at tbe expense of so great a gift, to keep up the credit of a person and
sacrifice wherein he had no pleasure.
(5.) The acceptance of our peraona and aervices. His delight in this
sacrifice is the ground of the acceptation of every person accepted by him ;
it is ' in the beloved' that every one is ' accepted,' Eph. i. 6. Not beloved
simply as his Son, the aecond person in the glorious Trinity, but beloved as
a sacrifice ; for he waa beloved as he was a medium for the praise of the
glory of the grace of God, which was not aa he was a Son by eternal gene
ration, but as he assumed our nature by his incamation, and off'ered it to
God by his passion. The Trinity had been blessed, if man had not been
created, and had been blessed, if revolted man had not been redeemed, and
not a.,spark of grace shot out upon the world. Therefore, in the following
ver«e, this, as well as the other parts of redemption, is ascribed to his blood/
Had not Christ been first accepted as an oblation of infinite value, neither
the persons nor services of men, abounding with guUt and filth, eould have
been worthy of the notice and entertainment of God. Our acceptation is
the fruit of the acceptation of the offering Christ made of himself The
pleasure God takes in his obedience to death makes believera as his mem
bers, and their, services as sprinkled with his blood, delightful to God ; upon
which aooount, the last time, wherein this victim waa to be offered, ia called
' the acceptable year of the Lord,' Isa. Ixi. 2, ' and the day of vengeance of
our God;' an, acceptable time, when it was the day of vengeance upon sin
in tbe auffering of the ainner's surety.
(6.) The joya and peace of conscience. By his bonds he procured our
liberty, by his condemnation our absolution, and tasted of the vengeance of
God, to fill us with the delights of the Spirit.* As God had a rest in his
acceptation of it, so he gives ua a joy and peace in our believing it, which is
the acceptation on our parts, answering to the acceptation on God's part,
Rom. XV. 13. This is accompanied with a repose to the conscience, a
silencing our fears, and a filling with a 'joy unspeakable and full of glory.'
These gifts God doth most plentifully distribute, when we are deepest in
sufferings for the acknowledgment and approbation of this sacrifice ; it is
then Stephen «haU see the heavens opened, and behold Christ at the right
hand of God; have a senae how highly God values that in heaven which
wicked men reproach, and believers suffer for on earth. Acts vii. 55 ; then
it is that a ' spu-it of glory and of God rests upon them,' 1 Peter iv. 14.
God eats not his morsels alone ; he impresseth a joy in the hearts of his
people when they are -either publicly witnessing to this blood, or privately
acting faith in it, or celebrating the memorials of it ; when we eat our spirit
ual meat with ' singleness of heart,' God doth accompany it with ' glad
ness,' Acta ii. 46. Every beam of paradise, darting into the heart at such
seasons, is a token of its sweet savour with God, and an assurance of God's
valuing ua, for valuing that whioh is so much the object of his delight. Man
only stands in a posture for such spiritual viands, when he is in an exercise
of an estimation of Christ, in imitation of that esteem God hath of him ; this
is the best savour to God, next to that of the oblation of his Son.
(7.) Bestowing of the glory of heaven upon this account. The restoring
men to that eternal salvation they had lost, is a certain proof of the strength
of this sacrifice. As soon as Christ was ' made perfect by suffering, he
hecame the author of eternal salvation to all that obey him,' Heb. v. 9.
* Drelinoourt.

Eph. Y. 2.] the acceptableness op cheist's death. 569
Nothing can be a higher demonatration to the senae of the creature of God's
eateem of this victim, than his admission of poor creatures to reside with
him for ever to behold and enjoy his glory. By this we have liberty to enter
into the holy place ; not only a license or bare permission, but a right of
purchase, whence it is called a ' purchased possesaion,' Eph. i. 14, a right
of donation aa a fruit of his delight in Christ : Rom. vi. 29, ' The gift of
God through Jesus Christ.' Justice, that barred heaven, is aatisfied, and
God consented to a preparation of manaions in paradise, instead of dungeons
in hell, that his enemiea might become the heirs of hia kingdom. So agree
able to God is the odour of this sacrifice, that God is not only content to
free us from the hell we had merited, but he would also open for us the
heaven we had forfeited, that we might be partakers of the glory and king
dom of hia Son ; not only deliver us, but perfect us ; not only cross our
debts that entitled us to prison, but impute a righteousness to entitle ua to
glory ; stop the mouth of hell, and open the gates of heaven. Hence we are
said to be ' raised together with Christ,' viz., by the gloi7 of the Father, as
he was to ' sit in heavenly places with Christ,' by the donation of the Father,
as^ he did, Eph. n. 5, 6 ; the meaning of which is, that by those acta of
raising up and exalting to glory his sacrificed Son, he hath sealed to every
believer the perfection of regeneration in a possesaion of glory for ever. The
satisfaction God hath in the value of this offering, cannot give forth itself in
fuller expreasiona than in our aalvation by the virtue of it, everything for
midable and burdensome being removed, everything great and glorioua be
stowed, juatice vrith all its vengeance appeased, the law with all its retinue
of curses silenced, sin with all its demerits expiated, the covenant with all
its benefits ratified, peace with its blessings restored, the Spfrit with all its
treasures, bestowed, our services purified from their filth, our consciences
pacified from their fears, whatsoever ia grievous abrogated, the veil of the
temple, with all the heavy weight of ceremonies, rent in twain, hell quenched,
and heaven prepared and furnished for all that imitate God in his valuation
of this sacrifice.
Quest. What was it that rendered thia sacrifice acceptable to God, and
efficacious for us ?
Ans. 1. The dignity of his peraon. That whioh ia inferior cannot be the
rest andfsatisfaotion of a superior nature ; nothing but infinite, therefore,
can be the rest and satisfaction of an infinite being. The holiness and good
ness of any, or of all creatures, could not render a sacrifice worthy of the
acceptance of God. The holinesa of a creature was not infinite, to answer
the infinite evil of sin, and suit the infinite holiness of God, any more than
the weakness of a creature oould have rendered him strong enough to endure
the strokes of an infinite justice. Since the heavens are not pure in the
sight of God,* and the angels, if compared 'with him, are not free from
vanity. Job xv. 15, iv. 18, it is necessary that he in whom God doth rest
should excel, not only the dignity and perfections pf angels, but tbe condi
tion of any finite being. If the holy angela cannot be the rest of God, be
cause of their natural mutability abstracted from the establishing grace of God,
much less can man, who is filthy, and drinks iniquity like water ; for what
soever dignity might be considered in his person to commend the sacrifice,
might be considered alao in his crime to aggravate the guilt. But the dignity
of this person was solely to be regarded in the offering, because he had no
crime to be greatened by the oonaideration of it, being offered, not for any
sin of hia own, but for the ains of othera. , This aacrifice was of infinite
value, and therefore worthy of the acceptance of an infinite nature ; his
* Amyrald. de Trinit. p. 245.

^70 chabnock's woeks. [Eph. Y. 2.
person was of as great a dignity as the Father's, to whom he was offered.
Though there be a distinction of order between the three persons, yet not of
dignity ; he had no peer but God, for he was equal with him ;* had equalities
of perfections with God, was every way equal to the party offended ; so that
he is called God's fellow, one of the same nature with him ; a man as
striekei; Jjy the sword, yet his fellow as considered in his divine nature,
Zech. xui. 7 ; meant of Christ, part of the verse being applied by Christ to
himaelf, Mat. xxvi. 81 ; his fellow, though man, yet not as man ; in whom
' the fulness of the Godhead ' dwelt, Col. n. 9 ; not typically, aa in the
sanctuary and most holy place, nor mystically, as in believers, but personally,
as his flesh was the proper flesh of the second person. Hence that name
that is pecuhar to the essence of God is ascribed to him : Jer. xxiii. 6, ' He
shaU be caUed the Lord our righteousness.' Jehovah, the incommunicable
name of God ; he, that righteous branch whom Jehovah should raise up,
ver. 5, shaU be called Jehovah ; he that ia raised up is Jehovah, as well as
he that raised him ; the glorious name of God would not have been ascribed
to a simple man. He was in the form of God, before he took upon him the
form of a servant, and laid not aside the form of God, when be made him
self of no reputation, and in that disreputed state became obedient to the
death of the cross ; upon thia account, hia aacrifice is more worthy of ac
ceptance than the sacrifice of aU creatures. As the mediation of a prince is
far more noble than that of a peasant, and the head of a king of greater
value than that of a subject, the person of one David was more worth than
ten thousand of the common Israehtes, 2 Sam. xviu. 3 ; and as the person
of Christ, so the sufferinga of that person, are of more worth than the souls
of aU men, and their bodies too, cast into the scale.
The dignity of Christ thus appearing, let us see how his sufferings are
dignified by the greatness of his person.
(1.) His sufieringa were partly finite, partly infinite. They were finite in
regard of the time of duration ; finite, in regard of the immediate subject
wherein he suffered, his human nature ; which, being a creature, could no
more become infinite, than it could omnipotent, omniscient, or eternal. But
in regard of tbe person who suffered, the sufferings were infinite ; the deity
being in conjunction with the humanity. That which is finite in regard of
time, and in regard of the subject, may be infinite in regard of the object.
As the sin of a short minute, and the sin of a finite creature, in regard both
of the time when it is committed, and the person guilty of it, is finite; but
in regard ofthe object, God, whose glory is echpsed, it is an infinite evU.
As the greatness of an offence is to be measured by the greatness of the
person whose honour is invaded; as the striking a king ia capital, when
the striking an ordinary man falls under a smaU pecuniary mulct ; so the
value of a satisfaction is to be measured by the excellency of the person
satisfying. As therefore an infinite sin deserves an infinite punishment,
because it is committed against an infinite God, so the sacrifice of Christ
deserves an infinite acceptation, because it is offered by an infinite person.
The subject sacrificed makes the sacrifice infinitely grateful ; as well as the
person offended renders the injury infinitely heinous. This was not the
sacrifice of a man or an angel, but of the head of the creation, ' the bright
ness of God's glory, and the express image of hia ^person,' Heb. i. 8, by
which hia sufferings were advanced into infinity, and' the merit of them an
infinite odour before God. There could not have been so much honour ren-
^^'^,^*^^°'^ by the obedience of a mere creature, aa there waa injury
offered him by the transgression of the sinner.f Though our sins were not
* Philip, ii. 6. t Amyrald. de Trinitate, p. -265.

Eph. V. 2.] the acceptableness of cheist's death. 571
infinite in number, because no number can increase so vaatly as to be actually
infinite, since it is composed of units added to one another ; yet had they
been far less, they had needed an infinite virtue in the aacrifice, by reason
of the infinitenesa of their guilt, because the majesty of God and his perfec
tions are infinite, which are dishonoured by sin. Such a sacrifice this is,
which hath an infinite virtue of expiating.
(2.) This infiniteneas ariseth from the near and strait union of the divine
with the human nature. It was not the simple offering a sacrifice by the
Son of God which was so acceptable. Had the Son of God offered anything
else, though the offerer had been infinite, yet the offering had been finite,
because not allied to, and in conjunction with, the person offering. It was
infinitely valuable, not because himself was the offerer, but because himself
w^ the offering, offering that which was in conjunction with his deity,
' purged by himself,' Heb. i. 8. ' Offered himself up through the eternal
Spirit,' Heb. ix. 14. By the personal union, the dignity waa conferred upon
the sufferings of his human nature. If you will say, a sacrifice had been
infinite, only because it was offered by an infinite person, you may as well
call the meanest worm in the world infinite, because it was made by an in
finite God, and in an infinite manner of operation. The dignity therefore
ariseth from the unity of the same infinite person, in whom the two natures
were united ; so all the actions of Chriat, aa mediator, received their value
from his person. And by reason of the unity of his person, that which was
the act of one nature is attributed to the other, aa when it ia said, John
iii. 13, 'The Son of man came down from heaven ; ' i.e. that person who
was man, though his human nature had not been in heaven. And when his
¦blood ia called ' the blood of the Son of God,' 1 John i. 7, and ' the blood of
God, ' it was not the blood of the Godhead, but of that person who was God.
(3.) In regard of this near conjunction, the Godhead of Christ did influ
ence every mediatory action. (I do not take in all the actiona of the human
nature, that had no respect to his meditation, any more than as they did refer
to the sustentation of his human nature, aa his eating, drinking, sleeping,
&o.) This value was as inseparable from his sufferings, as the divine nature
was inseparable from the human. In all that he did, he was the Son of
God ; as much upon the cross as before his descent from heaven ; in the
lowest pitch of his humiliation, as well aa in his highest state of exaltation ;
the Son of God as much, when at his death he said, ' It is finished,' as after
his resurrection, when he said, ' all power ia given to me.' The man against
whom the sword did awake, was God's fellow when he felt the piercing edge
ofit, Zech. xiii. 7. Indeed, he laid aside the manifestation of his glory,
but could not lay aside his glory ; for then he might lay aaide his eternity,
omnipotency, his deity, and cease from being God, which is utterly impos
sible. He was always the same, and aa hia years, so neither did his glory
faU, Heb. i. 12. In all hia sufferings he retained the relation and reahty of
the Son of God, the union of his natures remained firm in all his passions ;
and therefore the efficacy of tbe Deity mingled itself with every groan in his
agony, every pang and cry upon the cross, as well as with the blood which
was shed ; and as his blood waa the blood of God, Acts xx. 28, ao his groans
were the groans of God, his pangs were the pangs of God, and were there
fore subjectively infinite in value. Yet did not every groan and pang procure
our redemption by itself, upon the account of the infiniteness of its value in
being the groans of God, because they without death did not answer the
tenor of the law, nor was the curse of the law, which he was deaigned to
endure, accomplished in any act of,auffering, without ahedding of blood, and
that to death : Heb. ix. 22, ' Without shedding of blood there is no remis-

