p. 373 | Forsake Sin by Charles S. Pomeroy, D. D.

International Tract and Missionary Society · Oakland, Cal. · Jun 18, 1885

FromSigns of the Times, Vol. 11, No. 24.

Forsake Sin.

By Charles S. Pomeroy, D. D.

EVERY man, be he boor or philosopher, skeptic or atheist even, will have a theology—that is to say, his views about religion. Felix had his. And, whether a man wishes it or not, he must be systematic in his theology. His views held on one point will shape his views upon the others. His opinion of sin will inevitably color his opinion of the atonement and of repentance, as truly as a man's belief whether it is going to rain or not will control his carrying an umbrella. True conviction of sin is only one feature of a proper self-knowledge—not a technical prescription of something to be suffered in the way of conversion, not a mere blind, excited fear, but an intelligent consciousness of facts in our own being that need to be acted upon. A painful consciousness no doubt at first, like the discovery of fire in your dwelling or a disease in your system, that must be known before the one can be extinguished or the other cured. Why should such multitudes fight off the conviction? or, what is just as bad and senseless, endure its suffering with no action for relief—no penitence, no prayer, no trust in the Redeemer?

We do not learn that Drusilla the Jewess trembled, though Felix the heathen did. But no life confronts the truth with stiffer resistance than one who has sinned against light and privilege. When Christ's gospel enters, as a general rule it makes disturbance. The peace he comes to bring—peace of conscience, peace with God—is a conquered peace, a victory over selfishness and sin. People who reject him may not be exceptionally bad—not nearly as bad as Felix. They are only determined, like him, to have no interference with their customs or their lives. Conscience makes cowards of them. The first impression of their case is disagreeable and alarming. They act on it as a tenant in a decayed building might shut out the inspector who came to report danger and counsel repairs—as a sick man might bolt his door against the doctor in fear of something nauseous in his prescriptions.

Christ cannot come to men and remain a mere ornamental appendage. He touches our life. He takes control. He and willing sin cannot live together. If he stays, the sin must vacate the premises. There is no help for it. Let the demons bestir themselves, for he comes to expel them. If they go not quietly, they must go with a battle. He knew what widespread disturbance firm standing by the truth would make; not the truth's fault, neither. The Jews used to call the disciples "those who turned the world upside down." They meant it for a calumny. Yet it was true, because the world was wrong side up, and Christ's gospel came to set it right. Many can endure religious teaching when it runs in the line of their views and habits, but when it corrects and criticises by divine authority, probes their consciences, counsels a new life, says "Thou art the man," they get vexed, and are sure to think the minister is going out of his sphere. They prefer such abstract religious truths and theological discussions as will allow their consciences to sleep, and feed them with soothing syrup, and put no hand upon their passions, and never touch their business relations, and send them away tranquilized and good-natured to their old tricks again. Our Master never preached like that, neither did his apostles. Some people like religion well enough as a plow upon the shelf. But when it does the work it was meant for, rips up the soil of their selfishness, opens to the light their refuges of unbelief for the planting of gospel seed, they had rather let their souls go fallow and fruitless to judgment than submit to the gracious processes of Christ's husbandry. When you pull down the shade in a dusty room, it seems cleaner when sunbeams are excluded. But it is only the revelation you shut out, not the dust. Don't try to pull down a curtain over sins; it does no possible good to hide them. What God wants is confession, cleansing, not concealment.