572 chabnock's woeks. [Eph. Y. 2.
sion ; ' for as there was a neceasity of the conjunction of the divine nature
with the human, to make hia sufferinga infinite, so there was a necessity of
a full conformity to the threatening of the law, and his Father's order, to
make them efficacious for the honour of God and redemption of the creature.
The aum ia this : as what the divine nature acted was wrought instrumentally
by the human, ao what the human nature acted or auffered waa made
efficacious, and dignified by the divine.
(4.) In this respect God his deity may be accounted as it were suffering,
or aa if he suffered. It was not necessary his deity should suffer to make
the sacrifice infinite, and indeed it was impoaaible. The divine nature is as
impassible aa it is immutable ; yet in regard of the strait union of the two
natures, his mediatory actions and sufferings, being the actions and suffer
inga of the person, may be counted as the sufferings of the iTeity itself in a
moral way, and by legal estimation ; as sin is called Deicidium, not that it
is ao, or can be ao physically, but in a moral way, in men'a doing that which
puts on the nature of destroying God, were it in the power of the sinner, or
possible in itself; or as sin in Scripture is called a wearying of God, whan
omnipotency cannot be tired, and if God were tfred, he were not omnipotent.
But they carry themselves so towarda God, as would weary the most patient
man in the world, and it is esteemed by God a wearying of him. As Christ
was not guilty of sin, but in a juridical manner, by reason of hia voluntary
subjection to punishment in the stead of tbe sinner, so neither could the
divine nature suffer but by way of estimation, aa the person of the Son of
God did voluntarily assume the human nature wherein he was to auffer. As
Christ hung upon the cross as if he were guilty, so the divine nature in con
junction with it might be esteemed to suffer, as if it were passible ; the Deity
did suffer in an eclipse of its glory, and veiling the manifestation of it.
Hence, aa he had a body, his blood was the blood of a man, yet because it
was the blood of his person it was the ' blood of the Son of God,' 1 John
i. 7, and the ' blood of God,' Aots xx. 28 The immediate subject suffering
was the human nature, but the person suffering was the Lord of glory,
1 Cor. ii. 8. In that state and condition he offered up himself which the apos
tle signifies : Heb. ix. 14, ' He offered up himself through the eternal Spirit.'
Aid, through, imports not only that the dirine nature of Christ did offer the
sacrifice, but it seema to have the same sense as the same word S;a, Rom. iv. 11,
' The Father of them that believe, though they be not circumcised,' iid
dx^o^udTiag, The Father of them that believe through uncircumcision, i, e. in
an uncircumcised state,'* or Rom. ii. 27, ' who by the letter and circumcision
dost transgress tbe law,' hid y(6.(ijiuaroi, through ; not that circumcision-|- was
the cause of the one's faith, or uncircumcision f the cause of the other's sin,
but that the one believed, and the other transgressed in those several states.
So Christ here, when he offered himself was not in the condition of a mere
man, but had a divine and etemal nature in tbe offering himself up unto
God. It is from this atate and condition of his in his suffering, that the
apostle draws an argument for the value of his auffering above those of the
legal sacrifices, and their excellency to purge the conscience, and put the
emphasis of a how much more? The very foundation of our redemption by his
blood is his being the image of the invisible God : Col. i. 14, 15, 'In whom
we have redemption through his blood, who ia the image ofthe invisible God.'
(5.) Hence it follows, that the sufferings of this person, because of his
dignity, were equivalent to an endless duration of punishment, because the
infiniteness of the peraon did more than recompense the shortness of the
* Amyrald, in loo. et do Trinit, p. 268.
¦j- Qu. ' uncircumcision,' — ' circumcision ' ? — Ed.

Eph. Y. 2.] the acceptableness of cheist's death. 573
duration of his punishment. As the dignity of his person did outweigh the
persons of all the angela, and all men in the world, had they been without
spot, so the time of his sufferings, though the moments of enduring them
had been fewer, in regard of bis greatness, was equivalent to the eternity of
the sufferings of all creatures ; becauae it was more that God ahould suffer
one minute, than that all creatures in heaven and earth should endure tor
ments to an endless eternity.
(6.) Hence it follows, that in regard of the dignity ofhis peraon, he was
not only equivalent, but superior to all thoae for whom he waa a sacrifice,
and to all for which he was a sacrifice. The aacrifice was as noble as the
sin was, vile, and offered hy an hand more honourable than the persons, by
whom the crime was committed, could be unworthy. The dignity ofthe
person waa greater than the meanneaa of the offender could be base. The
sin could not be more infinitely evil than the person satisfying was infinitely
excellent. What an infinite object suffered by the offence, was made up by
an infinite subject expiating the crime. The dignity of his person is the
reason why his righteousness hath a sufficiency in it for all ' unto justifica
tion of life,' Rom. v. 19, 20. He is superior to all that were to be redeemed
by him out of every kindred and tongue, people and nation, because he is
God blessed for ever. The oblation is greater than the offence, and the
offerer than the transgreasor. What wrath so infinite, that the blood of an
infinite God cannot calm ? What death so aharp and atrong, that the life
of God cannot remove ? It ahould be no leaa a cordial to us than it is a
aavour to God, to think that our aacrifice is as infinite as the wrath we had
merited, and more infinite than the sin whereby we had deserved it. Our
sin was objectively infinite, as committed against God ; our sacrifice was
objectively infinite, as offered to God, proportionable to the honour he would
have repaired ; and subjectively infinite, in regard of the sacrifice offered for
the reparation of it. God regarded him as the man hia feUow when he
struck him ; we should regard him in the same relation when we plead him.
To conclude, since this victim was equal with God, equal with him in essence,
equal with him in nature and perfections, he could not be displeased with the
sacrifice, unlesa he had been displeased with himself and his own nature.
2. As the dignity of the person, so the purity of the sacrifice renders it
fragrant to God, and efficacious for us. Hia freedom from taint, and con
junction with the fulness of the Deity, are linked together in demonstrating
the efficacy of it to purge our consciences from dead works : Heb. ix. 14,
' Who through the eternal Spirit offered himself without spot.' He was as
free from blemish as full of an eternal Spirit. The spotlessness of his human
nature was necessary to his being a sacrifice, and the union of the divine
nature was necessary to his being a valuable one. As the legal lambs were
to be without blemish, so was Christ a ' Lamb without spot,' 1 Peter i. 19.
He had no sin naturally imputed (juridically indeed he had), no sin per
sonally inherent ; he had no sin naturally imputed, because he was not in
the loins of him who introduced sin into the world, and derived it to hia
posterity. His extraordinary conception by the Holy Ghost in the womb of
the virgin was a bar against original sin ; whence by way of emphasis he is
called ' that holy thing,' Luke i. 35. He was infinitely holy as he waa God,
habitually holy as he was man. Every faculty of his soul, every member
of hia body, was elevated to the highest degree of hohness. His human nature
was holy by the union of the divine, holy by the effusion of the Spirit, whose
office it is to sanctify. Though by reason of the divine nature united, it
was impossible but that his human nature should be holy (the person of
the Son of God would never have assumed a tainted nature), yet th'e holiness

574 chabnock's woeks. [Eph. Y. 2.
of his human nature did flow from the stores of the Spirit, it being not the
office of the second, but third person, to sanctify. But the human nature in
conjunction with the divine oould not but be pure. Had that been tainted
while in union with the divine, making but one person, the taint might
have been called the sin of God, as well as the blood of his body be called
the blood of God. A thing therefore not to be imagined possible. He was
holy in every action. As he was man, he was bound to all sorts of obedi
ence ; for having taken the nature, he was subject to all the duties incumbent
on that nature ; and he did run through every economy, he observed the law
of nature, conformed to the ceremonial part of the Mosaic institutions, sub
mitted to the baptism of John, a mid state of the church, and therein ' ful
filled all righteousness,' Mat. iii. 15, the righteousness of the positive laws
of God in every state. He was holy in all his offices, harmless as a priest,
faithful as a prophet ; holy in hia life, holy in his death, no guile was found
in his mouth, no inordination of murmuring in his heart. Had there been any
spot (which is impossible) his sacrifice could not have been for onr sins, it
must have been for his own ; if his own debt could have been paid by it,
ours could not; his spot had been infinitely greater than oura can be; it
had been objectively infinite as ours, and subjectively infinite, whichis more
than oura. The rights of God had been more invaded, instead of being
repaired ; the guilt would have been as great in the sinner as the satisfaction
could have been in the sufferer ; a subjective infiniteness in the sin, as weU
as a subjective infiniteness in the sacrifice. But there was not, there could
not be any of this ; Satan could not charge him with any, but confessed
him holy, Mark i. 24. The all-disceming eye of God could see nothing con
trary to his honour, but justified him as holy, Heb. vii. 26. Impurity had
been contrary to the dignity of his person. God could as well be unholy as
the person of Christ unholy. His holiness therefore was infinite, though the
holiness of his human nature was not of itself infinite, no more than his
sufferings were of themselvea, and in regard of the human nature, the sub
ject suffering, infinite ; yet the holiness of hia human nature derived from
it an infinite value, so that there waa an infinite holiness in this aaerffice
offered to an infinitely holy God. It had no stain to be purged by the
addition of another bloody offering. It anawered the design of God, ter
minated the reat and delight of God. Needs then must such a holiness be
highly acceptable to God, who loves and is delighted with righteousness in
this creature, much more with that of his only Son, the unatained and
infinitely pure sacrifice for us.
3. The graces exercised in this sacrifice, rendered it fragrant in the ac
count of God.
1. His obedieiice. The acceptablenesa of it to God did not arise simply
from his dying, but his obedience in his death : Philip, ii. 8, ' Became obe
dient unto death ;' and not only from an obedience to the law of nature, and
the precepts of God as a creature, but his obedience to the law of redeeming
love as a mediator, and hia delight in it. Pa. xl. 8. As the disobedience of
man shook the reat of God, so the obedience of the Son of God aettled the
rest ofthe Deity. Obedience run through the whole web of hia life, he sub
mitted to a body fitted for thoae dreadful atrokes of wrath we should have
endured ; a body made under the law. Gal. iv. 4. He dehghted in the
thoughta of performing the will of God in our fleah"; he came not to do his
own will ; whatsoever his Father ordered him, that he spake, that he did,
that he suffered, he laid down hia body when the hour was come appointed
by his Father. It was not a simple but an affectionate obedience : John
xiv. 31, ' I love the Father, and as the Father gave me commandment, even

Eph. Y. 2.] the acceptableness of cheist's death. 575
so do I ;' where principally his obedience to the mediatory law is intended ;
as also, Philip.! ii. 8, ' Obedient to the death of the cross,' whioh the law
did not oblige him to ; the moral law bound over the sinner to death, but
the mediatory law bound over Christ to death in our stead. The obedience
to the moral law, or law of nature, as it concerned the state of angels, was
performed by him without any defect ; in this the obedience of Christ was
greater than theirs, in regard of the infinite dignity of hia person above all
the angela in heaven ; yet the rule of their obedience was of the same nature.
But in the obedience of the mediatory law, the Redeemer stood single ; as
he trod the wine-press alone, so in the whole mediatory work none were in
conjunction with him, none had any likeness or resemblance to him. This
was above the obedience of all creatures, not only in regard that it was the
obedience of him that was God, but an obedience wherein he could not be
imitated by any creature already created, or that could be created, it being
a work above the strength of any created being. It was obedience under
the highest provocations to resume his glory, and come down from the cross,
and declare at that moment the iniquity of thoae reproaches they cast upon
him. Obedience in the highest pitch of his sufferings, obedience in heaven,
practiaing that compassionate obedience upon the throne which he learned
by his sufferinga on the cross, Heb. v. 8, acting according to his Father's
orders, presenting his obedience on the cross, as meritorious for his mem
bers he left in the world. If the obedience of Abraham, a sinful creature,
in hia willingness to offer up his son Isaac, a sinful creature also, was so
pleasing to God that thereupon he makes him glorious promisea, how
much more grateful is the obedience of him who was God, and offered not
up a son, but himaelf, a pure, not a spotted aacrifice ! If obedience be
better than sacrifice, then sacrifice is insignificant without obedience. The
offering himself a sacrifice according to the wUl of God for our sanctification,
was the most significant part of his obedience, Heb. x. 7, 10. In thia he
did exactly answer the mediatory law as his rule, and God found the will
of Chriat in the performance, fully conformable to his own will in the pre
cept, more obedient to the will of God in his offering, than Adam was dis
obedient to the will of God in hia ainning. Such a height and perpetuity
of obedience, under all the circumatances of temptations, the stragglings of
the fleah, wliich could not but desire the removal of penal evil, under the
fear of wrath alao, the aense of agonies, and reproaches of men, whereby he
testifled, that he preferred the glory of his Father above the safety of his own
nature, obedience to his command above the contentment of his flesh, and
waa awayed by the form of a servant to submit, against the suggestions from
his nature aa a man to desire the passing it away ; all this, I say, rendered
his sacriflce highly acceptable.
(2.) His humihty. His humility is joined with hia obedience as the
cause of his exaltation, which waa the evidence of ita fragrancy, PhUip. ii. 8.
God loves to be imitated in his condescensions to his creature. The con-
descenaion of Christ equal with God, to the ' taking upon him the form of a
servant,' setting himaelf in the stead of the ainner, the eolipaing hia own
glory, shrouding it under the diaguise of our fleah, submitting to an harder
piece of service and a deeper humihation than any creature" in heaven or
earth was capable of; to descend from heaven to earth, expose himself to
the fury of men and devUs vrithout murmuring ; to bow his head to the
stroke, not of an honourable, but an infamous death ; endure the wrath of
a Father he loved, come down to the lowest step before he did reassume
the glory which was due to him, was an unexpressible and unimitable act
of humihty. Lower than this he could not humble himself Since humility

576 chabnock's wobks. [Eph. Y. 2.
rondel's men ao pleasing to God, that he heaps upon them the greateat testi
monies of his favours, and richly dispenseth to them the doles of his grace,
James iv. 6 ; it muat render his Son in those sufferinga most acceptable to
his Father, and draw from him the greatest distribution of his favour, be
cause it was the greatest act of humility, as weU as obedience, that could
possibly be performed.
(8.) His faith. This reaolution of trust he brought with him, and this
resolution he kept : Heb. ii. 13, ' I will put my trast in him,' cited out of
Ps. xviii. 2. He had not a spark of infidelity, or any grain of distrust in the
goodness of God. He suffered for a time the torments of hell, without the
despair of tbe inhabitants of hell ; he had a working of faith under the sense
of bis Father's greatest displeasure, and confided in his love while he felt the
outward and inward force of his frowns. The sharpness of the scourge, and
the smart of his wounds, beat not off hia aoul from a faat adherence tp him.
He had a faith of the acceptableneaa of hia death for his elect, and gave
evidence of his confidence in the promise for a happy and glorious success,
in acting like a king while he was hanging aa a malefactor on the cross, in
distributing his largesses to the poor thief, assuring him, that that day he
should be with him in paradise. He let not his confidence in his Father
fiinch ; he confided in him for the bestowing that royal power upon him,
which he signified by this promise of paradise to this criminal upon the
cross : and 'both his obedience to God in not turning away his back, and his
trust in God for his assistance, are put together as the ground of his justi
fication, Isa. 1. 5, 7, 8. The height of hia faith waa to be diacovered in opposi
tion to the unbelief of Adam ; his humility in opposition to the pride of Adam ;
his obedience in doing all according to God's order, in opposition to the
disobedience of Adam. By his active and passive obedience, he glorified the
holiness and justice of God ; by his humility, the sovereignty and power of
God ; by his trust, the faithfulness and veracity of God :~ all which must
needs render his sacrifice aa a sweet-smelling savour, and efficacioua for us.
4. In regard of the full compensation made to God by this sacrifice, and
the equivalency of it to all the demands of God. His obedience was fully
answerable to the law : his active answered the preceptive part, and hia pas
sive the penalty. As he fulfilled the righteousness ofthe law in hia life, so he
underwent the threatenings of the law in his death ; he obeyed the commands
in our stead, and sustained the curse. He bore the sorrows we should bear:
Isa. hii. 4, ' Surely he hath borne our griefs, and carried our sorrows,'
spiritual as weU as bodily. He took our nature, soul and body, to suffer in
that nature what waa due to our soula and bodies. Our whole nature had
sinned, and our whole nature must suffer ; Christ took our nature, that he
might suffer what was due to our nature. He suffered in his soul, which is
the greatest part of our nature, as well as in his body, which is but tbe case
and sheath of the soul. It is against the order of justice, for the principal
to sin, and the accessory only be punished. The punishment threatened
against the first Adam was the death of the soul as well as of the body ; the
punishment borne by the second Adam was of the same nature : not a
spiritual death, a separation from God by sin, that he was incapable of but a
moral death, a separation from God by desertion. When he cried out, 'My
God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me ?' he waa foraaken of God in re
gard of the sensible comforts of his presence, though not in regard of the
invisible sustentationa of his soul. The union of the two natures waa not
dissolved, but the comfort of the Father's preaence was echpsed. Though .
he did not suffer eternity of torments, yet he suffered what was due to us ;
for eternity of punishment is not primarily threatened in the law, but second-

Eph. Y. 2.] the acceptableness op cheist's death. 577
arily inferred. Death was threatened, but because man cannot satisfy by
death, therefore he lies under that death for ever. He is kept in prison,
because he cannot pay the debt which is due, nor repair the honour of the
law which was violated. Justice would always be striking, and never con
tented. If the honour of the law oould have been rindicated, and the justice
of God satiafied by the temporary groans of a creature, not only the good
neas of God, but the justice of God would release him ; but because the
justice of God could never have been satisfied, the person of the sinner must
always have been a sufferer. Christ, therefore, suffering, a cursed death,
suffered what we should have suffered ; death was threatened to us, and death
was inflicted on him; the eternity of death was accidental. As Christ
obeyed the whole law, yet not every accidental relation of the law, as it
respected men in particular states, and particular callings and relations ; as
the duty of a parent to a chUd, of an husband to a wife ; not for want of a
principle of obedience in him, but for want of those particular relations to
which those particular acts of obedience were annexed. So Christ suffered
every part of the curae, but not the ains conaequent upon that curse by
reason of the corruption of man, nor the accidental continuance of the cm-se,
which the impotence of man to satisfy rendered him obnoxious to, but the
strength of Christ exempted him from. He endured all that the law imposed
upon sinners,* whether in regard of loss by desertion or in regard of sense
by malediction; hence he is said to be made a curse. Gal. iii. 13; to be
rnade sin, 2 Cor. v. 21. And if so, he bore the punishment due to us,
since the law threatened no more than a curse, and Christ bore the curse
according to the threatening of the law. He suffered that which the law
demanded of us, and was made such a curse as the law required. He
Buffered the torments of heU without the iniquities of heU, which were not
possible to be committed by an inflnitely holy person ; he suffered those
agonies whioh were of the nature of the torments of hell, and that desertion
of God which is the sting of hell. Nothing was omitted that was demanded
by divine holiness for keeping the commands, or by divine justice for violat
ing the commands. As we were creatures, we owed God a debt of duty ; as
we were revolted creatures, we owed God a debt of punishment. Since our
fall, sin hath made us incapable to answer the hohness of God in the per
formance of our duty, and our nature as creatures renders us too weak to
satiafy the justice of God by enduring the penalty exacted by the law. Christ
hath done both ; and in answering the whole demand of the law, as to both
debts, delights the holinesa of God, satisfies the justice of God, and by both
repairs the creature. If the creature could have satiafied justice for what
was past, yet it still lay under a debt of duty for the time to come. If it
had faUen short of this, it must have reassumed its auffering. What a
deplorable condition had this been, to have come out of suffering one hour
and return to it the next ! But our Redeemer performs an obedience that
reacheth to the utmost of the creature's duty, and endures a penalty that
reaches to the utmost of the creature's demerits. A recompence was made
by the obedience of Christ for the disobedience of Adam : Rom. v. 19,_ ' As
by one man's disobedience many were made sinners ; so by the obedience
of one shall many be made righteoua.' For what had the law to enjoin
which he did not perform, or what had the law to inflict which he did not
endure ? Had he not done and suffered what the law required, how oould
he be caUed the ' end,' or perfection, ' of the law for righteousness' ? Rom.
X. 4. Had he not suffered what waa due to ain, he could not have ' made
* Turretin. de Satisfact. p. 324.
VOL. IV. O 0

578 chabnock's wobks. [Eph. Y. 2.
an end' of it ; and had he not done what the law commanded, he could not
have ' brought in an everlaating righteouanesa,' Daniel ix. 24. He is Xurgov,
Mat. XX. 28, dvrlXvTgov, 1 Tim. ii. 6, a valuable price and aacrifice, commen
surate to the demerit of our crimes. He suffered whatsoever was requisite
to discharge our debts, and could not have been avrZ-vJ/uj^os, offering hia aoul
inatead of ours, if he had not borne in hia soul what we were to bear in ours.
In regard therefore of the full compensation made to God, it muat needa be
fragrant to God and efficacioua for us.
5. In regard of the glory Christ by his sacrifice brought to God. The
glory of God waa that whioh he aimed at, and that which he perfected. It
was the will of God whioh he came to do; but the design of God's will is
to glorify himself, and declare his own name in all his acta. The glory of
all the attributes of God appeared in the face or manifeatation of Christ,
2 Cor. iv. 6. They all centred in him, and ahone forth from him in all
their brightness, and in a full combination set off one another's luatre ; not
only in his incarnation, but alao, and that chiefly, in hia aacrifice. Mercy
could not be glorified unlesa justice had been satisfied, and justice had not
heen evident if the tokens of divine wrath had not been upon him. Grace
had not sailed to us but in the streams of his blood : ' without blood there is
no remission.' Justice had not been so fully known in the eternal groans
of a world of creaturea, nor could sin have appeared so odious to the holi
ness of God by eternal acara upon devils and men, as by the deluge of blood
from the heart of this sacrifice. Wisdom in the ^contrivance had not been
evident without the execution. The glory of the divine perfectiona had lain
in tbe cabinet of the divine nature, without the discovery of their full beams ;
and though they were active in the designing it, yet they had not been de
clared to men or angels, without the bringing Chriat to the altar. By the
stroke upon his soul, all the glories of God flashed out in the view of the
creature. When Judas went out from hia company to prepare the way for
his oblation, ' Now,' saith he, ' ia the Son of man glorified, and God ia glori
fied in him,' John xiii. 31. The honour of God and tbe glory of the Son
depended upon thia point, and in this last act threw off all their veils. The
Father was glorified in appointing him, and the Son waa glorified in sub
mitting to be a aacrifice ; the truth of God was glorified in bringing things
to a period, and the obedience of his Son was glorified in hia peraeverance
to the last act. His grace was elevated to the highest note in the aongs of
angels, an unsearchable depth of manifold vrisdom was unfolded, a depth of
vrisdom more impossible to be comprehended in our minds than the whole
globe of heaven and earth in our hands ; such a wisdom of God in the cross,
which the angels never beheld in his face upon his throne ; 'wisdom to cure
a desperate disease by the death of the physician, to tum the greatest eril
to the greatest glory, to bring forth mercy by the shedding of blood. The
ultimate design of this victim waa the honour of God in our redemption ;
Christ sought not his own glory, John riii. 50, but the glory of his Father
in the salvation of men. Needs must that be fragrant to God that accom
plished the triumph of all his attributes.
III. Use.
1 . If thia sacrifice be acceptable to God, it is then a perfect oblation. If
it had not been perfect in itself, it could not have been accepted by an infinite
justice, a justice inexorable without it. An incomplete offering could have
given but an imperfect satisfaction, and that had been as good as no satis
faction at aU. God would never have approved it ; an all-seeing wisdom
CDuld not be deceived, a severe justice could not have acquiesced in it, a
pure holiness could not have smelt a sweet savour from it. God as a

Eph. V. 2.] the acceptableness of cheist's death, 579
judge delivered him to be a sacrifice, God as a judge accepted him after he
was offered. Thia sacrifice therefore answered the enda of God, both satis
fied hia justice and glorified his holiness. How could God elae judicially
glorify him, if he had not been fully glorified by him ? If he had performed
an imperfect obedience, he would at the best have had but an half exaltation,
or rather none ; but since he hath been accepted with the highest pleaaure,
and hath a glory in the highest pitch, he hath performed an obedience to
the utmost point, and touched the goal designed him. Though there was
grace in God'a appointing it, yet there waa no grace given out to make it
acceptable. God did not supply by hia acceptation any defect in the aacri
fice. There waa a meritorious worthiness on Christ's part before there was
an acceptation on God's part ; it was not perfect by acceptation, but it was
accepted because of its perfection. Infinite purity accepts nothing but what
ia perfect in itself, or hath a relation to that whioh is perfect and agreeable
to its nature. He doth indeed accept the imperfect obedience of believera,
but not for itself, but for thia aacrifice, to whioh by faith it hath a relation.
Had it not had a gratefulness in itself, God could have scented nothing in
it ; he could not have smelt a savour where none was ; it would have been
aa little pleasing to him as the burnt- offerings under the law. This could
not but he perfect in the account of God, aince there was the humanity in
conjunction with the dirinity to be the sacrifice, and the divinity in conjunc
tion with the humanity to be the altar for the aanctification of it ; and the
sequel shews that the offering hath been aa valuable as the offence was pro
voking, since in consideration of it, justice forgets the injuries done to the
Deity, and treats believers as heirs of heaven, instead of rebels. It is the
inference the apostle draws from the priesthood of Christ, Heb. viii. 12; and
what ia the fruit of his prieathood, is the fruit likewise of his aacrifice. The
righteousness of Chriat is also perfect, since the all-searching eye of God sees
nothing in it to give him any cause of distaste. It is perfect because ever
lasting, Daniel ix. 24. AU the righteousnesa of the holy angels in heaven,
had there been numberless millions of them, had not been ao pleasing to God
as this.
. 2. All popish doctrines of satisfaction, and all resting upon our own
righteousness and inherent graces, are to be abandoned. There is a natural
popery in the minds of men ; fallen man ia desirous to stand upon his own
bottom, and is as little content with God'a judgments of thinga as hia firat
parent waa in paradiae. We are studious of making God compensations,
applauding ourselves in our own inventions and satisfactions of our own
minting, unwilling to acquiesce in his wisdom.
(1.) This is an high presumption. If Chriat were a perfect sacrifice in
the esteem of God, it is a boldness and blasphemy in iis not to think him so.
If it be perfect, what need of anything from us to piece it out? If it were
not sufficient, God was much mistaken to accept it ; if it were not perfect,
Chriat had a want of atrength and holiness to be a sacrifice, and God a want
of wisdom to discern the defects of it ; he was then deceived to count that
sweet which needed something else to sweeten it. Such additions are an
injury to Christ ; it is to make him but half a sacrifice, since he hath
' offered himaelf to God without apot,' Heb. ix. 14. Can we pretend to any
other, without charging him with weakneas and deficiency ? Is not his
divinity enough to make his offering complete, without any supply from our
corrapt humanity ? Can we acknowledge that perfect, that we think needs
something from us to strengthen.it ? It must be, then, a false assertion of
the apositle, when he saith, Heb. x. 14, that ' by one offering he hath per
fected for ever them that are sanctified.' To make Christ in part a Saviour

580 chabnock's wobks. [Eph. Y. 2,
is to make him in part no Saviour, and to ascribe salvation to something else
as well aa to him. All such satisfactions entrench upon the honour of Christ's
sacrifice, and pull the crown from his head to set it upon our own ; or at beat,
ascribe that in part to ourselves which is wholly due to him : by how much the
more sufficient it is for us without any addition, ao much the more glory re-
dounda to the aacrifice. He needs no more of additions to sweeten his offer
ing, than he.,needed of cordials to strengthen and support him in the time of
his sufferinga ; they are rather gall and vinegar offered him upon hia throne,
as the Jewa did in the time of his oblation upon the croaa. It ia an high
presumption in us not to be content to rest in that which is the rest and
pleasure of God.
(2.) It is a folly. It is aa if a man should set up candles to increaae the
light of the sun, and eke out its beams. Can the righteousness of a man
add any perfection to the blood of a God ? or perfect a work which could
not be done by the Deity ? If God stood not in need of anything from us to
perfect his work of creation, how oan man be so foolish to imagine that
Christ stands in need of anything from us to perfect his work of redemption?
If that aacrifice wants something to render it efficacious, it must be a sacri
fice of the same kind ; nothing that is of an inferior nature can add an in
trinsic value to that which is superior. What can man offer to God that
can be in any sort equivalent to this sacrifice afready accepted ? AU that
we can offer to God is but as a few blasted ears of corn, such as Pharaoh
saw in a dream, which oan add nothing to the value of it. If there had been
any failure in him, tbe defecta of a redeemer could not be repaired by the
offerings of the captives ; and if there be no failure, all additions, all other
inventions of atonement, are utterly superfluous. How foolish will it be to
rest in that which God never pronounced or owned to be a sweet-amelhng
savour to him ! If all our righteousness be as a menstruous rag, Isa. Ixiv.
6, the offering it up to God is a noisome stench, not a pleasure. The best
of our worka and graces derive a sweetness and value from the virtue of this
sacrifice, without contributing anything to the aavour of it. It is a folly to
leave a sure for an uncertain road. All other rests have no divine stamp and
signature upon them. God never found any savour in any other offering.
The Spirit of God never gave any so noble a character as this, of a sweet-
smelling aavour, but as they had a relation to thia as the antitype of them.
This one victim sends forth more grateful odours to God, and ia more effi
cacious for the concerns of our aouls, than the joint intercessions of aaints
and angela. Let us therefore be dihgent in our duties, aim at the perfection
of an inherent righteousness, but never place our confidence in them, or
equal them to the aacrifice God hath ao affectionately accepted. Did God
ever set up hia reat in the services of a creature ? Can this be savoury to an
infinite purity ? Whatsoever is done without faith is but the offering of an
enemy, whatsoever fair colours it may be outwardly adorned with. Th6
Scripture seta an impossibility upon the head of all these : Heb. xi. 6,
' Without faith it is impossible to please God ;' to gain or keep his favour.
Whatsoever is done without faith, though of the highest elevation, is but a
creature, and therefore not the object of trust. 'And whatever significancy
believing worka have, is from the tincture they receive from the blood of
this sacrifice, wherein faith dips them, as being faith in the blood of Christ.
Though Adam, while he continued in his created rectitude, might have
entered his righteousness as a plea, yet, because it waa mutable, it had been
no iit object of truat for him. But since our revolt, all pleas of a fieshly
corrupted righteousness are overruled in the court of heaven, and our pleas
must run in another name ; all other things have ceased to be savoury to

Eph. V. 2.] the acceptableness of cheist's death. 581
God, since they were tainted by sin. Let men 'make lies their refuge,' and
' hide themselves under falsehood,' the falae coverings of their own righteoua
ness, and think to shelter themselves ' from the overflowing scourge,' Isa.
xxviii. 15-17 ; it will be a miserable self-deceit ; ' the haU will sweep away
such a refuge, and the waters will overflow such a hiding-place.' All other
hiding-places, but the smoke of this sacriflce, are too Weak to preserve us
from the overflovring waters of dirine vengeance.
3. It is.a desperate thing to refuse this sacrifice, which is so sweet to God.
(1.) It is a great sin. As faith in Chriat redounds to the honour of God,
as being an approbation of his mercy, justice, and wisdom in the acceptance
of this sacriflce, so unbelief redounds to the contempt of God, as slighting
aU the pleasure the wisdom, the juatice, and holiness of God took in it, as
though he were delighted with a sleeveless and unworthy matter. It is to
trample npon that which is God's dehght; accounting that which is sweet to
the Deity loathsome to us ; refusing to be guided by God's judgment of this
offering ; setting up our own wisdom not only equal with, but above the
wisdom of God ; a regarding that whioh God is infinitely pleased with as a
frivolous thing, as though God had pleased himself vrith a trifle, or smelt
sweetness in a weed. God's acceptation of it owns a fragrancy in it ; man's
refusal calla it gall and vinegar, a rotten service. God'a language is, 'This
is my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased,' Mat. iii. 17 ; this ia my
odoriferous sacrifice, with which I am infinitely delighted. The" language of
an unbeliever's heart is. This is an offering in which I can find no pleasure.
The heart of God and the heart of an unbehever, the wisdom of God and
the judgment of an unbeliever, stand in direct opposition. How inexcusable
a pride is it to think that not worth our receiving 'which God hath entertained
with the highest affection ; to count that unsavoury which God hath ac
cepted aa the aweetest preaent can be given him in heaven or earth ! Un
belief cannot be excuaed without accusing God of weakness and folly. It ia
a sin against his precept, as he commands us to believe ; a sin against his
pattern, as he dfreets us by his own act to an acceptance of him. Other sins
are against his sovereignty in the violations of his law. This is against his
vriadom in hia gracious acceptation of a propitiating sacrifice for us. We
disown him as our Lord, and as our pattern.
(2.) It vriU end into a great misery. God wiU not suffer that which is
sweet to him to be slighted by man, without the recompence of a just indig
nation. The vagabond nation of the Jews bears to this day the sad tokens
of God's vengeance upon them for the unworthy refusal of so great a victim.
' Because of unbehef they are broken off' from the root, Rom. xi. 20, and
are deprived of all the sweetness which God and believers taste in it. No
thing in the world was ever the object of God's delight but this ; nothing in
the world can ever be pleasant to him without this. To neglect it, is to
neglect that which is the only thmg God wiU accept, and so faU under the
condemnation of law and gospel too; It is to reject God as a satisfied judge
in the flowings of his mercy, to fall under God as a provoking judge in the
thunders of his wrath. If we -will not comply with divine justice in an
estimation of it, we must faU under his fury for our contempt. If this
offering be not cordially, and upon God's terms, accepted by us, we muat be
a sacrifice ourselves ; justice must have a sacrifice for every sinner, from
himself or another. God, in honour, wiU not pardon sin without one ; in
greater honour he cannot but punish sin upon the refusal of this. Oh how
fearful a thing is it to faU into the hands of the hving God : '* a hving
unpacified God, a living and reproached God, a living God who hath been
* Heb. X. 81, compared vrith ver. 29.

582 chabnock's woeks. [Eph. V. 2.
counted a ridiculous fool by a wUful sinner, in his accounting the blood of
the covenant as an unholy thing! God vrill not have his vrisdom jostled
against by the folly of his creature. ' No other sacrifice remains for sin.'
No other mark of distinction was appointed by God for the securing the
firstbom of the Israelites from the stroke intended for the Egyptian hefrs*
but the blood of the paschal lamb aprinkled upon the posts of the doors ;
had any fed upon the lamb, and neglected the sprinkling, he had felt the
sharp sword of the deatroying angel ; the lamb had been of no efficacy to
him, not for any defect in that, but negligence or contempt in the offender.
The sacrifice of Christ hath an infinite virtue to save ; but it is no remedy
to them that will not sprinkle their souls by faith with the blood of it ;
without this, we shall remain in our unatoned sins, and have the sword of
vengeance doubly whetted against ns.
4. It administers matter of comfort to tbe believer. It ia some comfort
to all, that they are in a fair way of being happy ; the juatice of God was
the bar to God and man's meeting together. It was morally impossible, in
regard of God's truth and holiness, for man to be restored without a vindi
cation of that law which had been broken ; but now the honour of the law
is restored by thia sacrifice ; God hath owned it, the bar is removed, and
where God hath found a sweetneaa man may find salvation, if he be not his
own enemy, and vrilfuUy cast away his own mercy. He ' gave himself a
ransom for- all,' 1 Tim. ii. 5, 6, drnXurepv, a ransom in our stead, or a
counter-ransom, in opposition to the sin of Adam, the fountain of our bon
dage ; for all upon gospel conditions. Aa he gave himself for all, so he was
accepted for all upon the same conditions ; for he waa accepted as he gave
himself It is a comfort to a diseased hospital, that a physician is chosen
and accepted by the governors that is able to cure every disease ; it is no
less a comfort to a guilty soul, that there is a sacrifice sufficient to expiate
every ain. But there ia a ground of sensible comfort to those that beheve.
If when Christ walked upon the waters, and was labouring in the floods of
affliction in the days of hia humiliation, he bid hia disciples not to fear, how
much more may we expel fear from our beheving hearts, since he is sat
down upon his throne, and the whole merit of his sacrifice graciously ac
cepted ! Let us represent to ourselves this crucified, but now crowned
victim, lying in the bosom of his Father, represent to ourselves the Father
full of delighta, rejoicing in the viewa of this sacrificed body, drawing a per
petual stream of pleasure and sweet smells from the fumes of this sacrifice
rising up continually before bim ; may not thia calm our feara, since it
smooths the frowns of divine juatice ? Did the people shout when the ark
returned? and ahall onr hearta be full of feara when our sacrifice is returned
to heaven, and hath found a gracious reception from that justice we had so
highly provoked ? A disconsolate carriage in an holy believer imphes as if
God had rejected it as mean and weak, rather than received it as perfect and
glorious ; a heavy walking is a disparagement to the greatness of the sacri
fice, and the wisdom and judgment of God the accepter of it. If we should
' eat our bread vrith a merry heart,' because ' God hath accepted our works,'
Eccles. ix. 7, much more since God hath accepted our victim, by whose
merita our duties and works amell sweet, that before smelt rank by nature.
We should therefore draw as much sweetneaa from thia aacrifice for our
souls, according to our measures, as God did from it for hia own content and
satiafaction ; it appeased God's fury against us, and should banish our
jealousies of God.
(1.) If once acceptable to God, then it is for ever acceptable ; if once
* Daille, sur 1 Cor. v. 7, Serm. x. pp. 394, 395.

Eph. Y. 2.J the acceptableness of cheist's death. 583
sweet, it IS always sweet. God cannot be deceived in his estimations, nor
¦change his value of it, nor can the sacrifice ever become noisome. The
strength of the divine nature, that rendered it at first grateful, preserves its
savour for ever ; he died to offer it, and livea to preserve the vfrtue of it,
Rom. V. 10. The fragrancy conferred upon it by the deity in conjunction
with the humanity, is as durable as the deity itself: Heb. x. 11, ' He sat
down on the right hand of God,' after he had offered himaelf a sacrifice, to
exerciae the office of a prieat. God would have the prieat and sacrifice for
ever in hia sight. Hia prieathood is for ever, his sacrifice therefore is for
ever sweet. Without a sacrifice he could not be a priest. Aa his priest
hood hath a perpetual vigour, so his sacrifice hath a perpetual freshness
and inexhaustible virtue ; for the exercise of his office depends upon the
continuance of the offering. The blood of this sacrifice is not compared to
a pond, or water in a vessel, though of the largest capacity, but to a living
and ever-running fountain : Zech. xiii. 1, ' A fountain set open for the house
of David'.' Repentance was hid from the eyes of Christ in offering it for a
ransom from the power of the grave, and a redemption from death, Hosea
xiii. 14, and no less is repentance' hid from the eyes of God in accepting it.
The covenant sealed by it is everlasting, and derives its duration from this
blood of the victim, Heb. xiii. 20, the rirtue of it endures as long as the
covenant ; aince if that failed the covenant would expire, the auperstructure
not being able to stand if the foundation be rotten. And from hence an
everlasting righteousnesa is derived, that our peraons, odious by Adam,
may be beautiful by Christ. At the same time that he made reconciliation
for iniquity, he brought in everlasting righteousneas, Dan. ix. 24 ; at the
aame time therefore that God accepted that reconciliation, he accepted that
everlasting righteouaneaa for security and justificatSon. He hath not pacified
God for a few days or years, but for ever, Heb. x. 14. If it were so sweet
in the expectation as to be the ground of the justification of those that hoped
for it, it is much more sweet aince the oblation, and of a stronger efficacy.
He is the captain of the salvation of all the sons that are brought to glory,
and that believe. Himself was ' made perfect through sufferings,' Heb.
ii. 10. The twenty-four elders confessed themselvea ' redeemed by thia
blood,' Rev. v. 8, 9 ; the patriarchs that died before him, aa well aa the
apoatles who expired after him ; he waa a lamb, a sacrifice, ' alain from the
foundation of the world,' Rev. xiU. 8. Not in regard of decree* (that were
a jejune sense of the place, aa it would be to say, a man were dead from the
foundation of the world, because it waa appointed for him once to die), "but
in regard of efficacy and a mystical sprinkhng of hia blood upon thoae that
lived at the beginning, as well as thoae that shall live at the end of the world.
If it had a savour with God for those that lived before him, it hath much
more a savour for those that have lived since his actual offering and acceptation.
(2.) From this ariseth pardon of sin. He waa a aweet savour as he
offered himaelf, and in the enda for which he offered himaelf He was a
sacrifice for sin ; for so those worda tso/ df^agrlag, Rom. viii. 8, which we
translate and for sin, must be understood and read thus, 'And by a sacrifice
for sin condemned sin in the flesh.' If offered for sin, and accepted as an
offering for sin, the consequent of this must be remisaion. Through the
blood of that beloved whom he accepted, ' we have redemption, even the
forgiveness of sins,' Eph. i. 6, 7 ; not of one, or two, or a few aina, but all ;
he was made sin indeflnitely, all kind of sin in the extent, as much made
ain as he was made accursed ; as he bore all the curse, so he aatisfied for
all sin, the greatest as well as the least ; so that the blood of this sacrifice
* Daill6, Serm. sur Ps. ox. 1, p. 409.

584 chabnock's woeks. ¦ [Eph. Y. 2.
' cleanseth from all sin,' 1 John i. 7, where gospel dispositions are found ;
from all that from which the law of Mosea could not justify ; Acts rin. 39,
' And by him all that believe are justified from all thinga, firom which you
could not be justified by the law of Moses.' 'What was impossible to be
done by the sacrifices of the law, is completely done by the offering of the
Redeemer. The strength of this is directly opposite to the weakness of the
other ; that could not really justify from any, and this is able to justify
from all. As it waa not over-valued by God, ao it cannot be overbalanced
by sin ; since the judgment of God hath passed upon it with an approbation,
the monstrousnesa of guilt is not too great for an expiation. 'Whatsoever
our sins are, yet they have their limits ; but God's infinite pleaaure in the
sacrifice speaks the merit of it infinite, and the efficacy of it etemal. All
sins were at once laid upon the head of this offering, Isa. hii. 7 ; he suffered
but once, and therefore at one time all sins by one act were laid upon his
shoulders, 1 Peter ii. 24, ' he bore them his own self,' and God accepted
him his own self and accepted him as he bore them, and glorified him,
becauae he purged them, Heb. i. 3. So that though he did but once offer
himaelf, and that for aU sins in the bulk, he was received with a welcome,
as if he had offered in particular for every sin; and therefore there is no
more need of an offering, but a recourse to that one price. To think it is
not able to expiate all sin, is to undervalue the judgment God hath given of
his Son, to charge him vrith a mistake, and to imagine that there is more in
sin to ruin than in this sacrifice to repafr.
(3.) Hence then there oan be no condemnation to them that are in Christ.
The apostle laya down this conclusion, and confirma it by the reason of his
being a sacrifice, Rom. viii. 1, 8. They who are presented by Christ,
quickened by the rirtue of this sacrifice, cannot fall under the stroke of
divine juatice. If it waa offered for those that should believe, it was accepted
for such aa should believe, it being accepted for the same peraons, and the
same ends for which it was offered, and therefore those persona fundamentaUy
accepted in the acceptation of it, and the enda for which it waa offered,
granted, and concluded on in the act of acceptation. The apoatle upon this
score breathes out a challenge to all to bring a condemning charge against
him ; the justice of God, the curse of the law, the charges of conscience, and
the accusations of devils may be all answered by this : Rom. viii. 33, 84,
' It ia Chriat that died, it is God that justifies.' It ia Christ that is offered,
and God that accepts. Justice cannot condemn ; for though his aacrifice
was sweet and pleasant to all the perfections of the divine nature, yet justice
was the peculiar object of it. God as a judge delivered him, God as a judge
accepted him : justice required it, and justice is disarmed by it ; justice only
was to be contented ; mercy required no blood ; wisdom stepped in to decide
the controversy, and make an agreement. If the condemning attribute be
satisfied, there is no condemnation to be expected. If it be sweet to justice,
justice cannot refrain its former frovras ; justice cannot be pleased with that,
and diapleaaed with thoae for whom it was offered and accepted, and by
whom it ia received. It is part of our happiness that we come not only to
God as gracious, but God as a judge, ' To God the judge of all,' Heb. xii. 23.
Aa Chriat was made sin for us, so are we made righteous by him. He was
made sin to undergo a condemnation, that we might be made righteous and
be above a condemnation. It is more efficacioua to divert the aword of dirine
juatice from the beliering offender, than the blood of the paschal lamb was to
turn the edge of the angel's aword from the house of ap Israelite. The blood
of Chriat sprinkled cannot be of less force than the blood of a ailly lamb, since
the efficacy of it was not as it was the blood of a lamb, but the blood of a

Eph. V. 2.] the acceptableness of cheist's death. 585
type, deriving its rirtue not from the subject whence the blood was drawn,
but from the person signified, and the aacrifice prefigured by it. WeU then,
his condemnation hath procured our absolution, and God's acceptation of
him hath insured our liberty ; the sweet savour of the sacrifice hath over
come the stench of our sins. Though God forsook him for a time, he hath
now accepted him, that he may not abandon us for ever ; neither the wrath
of God nor the malediction of the law ia to be feared. God by this one act
hath stopped the course of his vengeance, and laid aaide the thundera of
Sinai. The flames we have deserved are quenched by the blood flowing
from the wounds of this victim ; the amoke of our sacrifice shadowa us, and
in God's acceptance of him every believer finds his infallible absolution.
(4.) Here is a sufficient ground for peace of conscience. This only can
give a repose to our spirits, turn our fears into hopes, and our sorrows into
songs. If it were a sweet savour to God, whose infinite knowledge was
acquainted with the least mite, as well as the greatest mountain, in the num
ber of our sins, and whose hohness found an infinite loathaomeneas in our
iniquities ; if it thus contented God, it may settle the agitation of our spirits ;
and because it stiUed fury in God, it may sUence troubles in us ; if it gave
God a dehght, who in the knowledge of our sins, loathing of them, and con
demning of them, is ' greater than our hearts,' 1 John in. 20, it is a ground
of peace to us, who come infinitely short of God in knowing our charge,
infinitely short of his holiness in loathing our guilt, and infinitely short of
his justice in condemning ourselves. That whioh hath been a sweet savour
to pacify God, wanta not a savour to appease our consciences. Our great
inquiry is, in troubles of spirit, how shaU we appear before God ? The
answer from this doctrine is, in the smoke of this sacrifice ; the impurities
of our natures, the sin of our soula, and the mixture in our services are
purified by this. The sweetness of this sacrifice hath sweetened the terrors
of the Lprd, and rendered man a welcome supplicant to that God, before
whom he durst not formerly appear.
(5.) Here is a full ground of expectation of all necessary blessings. God
accepted it as it was offered ; it waa offered not only aa a propitiating, but a
purchasing sacrifice, and the acceptance of it waa in the aame quality wherein
it was offered, Acts xx. 28. His blood was a purchasing blood ; he pur
chased a people for heaven, and purchaaed heaven for hia people ; he did not
only silence justice with its wrath, but merited heaven with ita riches, and
shed hia blood aa a price for the pleasures of paradise. God judged this
sacrifice not only enough to free man from misery, but instate him in happi
ness ; not only to deliver our souls from the pit, but to enlighten us with the
light of the living. It was valued by him as a fuU compensation for the
wrongs he had sustained, and a full merit for the blessings we wanted.
When he found this ransom, his voice was not only ' Deliver him from going
down into the pit,' but ' I will make his fleah fresher than a child's ; ' a
strength and rigour of grace shall be restored in him, as the radical moisture
in a chUd ; ' He shaU return to the daya of hia youth, he shall pray to God,
and God wiU be favourable to him, and he shaU see hia face vrith joy,' Job
xxxiii. 24-26. The laraehtes addreased to the propitiatory, not only for the
pardon of their sins, but the conferring of other bleaafrigB ; this is the blood
ofthe covenant, and therefore procures for ua the blessings ofthe covenant.
The blessings we want are often in the gospel ascribed to the merit of this
sacrifice, and not simply to the grace of God. The grace of God appointed
the sacrifice, but the blesainga we receive were merited by it ; our victim
waa so pleasing to God, and the obedience in it so full of an infinite love to
him, that he ^gained by it the affections of God, and a grant of whatsoever

686 . chabnock's woeks. [Eph. Y. 2,
was most precious, to be bestowed upon those for whom he offered himself,
that thereby the pleasure he took in it might be fully evidenced.
5. Use. Let us lay hold of it and plead this sacrifice.
(1.) Let natural men imitate God in an acceptance of this sacrifice. No
man perisheth for want of God's pleasure in it, but for want of his own
acceptance of it upon the goapel conditiona. No bitten Israelite perished
for want of a brazen aerpent, but for want of a look to it. Cast not an,
aspersion upon God by undervaluing that whioh he doth so highly prize ; be
guided by his infallible judgment, rather than by the errors of your own ;
think not of it coldly, as if you were indifferent whether you had a share in
it or no, since God received it not with an indifferent, but an unconceivable
affection. Let that which is sweet to God be so to us ; that which is
savoury to that infinite Spfrit, cannot justly be unsavoury to our contracted
souls. God found no sweetness in the blood of goats, or smoke of incense,
Ps. 1., but only in this aacrifice ; nor should any of us rest on the transitory
pleasures of this life, and sing a requiem to our souls from perishing enjoy
ments, but from the blood of the Lamb that endures for ever. There is no
likelihood for a creature to find rest in that wherein God finds none ; we are
not sure of our lives, but we are sure we are guilty ; and shall any of us be
unconcerned about a powerful sacrifice ? Let a self-abhorrency possess our
souls, without which we oan have no esteem of this offering. As God's
loathing of sin made him value this for expiation, so our aense of sin wUl
make us value this for our atonement. Let no man think that unworthy of
him which God thinks not unworthy of himself; he commanded the angels
to adore him for it, either when he brought him into the world to be a sacri
fice, or brought him into the world above, after he had ' by his blood purged
our sins,' Heb. i. 6. God would have men and angels concur with him in
the magnificent acceptation of our Saviour.
(2.) Let those that believe, continually apply and plead it. This is so
sweet to God, that there is no need of a new sacrifice, but there ia need of a
daily application ; there waa no need of a new aerpent to be erected upon
every sting, but there waa need of a new looking up to the aerpent upon every
wound. We can be no more vrithout this one day to comfort our souls, than
we can be without bread to nourish our bodies ; the remembrance of it must
come up with the remembrance of every sin in our consciences. In this only
shall we find mercy for our iniquities, and comfort for our sorrows. What
was sweet to God in the acceptance, will be sweet to him in the pleas of it ;
it hath not lost its savour, nor hath God changed his judgment. Christ is
in the fragrancy of his sacrifice with God, as well as in hia divinity, ' the
same yesterday, to-day, and for ever.' 'We contract a daily guilt, and we
stand in need of a daily application to this. God will not make us perfect
in this hfe, to keep up the continual credit of this sacrifice, that we may live
by faith, and have every day aensible thoughts of the power of this oblation.
Let all our pleas with God be founded in his acceptance of this ; it is always
to be pleaded by us, as it is always eyed by tbe Father. No pardon is
granted but upon the aooount of it : in every pardoning act, God looks first
with pleasure upon this victim, and dips his pen in tbe blood of it to blot out
the iniquity. No blessing is poured upon us, on which the merit of this
sacrifice is not stamped ; and no petition must be presented by us, but in
the vfrtue of it.

A DISCOURSE OF OBEDIENCE.

Ye are my friends, if ye do whatsoever I command you.— Soss XY. 14.
The words are a part of Christ's discourse after the supper he had instituted.
The chapter begins with a parable, wherein Christ hkens himself to a vine,
and the disciples (ahd consequently aU believers) to branches. The using
this parable was occasioned, as aome think, by Christ's passing by some vine
yards, whence he raises a discourse to spiritualise their meditations upon the
view of the creatures. Whether this were so or no, yet the discourse is ex
cellent, both to ahew the near union and relation of Chriat and believera, and
the way and means of a apiritual growth in sanctification and holinesa. Chriat
was aent into the world to publish a new religion, but not a lazy, but a fruitful
one. God fhe Father is the husbandman, who both dresseth the vine, and
purgeth the branches to render them fruitful. Several argumenta he useth
to engage them to abide in him,- and consequently to be fruitful.
(1.) From their misery without it, ver. 6. The fire is the portion of un
fruitful branches. ' If a man abide not in me, he is cast forth aa a branch,
and ia withered, and men gather them, and oast them into the fire.'
(2.) From the prevalency of their prayers with God, if hia words did
practically and fruitfully abide in them. Yer. 7, ',If you abide in me, and
my words abide in you, you shall ask what ye wiU, and it shaU be done unto
you.' (8.) From the glory of God and honour of Christ which are furthered by
it, ver. 8. When what you ask ia in order to your own fruitfulness and con
sequently God's glory, you need not fear the grant of your requests. ' Herein
ia my Father glorified, that you bear much fruit ; so shall you be my disciples.'
(4.) From gratitude; since he had given them, and was yet further to give
them, the higheat demonstration of his affection to them, ver. 9. You have
had evidence of my Father's love to me, in hia witnessing my mission from
heaven by multitudes of mfracles, and such a kind of love as my Father bears
to me, I do, and will bear to you if you continue to be my disciples. And
all the proof of it I demand of you is, the continuance of my commands and
the performance of them : ver. 10, ' If you keep my commandments, you
shall abide in my love, as I have kept my Father's -will, and abide in his
love.' If you would have such a kind of love from me aa I have had from
my Father, you must perform such a kind of obedience to me aa I have per
formed to my Father; you must make me a pattern of imitation, and my

S88 chabnock's woeks. [John XY. 14.
precept the rule of your actions. And ' do not think,' saith he, ver. 11, that
what I have spoken of to you is ao much out of an authority or an imperious-
neaa, aa out of an affection to you and your interest. It ia not that I ahould
have an advantage, but that you should have a joy ; that auch a joy as you
have felt in my presence with you, and in my redeeming work, may constantly
remain in you. Now the way to have this joy is to keep my commandments.
Fruitfulness will clear up your interest in me, and especially the observance of
that command of a mutual love to one another, ver. 18, for ' greater love
can no man shew than to lay down his life for his friend ;' and you shall
see I will not go backward to discover the highest affection to you ; and
as I discover my affection to you in laying down my life, so you can discover
your affection to me only by observing my commanda.
So that the verse lies between two arguments to urge them to it.
(1.) Hia own love to them, which was of the highest stamp, ver. 13.
(2.) The revelation he had made to them, whioh was the fullest, ver. 15.
' AU thinga that he had heard of hia Father,' and the cleareat, thoae that he
had made known to them ; ao that you have my love to oblige you, and my
revelation to direct you. Aa I have had love to purchaae what you want, so you
muat have love to perform what I order : ' Ye are my friends if ye do what
soever I command, you.' He inrites them to it by an honourable title of
friends. You shall be ranked in the number of them, and continue in this
dignity, if you keep my commands. I do not press this of loring one an
other, that you should perform this only and neglect the reat, for you are not
my frienda in the practice of one of my precepta unless you join the practice
of o{her precepta to it.
Ye are my friends. Actively, you will declare and manifeat yourselves to
be my friends in conforming yourselves to my mind. Passively, I will de
clare myself to you. I have treated you as friends* in imparting the counsels
of God to you, not known to others. It is fit you should treat me as your friend
in gratifying me in obedience to my commands. The dignity of a friend to
Christ may well soften the hardneaa of a command. He doth not so call them
friends as that they should forget that they are his servants and he their
Lord ; for as he mentions friendship aa their privilege, so he mentions his
will by the way of a command to make them sensible of their duty : ' If you
do whatsoever I command you.' It is a great honour (saith Austin) to call
those his friends whom he knows to be his servants.
Ye.
1 . All of ye. It is universal. Men are too narrow to have many intimates,
but the heart of Christ is large enough for all. Friendship with Christ is
the privilege of every obedient peraon.
2. Ye, though poor, considered as men. Outward distress is no hindrance
to spfritual relation.
3. Ye disciples, apostlea employed for God, yet not my frienda unless you
obey me. Not gifts, but grace ; not the highest employment, but exact
practice interests men in this privilege.
Are, not shall be. You are doth not exclude the future, but assures them
of it. They shall be because they are. It is not a thing to be waited for,
hut at present possessed.
If you do whatsoever Icommand you. Adam had a precept,-|- which, if he
had kept, he had continued in the love of God ; and Christ hath given ns
precepts which, if we keep, we ahall continue in the love of Christ. Obedience
is necessary, not by way of merit, but condition. He shews how grateful
^ Muscul. t Ibid.

John XY. 14.] obedience. 589
obedience is to him, because he dignifles the praotiser of it with such a title,
which how honourable is it for us, and how necessary for our welfare.
The text is made up of privilege and duty, relation and action.
1. Privilege and relation : friends.
2. Duty and action : if ye do.
Observe, 1, how glorious is the relation of a holy soul to Christ ! He
doth not say, I love you if you keep my commandments. A man may love
hia servant or his beast, but admits them not to special friendship ; the con
dition of the one and the incapacity of the other will not suffer it. This
title is higher than an assurance of a bare love ; he loves them as friends as
well as servants.
2. How condescending is the love of Christ ! He calls the worms of the
earth the friends of God. We cannot be his servants unless we keep his
commands ; and by keeping his commands we commence a higher degree
than that of servants, even that of friends.
3. Chriat's commands, pot his deeds, are the object of our obedience.
Set not before you what I do, but what I order you to do. Our conformity
to Christ consists not so much in an imitation of what he did as in an obe
dience to what'he prescribes ; the example of Christ is not our rule without
the precept of Christ. Some actions of Chriat are unimitable, but all his
commalnda are obeyable.
4. Privilege ia entailed only to duty.
That which I intend is only the nature of obedience, as deducible from
these words, ' If ye do whataoever I command you.'
1. Do.
(1.) Obedience must be positive. Not only avoid what I prohibit. It
consists not merely in not bringing forth bad fruit, but in bringing forth good.
It is not enough to forbear the commissions of sin, if we are guilty of the
omissions of duty. The fig-tree was not cursed because^ it brought forth
bad fruit, but because it brought forth no fruit. Mat. xxi. 19. No father
will be content with his child in forbearing what he forbids, unless he also
performs what he prescribes. Many, like the pharisees, please themaelves
with negatives, I am not profane, a drunkard, swearer ; but what title is
procured to the privilege in the text, if as much cannot be spoken of posi
tives aa may be of negativea ? We muat be as careful to do what he wills, as to
shun what he hates. He never ' puts off the old man ' cordially, that hath not
also put on the new. Col. iii. 8, 10. It is not a true friendship to omit
what may displease a friend, if we do not also what may gratify him. God
would have an obedience from us suitable to the happiness he promiseth us.
He doth not only free us from hell and wrath, but invest us with heaven
and happiness, so he would have us not only delivered from sin but created
to good works. And you know that our Saviour is not only called Jesus
because he 'saves from sin,' Mat. i. 21, but Christ, because he is ap
pointed by God to govern, fit, and prepare souls for heaven.
(2.) Do it as friends. Obedience must be sincere. An action may look
hke a friendly act when there is nothing of friendship and good will in the
heart. Every precept requires not only an outward but an inward confor
mity, not only a bodily action but a spiritual frame. God would not have
the skin of a sacrifice without the flesh and entraUs, nor the carcase of
obedience without truth in the inward parts, Ps. li. 6. Christ intends not
only an outward appearance, but reapecta the form of every action. Duties
are not differenced by the outward garb, but inward frame. Waters may
have the same colour, yet one may be sweet and the other brackish. Two
apples may have the same colour, yet one may be a crab, and the other of

590 chabnock's woeks. ' [John XY. 14.
a delightful reliah. A serpent hath a speckled skin, but an inward poiaon.
We muat look to the rule, that the matter of our actions be auited to it,
otherwiae we may commit gross wickedness, as they did who thought they
did God good service by killing his righteoua servants, John xvL 2. We
must also look to the frame of our hearts, otherwise we may be guilty of
gross hypocrisy. A friendly action cannot come from the heart of an enemy,
no more than good fruit from a corrupt tree. It may have a apecioua
appearance when the heart ia rank, as a man with a stinking breath holding
a perfume in his mouth smells sweet ; the sweetness is not from his breath,
but the perfume, which takes not away the foulness of his stomach, or the
corruption of his lungs. Christ cannot count any service from a rotten heart
of any worth. A multitude of them are but as cyphers, signify nothing
without a figure in the front : Prov. x. 20, ' The heart of a wicked man ia
little worth.' Sound actiona cannot apring from a corrupt heart, no more
than aweet water from a bitter fountain. He that considers not how his
heart stands, whether it were wound up, whether it were in tune, whether
it were melted, or whether it were frozen, that doth not care how drowsy
and unsavoury his spirit waa, doth not anything aa a friend to Chriat.
(8.) Do as friends ; obedience must be affectionate. It must be love ' out
of a pure mind,' 1 Tim. i. 5. In the command of charity, which is the spe
cial command before the text, the greatest outward asaiatancea are of no
value without thia ingredient, but the leaat with it are highly accepted. A
cup of cold water. Mat. x. 42, a little box of ointment with an affectionate
respect to God, are valued and registered. As mercies are not welcome to
a good man without God's love in them, so our aervices are not welcome to
God without our love in them. A little bread and drink with God'a love is
better than great richea with his displeasure. Job's boils and rags with
God's love were richer than his enemies' robes, and a starving Lazarus
better than a rich epicure. A drop of service with affection to God is more
worth than all the works of men without it. It ia no argument of friend
ship for a man to send a rich cabinet to another with something in it, to
which he knows his friend hath an antipathy. Splendid services to Christ
without glowing affections are of the same nature. Christ would have us
imitate him ; he gives himself with his special mercies, and we must give
ourselves with our special duties. But how often are some duties performed,
not out of love to Christ, but love to ourselves ? Judas his carrying the bag
might be one cauae of Judaa his obedience to Christ, that he might get some ad
vantage by it ; and when he saw a greater offered by the pharisees, he deserted
and betrayed him. Fac me Episcopum Romanum, saith one, et ero Christianus.
When men pretend service to God to catch preferments from men, when
they make a profession of rehgion to cheat more craftily, Ut sub Christiano
nomine lucrosius pereant, this is not to do what Christ commands, but what
we affect.
(4.) Do. Not be constrained to do, but do willingly, freely. What Paul
would not have servants give to their masters, Eph. ri. 6, that many men
give to God, an eye-service. While men have some serious thoughts of
God's omniscience, they may pay him aome serrice, as a aervant may work
while hia maater'a eye is upon him or his feet at the door, but make a mock
at him when hia back ia turned. Or they may do it out of fear of judgment.
Thia may be a motive to quicken, but not the apring to give the first life to
our obedience. A man may be very free in obedience, but upon a wrong
motive, as schoolboys may get their leaaons weU one day, not out of love to
their booka, but that they may play the next ; or as a child at play, called by
bis father to go upon an errand, runs faster than his father would have him,

John XV. 14.] obedience. 591
puts himself all in a sweat. This might be thought 'a very free and wiUing
obedience, but it is not so much obedience to his father as a gratifying him
self in a speedy return to his game, and pursuance of it without any more
disturbance. Or there may be a readiness when an obedience will suit to
corruption. Thia ia auch an obedience as the devil is for. He was much
for Job's trial, which God was also for. God orders him to deprive Job of
his estate, that thereby his sincerity might be evidenced to the world, and
the devil conforms himself to God's order out of mahce to ruin him, hoping
that hypocrisy would issue out instead of sincerity.
[1.] There ia a freedom as opposed to constraint. It is not the act
itself, but the naturalness of it, is a sign of obedience. A constrained obedi
ence may consist with a devillish nature, and therefore cannot be a sign of a
friendship to Chriat. The devil obeys God, but by force ; he ia forced to a
negative obedience, and aometimes to a positive obedience, not by any con
science of a command, but by a constraint by God's power ; as Luke viii. 28,
when Christ commanded him to come out of hia long-possessed habitation.
There may be a constraint by education, whioh is scarce aenaible, when that
upon a profane man is more visible. As a rugged stone will move no fur
ther than a strong arm will throw it, so a profane man moves no farther
than his conscience, or some fear of man, throws him in any duty of obe
dience. But a man that hath the advantage of a religious education is like
a stone smoothed into a right figure, that moves upon a plain at the leaat
touch, yet there ia conatraint goes to that motion, though not so sensible,
because the parts are by an outward smoothness fitted for such a motion ; so
it is with a man that is smoothed by. education.
But the obedience Christ requires is to be free. Good actions are there
fore called fruits of righteousness, fruits of holineas ; because aa a tree brings
forth fruits naturally, so doth a true Chriatian bring forth righteousness.
The gardener helps, indeed, by watering and digging, but doth not constrain
the tree. God helps the man at the first conversion, but doth not force the
soul. In Gal. v. 19, 22, it is obaerved that sina are caUed works, and graces
caUed fruits, to shew the freedom of a holy, and the servile frame of a wicked,
man. A good man is not put upon a duty merely by a sudden fit and im
portunity of conscience ; as vricked men naturally lay in provision for their
lusts, so do good men labour to lay in provision for thefr obedience and
graces. The law, hke a schoolmaster, scourgeth some truant soula to obe
dience, but the goapel gives a wiUingness of spirit in the day of power, Ps.
ox. 3. The difference between theae two powers is, the law is a powerful
conatrainer, mixed with severe threatenings that drive to fear, and the gospel
is a powerful constraint, mixed with kind promises whioh help to love.
[2.] Freedom, as opposed to dulness and heaviness. God's dehght in
a holy person is rendered as one reason of his mercy : Ps. xviu. 19, ' He
delivered me, because he delighted in me ;' and our delight in Christ should
be the reason of our duty. ' If ye do whatsoever I command you.' It is
not a lumpish and heavy action that Christ requires ; he requfres auch an
obedience of us as himself performed to hia Father : John xv. 10, ' If yon
keep my commandmenta, you shaU abide in my love, as I have kept ^my
Father's commandments, and abide in his love.' That waa not a hea-vy
motion ; it was his ' meat and drink to do his Father's wiU,' John iv. 34.
Meat and drink are not only naturally desired, but delightfully received.
Cheerfulness accompanies election of a thing : Ps. cxix. 178, 1'74, 'I have
chosen thy precepts, and thy law is my delight.' Lumpishness is a sign we
never chose it, but were forced to it. Sin is sweet to a wicked man, as a
dainty to a glutton's palate, Job x. 12. He accounts duty his burden, and

592 chabnock's woeks. [John XY. 14,
a true disciple accounts it his honour. He, like the aun. rejoiceth to run,
and when he is in service, his heart cries out, vrith Peter in the mount, ' It
is good to be here.' Such cheerfulness in serrice procures cheerfulneas in
mercies : Isa. Ixiv. 5, ' Thou meetest him that rejoiceth and works right
eousness.' He puts to hia hand to help such an one. Christ lovea not
melancholy and phlegmatic service ; auch a temper in aots of obedience ia a
disgrace to God and to rehgion : to God, it betraya ua to have jealoua thoughta
of God, as though he were a hard master ; to rehgion, it makes others think
duties are drudgeries, and not privilegea. Well, then, so much of cheerful
ness in obedience, so much of a Christian temper ; so much of dulness, so
much of an antichristian frame.
The disciples of Christ have not thia liveliness in a constant equahty. The
wings of the soul drenched in sin, aa weU as the wings of a bird bemired,
vrill fiag. A good man's heaviness ia from infirmitiea and diatempers. A
strong, active man may be laid upon his sickbed, and be loath to be stirred,
but a carnal man'a heaviness is from nature and willingness. A wicked
man's heaviness is at his duty, a good man'a heariness ia at hia own de
ficiency ; his delight consists in the spirit, for the flesh is weak, and wih
never in this world be otherwise.
(5.) Do whatsoever, &c. Not lazily ; obedience must be diligent. God
cares not for a slow obedience ; he would not therefore have an ass offered
in sacrifice, Exod. xiii. 13, but would have it redeemed with a lamb, or the
neck of it broke. A true Christian ia like a aeraphim, that hath six wings
to fly upon God's errands, Isa. vi. 2 ; or like the living creatures, Ezek.
i. 14, that ran and returned at the appearance of a flash of lightning, which
is the quickest motion. Sound members move at the command of the wUl,
whereas palsy members muat be dragged along. Man naturally would have
a ready God, and not a ready heart ; he would have a God ready to attend
hia complaints, but would not have a heart ready to attend God's commands.
But good men take God at a word of precept, when he hath any work for
them to do, as well as at a word of promise, when they have any wants for
him to supply. Hypocrites may be obedient in .promises, aa the son in the
Gospel, Mat. xxi. 29, 30, that promised to go into the vineyard. A good
man doth more without open resolving, another reaolves more -without open
doing. A master vrill take it ill if a servant diaputea his commands. Paul
set about the work he was ordered quickly : Gal. i. 16, ' I consulted not
with flesh and blood ;' he caUed not flesh and blood into a cabinet councU.
What we do for Christ, we must do without advising with corruption, which
is an enemy to God and his ways. Such counsellors will furnish us vrith
evasions to slip from our duty, and represent thinga either impoasible or un
seasonable ; either that it cannot be done at aU, or else it may be done
better at another time ; and aa it ia aaid of our own nation, we loae more by
treaties than we gain by war, so it may be said of our corruption, we lose
more by such treaties than we gain by an open war against it. God would
employ Moses though he had a slow speech, but checks him for his slow
obedience. Abraham was as quick in his obaervance of God's command aa
Moses was slow : Gen. xvu. 23, ' The selfsame day' wherein he had re
ceived the command of cfrcumcision he put it in practice ; he would make
no pauses, lest carnal reason should step in with objections. The readineas
of the GentUea to obey Christ is expressed : Ps. xvih. 44, ' As soon as they
hear of me, they shall obey me ;' like Elisha, who, upon Elijah's spreading
his mantle over him, leaves his father, and oxen, and plough, and runs after
him. The more of fire there is in anything, the more active it is ; the more
of a divine Spirit, the more ^vigorous.

John XY. 14.] obedience. 593
(6.) Do whats^ver, &c., constantly ; not do it for a spurt, or by fits and
starts. Obedience muat be conatant ; it is that which God longa for : Deut.
v. 29, ' Oh that there jvere such a heart in them, that they would keep all
my commandments always, that it might be well with them !' and it will
never be well with a man till he doth it.
[1.] In sinning times it ahould be most 'conspicuous. Good men should
' shine as lights in the midst of a crooked and perverse generation,' Philip.
ii. 15. The stars shine clearest in the darkest, if unclouded, nights. Good
men are like fountains, hottest in the coldest seasons. When did David
love and esteem God's precepts, but when men had made void his law ? Ps.
cxix. 126-128. He would double his valuation of, and obedience to, God's
commands, when he aaw them most violated by others. He brings in a
double Therefore, ' Therefore I love thy commandments above gold ; there
fore I esteem all thy precepts concerning all things to be right.' The more
men despised them, the more he valued them, because he knew they were
most dear to God, since they were most hateful to man. David had been
refreshed by God when he was afflicted, and he would most please God when
he was dishonoured. Wisdom, i. e. Christ, justifies her children in the
sight of her adversaries ; they should therefore justify -wisdom in the aight of
her enemiea. Chriat would have his people bear witness, by thefr profession
and practice, against the sins of the times, as well as he wUl judge and con
demn the world at last with them by their approbation. Thus Joseph of
Arimathea would go boldly to Pilate to beg the body of Jesua, though the
mahce of the age had risen so high as to put him to death, when he was
never mentioned in Scripture tUl that action. Sinful times increase the
wickedness of the wicked, but strengthen the graces of the godly, for they
make them more watchful, and watchfulness makes them the more practical.
We then declare ourselves most the friends of Christ, when we own him
among a multitude of enemies. Opposition makes God take notice of onr
obedience in a special manner. Probably Judas his repining at Mary's
kindness in anointing Christ, was the occaaion that the acent of that oint
ment was spread about the world.
[2.] In suffering times. In suffering times from God, as in desertion.
Christ's obedience was eminent, he would obey God when God had forsaken
him. A true disciple is not, like Saul, impatient to wait upon God when he
hides his face, and run to a witch for counsel : ' Though he slay me, yet
will I trust in him,' Job. xiu. 15. To obey Christ when he manifests his
love, is obedience to ourselves ; to obey him when he veils himself, is pure
love and obedience to him.
In suffering times from men. Many would be obedient to thefr advan
tage ; but to be obedient to death, is the property of a trae disciple, Rev.
iii. 21, as it was of his Master, Phihp. ii. 8. Miaery makes men oftener
forget their virtues than their vices. Many are like the Jews, to cry Hosanna
when Christ rides in triumph ; and presently after, when he is condemned,
either fly from him or vote against him ; like snakes that come out of their
holes in a hot day to sun themselves, and at night retreat to skulk in thefr
•caverns. Many come to live by Christ, but not die for him. Shame,
mocks, scoffing, did not hinder Chriat from dying for us; why should shame
and reproachea hinder us from dying for Christ. The apostle speaks of
cleaving to that which is good, Rom. xii. 9, xoXXd/iivoi ; things glued are
not easily separated. We should cleave so close to him that nothing should
part us from him. Wind wiU not blow a snaU, or any other glutinous sub
stance, off a tree.
VOL. IV. P P

594 chabnock's woeks. [John XY. 14.
Well, then, constancy is an ingredient in the obedienc% Christ requires.
His trees bring forth fruit in old age, Ps. xcU. 14. Age makes other things
decay, but makes a Christian :^uriah. Some are ' like hot horses, mettle
some at the beginning of a joumey, and tired a long time before they come
to their journey's end. A good disciple, as he would not have from God a
temporary happiness, ao he would not give to God a temporary obedience ;
aa he would have hia glory laat as long as God lives, so he would have his
obedience laat aa long as he lives. Judas had a fair beginning, but destroyed
all in the end by betraying his Master.
2. The subject of this doing. Ye, it must be the whole man. Not do
with a part of yourselves, but your whole selves ; there must be a resigna-
of the whole soul to God. The tables of the law were written on both sides,
Exod. xxxii. 15, 16, so must obedience be upon every faculty. Ahab,
Herod, and the stony ground were partial in thefr obedience, like ' Ephraim,
a cake not turned,' Hosea rii. 8, baked on one aide and dough on the other;
Intus Nero, foras Cato, aaith Jerome. But our obedience to Christ must
answer our former enmity ; as that was spread over the whole soul, so must
thia. There muat be an enlightened underatanding, flexible will, tender
conacience, regulated affectiona, watchful membera to go upon the errands
of God. As the father said to the prodigal, ' All that I have is thine,' so
must the aoul to Christ, Lord, all that I have is thine, understanding, wiU,
affections, &o. The holocausts among the Israelites were wholly burnt ; so
are we whoUy to aacrifice ouraelvea.
8. The ohject. Whatsoever, "Oea, as many things as I command you.
Not think it enough to perform one or two, but every one whatsoever.
And so he taught the apostles to teach others. Mat. xxviii. 20. Christ per
formed every command of his Father, and we must perform every command
of Christ. He is not a man after God's own heart that doth not ' fulfil all
his wUl,' it is David's commendation that he did so, Acts xiii. 22. Josiah hath
the same character left upon record, both for the universahty of the subject,
and the universality of the object : 2 Kings xriii. 85, ' He turned to the
Lord with all hia soul, according to all the law of Moaes.' An habitual dis
poaition there must be, that must pass into act, where a particular command,
and an opportunity of obserring it, meet together. No command but ia ao
good, ao just, ao holy, that it deaervea our compliance vrith it in the highest
pitch, and when we cannot equal it we are to bewail our defecta. Obedience
ia quite out of tune if any one command be alighted. The lute is incapable
of making music if one string, the treble, be broken. When the people
went to gather manna on the Sabbath, and ao broke the law, God taxes
them vrith a riolation of the whole, Exod. xvi. 27, 28. To neglect any one
command is disingenuous. Would we have all our sins pardoned, and
ahaU we not be willing to have all God's commands performed ? It is also
dangerous. If a man be to go ten miles, and only go nine of them, he had
as good never have set out, he will never come to his journey's end.
(1.) Whatsoever I command you, in the true meaning and design of it.
Not like the pharisees, who, though they do not blot out the law, yet enervate
it by false glosses and interpretations, and so make it insignificant, taking
away the life and soul of a command.
(2.) Whatsoever I command you, though it may seem mean and low in the
eyea of men. As Christ did not think anything too low to do for us, we
must not think anything too mean to do for him. "Whatsoever is accounted
vUe that is for the honour of Christ, we ahould endeavour to be more vUe in
it. We have David's vote for it, that it was ' better to be a doorkeeper in
the house of God, than to dwell in the tents of wickedness.' The least duty'

John XV. 14.] ^ obedience. 595
must be performed j art shews itself most in little works, so doth grace its
excellency in the performance of the least commanda. Natura triumphat in
minimis, a fly ahews God's power as weU as the world. The leaat mite in
sincerity is acceptable to God, as well as the greatest hecatomb, or a sacri
fice of the beasts upon a thousand hills. The least command should be as
dear to a gracious soul as the greatest. We are not to waive the greatest
because of ita difficulty, nor deapiae the least because of its littleness. A
jewel is not accounted vile because it is little, nor ahould a command becauae
it is mean. He that breaks the least command, shall be least in the king
dom of heaven.
4. The person commanding : ' Whataoever I command you.' * The
authority of Christ must be eyed in all obedience, and his command be made
the rule. When we do the matter of the law, without an eye to the
authority that enacta, it is an obedience to the law, but not to the lawgiver.
Men may perform the matter of a law, yet deapiae the authority of the law
giver in their hearta. We are not ao much to consider, saith Jerome, im
perii quantitatem, aa imperantis dignitatem. "We are not only to obaerve
Chriat aa a friend, but obey him aa a aovereign. He that is the king's friend
must not forget that he is also the king's subject. "What he doth aa a
friend in a way of kindness, he must perform also as a subject in a way
of duty. We must glorify Christ aa Christ, i. e. in all the relationa wherein
he stands to us. Now he is not only our Sariour, but our king, and we are
not only his -frienda, but hia servants. What we receive from God should
be received as from him : 1 Thess. ii. 13, ' Ye received the word as the word
of God.' What we do to God, should be done aa to him, auitable to his
divine greatneaa and majesty. Obedience muat be performed becauae Christ
commands, and as Christ commands it.
Use 1. It informs us of the excellency of the Christian religion. It de
mands the greatest purity, and confers the greateat privilege. It brings us
to the rule of God, and invests us with the friendship of our Creator. No
religion hath so much of benefit, and so much of duty. Nothing enforceth
such exactness in the ways of God. Nothing bestows so much of happiness
upon the creature. In other religions aomething ia indulged to gain pro
selytes, and carnal rewards are proposed to invite them. The precepta of
this are holy and the rewarda high ; other religions consist in negatives,
this in positives. The gospel discovera more sin, and exacts more holiness.
It affords us matter of love, not fear, for our principle ; not force to constrain,
but grace to perauade. Gospel obedience is not the fruit of bondage, but
the fruit of love and friendship.
2. Obedience ia our privilege as well as our duty. It admits us into the
friendship of Christ. The bitterest duty is sugared with this unspeakable
comfort. Those that stand idle in the market-place meet with no such
reward. It is no small honour to be a king's friend ; how unconceivable is
the honour to be a friend of Christ ! ' In keeping his commanda there is
great reward.'f Thia ia a reward above the highest descent. Enoch was
descended but the seventh from Adam, yet this was not his honour, but his
walking vrith God. To be a friend of Christ in rags, is a greater honour
than to be king of the whole world in purple robea. Jerome, apeaking of a
Roman senator, aaith, He waa noble, not becauae Consularis, but Christianus.
The very act of an holy obedience gives a sweeter refiection than all the
pleaaurea of the world. Christ, indeed,' caUs the goapel a yoke, but an
eaay one. He caUs it a yoke, aa natural men think it, not as gracious men
* 'Eyu emphatically added.
t Imperium Dei benefioium est. — Hierom.

596 chabnock's woeks. [John XY. 14.
find it, for it is a privilege more than a yoke. Christ discovers the glory
of his love in the heart, as God did the glory of his presence in the
temple. 3. How inexcusable are diaobedient professors. TSie greater the honour
proposed aa an invitation, the greater the sin in refusing the terms upon
which that honour may be enjoyed. It had been worth the enduring the
torments of some thousands of years, to come at last to tbe privilege of being
the friends of Christ. But no auch thing is required ; it ia not parting with
the first-bom of our bodiea, or aearching out thouaanda of rams, or ten
thousands of rivers of oil ; it is not suffering the flames of hell for a flnite
multitude of years ; no impossible or rigid penances are enjoined ; only
' Do whataoever I command you,' and hia ' commands are not grievous ' in
the experience of thoae that have tried them, 1 John v. 3. What an un
reasonable thing is it not to part with dung for gold, with rags for robes,
with miaery for happiness, with hell for heaven, with sin for Christ ! He
that would refuse to be a prince's favourite upon the performance of an easy
task, deserves, without pity, to be spurned out of the court ; and what ex
cuse can that person have that will not exchange the slavery of the devil for
the friendship of the Redeemer ? Can any blame Christ at last for refusing
any relation to them, and bidding them depart from him, when they here
refused hia friendship, and would have nothing to do with him ?
4. How much comfort and encouragement may be drawn from hence under
all reproaches. Who would regard the barking of dogs in the doing of that
which hath an excellent honour entailed upon it ? The devil regards not
the opinions men have of him ; he looks not upon their curses as his loss,
because he is of an higher nature ; he pursues his business. Shall a dia
bolical nature slight that which a divine nature shall not surmount ? Shall
not curses here, and torments at the end, discourage him from venting his
malice against God, and prosecuting his deriliah designs? and shs^U re
proaches discourage any from that obedience which is attended with so
great an honour ? What is it to be reproached and scorned here a)< little
time, while the favour of God is enjoyed, and after a few nights' slsfep we
are to be raised out of the dust to glory, to enjoy his friendship for evel-, and
to be in glory where he is ? This would be a support when the buUets fly
fast about our ears. It is impossible to be faint-hearted with lively thoughts of
so great an honour. Weigh seriously this honour, and then weigh the ob
structions, and see whether the latter be not overbalanced by the former.
Would a glorified saint, incarnate again in the world, decline the practice of
obedience upon such a gallant encouragement, because 'of reproaches ? Men
might as soon persuade him to fry in heU aa to part with ao great an honour
upon 80 hght an opposition. The rolling of a black cloud over a traveller's
head will not cause him to break off a necessary journey to court, to become
the king's friend or his son-in-law.
5. What an incentive have we, then, to an exact obedience ! This is the
delight of Christ, and ao high a delight to him that he thinks fit to reward
it with no less than a special friendship. Christ looked upon the young
man's morality with an eye of love, much more will he upon an evangelical
obedience. It is not the pomp of the world, or the glittering vanities man's
heart runs after, that can lay any claim to this dignity. Obedience, though
low, if sincere, is the delight of Christ. He loves to go into his vineyard and
look upon the ' tender grapes,' as well as upon the ' ripe fruit,' Cant. vu.
12 ; viii. 2. It is by this you shew yourselves the fr-iends of Christ ;
by this you maintain hia honour in the world. Thia is a silent conviction
upon others, and makes them have some veneration for religion. Men judge

John XY. 14.] obedience. 597
usually of principles by practices, and you never heard any speak against the
principles of rehgion, but they first fell upon the practice of the professors
of it. It is by this obedience we glorify God and Christ, Mat. v. 16, i. e.
make others speak well of the ways of rehgion. Letithis honour of being
the friends of Christ engage us to obedience aa the meana. It is a shame
for such that may attain auch a privilege to pursue anything lower ; an
Alexander watches for kingdoms. It is a poor-spirited Domitian that loves
to catch flies. How many wiU conform to men'a principles, to their will, for
a amaU reward, yea, for no reward ; and shall not we conform to our Re
deemer'a will for so glorious a title ? We must flrst be Jacobs, supplantera
of vice, before we be Israels, seers of God.
Let us close all with a few directions.
(1.) Let us walk as those that have the eye of Christ upon us, to see
whether we act as frienda to ' him or no. Let us consider in every action
that it is registered by conscience, laid up in Christ's remembrance, and
'will be censured by him either as the act of a friend or an enemy. Men
look upon the bark of the action ; this may appear fair, and have a gloss
upon it : Chriat looks upon the inward part, upon the spirit, to see how the
heart ia conformed to the command. We may hide our deformities from
men, but not from an aU-seeing eye. Now I am going to this or that action,
I have a watchful eye over me that pierceth into all my thoughts, discovers
the principles whereby I am conducted, the end for which I move, and seea
how my heart anawers the command.
(2.) • Let us walk as though every action were an inlet to the favour or
enmity of Christ. What know I but this action may open a door to the
favour of Christ, or his endless refuaal ? What do I know but at the end
of this I may either be in Abraham's bosom or in a gulf of misery, and
launched into a blessed or miserable eternity ?
(3.) Let us walk as though the glory of Christ depended upon fevery
action. If our credit, estates, relations, worldly advantages, depended upon
one action, how careful and diligent should we be in the doing of it ! Let
ns act aa though the honour of Christ, and our relation to him, depended
upon what we go about.
(4.) Let us walk as if we were to give an account immediately of what
we have done. . Let us set before us Chriat'a tribunal, and imagine our
selvea called to judgment. I am going about a business, but if Christ should
send for me at the end of it, what account can I give him of my friendship
and obedience to him in it ? Is this such an action that, when I look
Christ in the face, I can challenge him upon thia promise to own me as a
friend ?
(5.) Let us walk as though Christ stood before us crucified, with all the
obligations of love on his part ; as if we saw him with his wounds open, and
love and blood distilling from his heart upon us ; and consider whether the
act we are going about be suited to auch inestimable kindness, or a putting
him to an open shame. Hath not Christ had wounds enough, but must I
increase them ? Hath not he had miaery enough, but must I add more ?
Shall I break his heart who breathes kindness towards me, and behave myself
as an enemy towards him who offers me a favour which cannot be merited by
a creature ? Shall I wound him whose heart is open for me, and strike him
that wooa me ? Shall I be a Judaa to him that would be my friend, and
pull him down that would lift me up to the highest privilege of a creature ?
(6.) Let us walk as we think a damned soul would walk, if he were again
to live under the knowledge of such a promise. How would he obey, and
obey heartily ! Howwouldhepray, and pray fervently ! How busy might we

598 chabnock's woeks. [John XY. 14.
suppose him to be in inquiring what those commands were, and how dili
gent in the performance of them ! How would he by violence take all oppor
tunitiea to puraue his duty, and attain his privilege ! What if any should
see a damned soul stitad before him when he was going into an unclean bed,
and teU him it was for less than this he was judged an enemy to Christ, and
a miserable wretch for ever ; would any man's fear suffer him to go on in
his intended evil ? We have not those objects of fear before our eyes, but
we have this promise in the word, suited more to ingenuous natures, to be
accounted the fi-iends of God and Christ, ' if we do whatsoever he com
mands us.'

END OF VOL. rv.

YALE UNIVERSITY LIBRARY

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