Form or Heart? by M. K. W.

Pacific Seventh-day Adventist Publishing Association · Oakland, California · Mar 1, 1877

Form or Heart?

By M. K. W.

[A few days since a friend handed us a small tract with the above title, written by the Rev. J. C. Ryle, B. A., and printed in London in 1863. Although written in England and having direct reference to the formality of the Church of England, no one can fail to see its application to the religion of our country at the present day. We bespeak a careful reading for the extracts given below. M. K. W.]

Reader: The question which heads this page deserves your serious attention at any time. I take it for granted that you have some religion. You are not an infidel. You profess and call yourself a Christian. Well, is your Christianity formal or spiritual? Is religion with you a matter of form, or a matter of the heart?

The question deserves especial notice in this age of the church and world. Never since the Lord Jesus Christ left the earth, was there so much formality and false profession, as there is at the present day. Now, if ever, we ought to examine ourselves, and search our religion, that we may know of what sort it is.

I know no better way of unfolding the subject than by turning to a plain passage of the Word of God. Let us hear what St. Paul says about it. He lays down the following great principles in his Epistle to the Romans: “He is not a Jew, which is one outwardly; neither is that circumcision, which is outward in the flesh: but he is a Jew, which is one inwardly; and circumcision is that of the heart, in the spirit, and not in the letter; whose praise is not of men, but of God.” Rom. 2: 28, 29. Three most instructive lessons appear to me to stand out on the face of that passage. Let us hear what they are:—

1. We learn that formal religion is not religion, and a formal Christian is not a Christian in God’s sight.

2. We learn that the heart is the seat of true religion, and that the true Christian is the Christian in heart.

3. We learn that true religion must never expect to be popular. It will not have the praise of men, but of God.

When a man is a Christian in name only, and not in reality; in outward things only, and not in his inward feelings; in profession only, and not in practice; when his Christianity, in short, is a mere matter of form, or fashion, or custom, without any influence on his heart or life,—in such a case as this the man has what I call a “formal religion.” He possesses indeed the form, or husk, or skin of religion, but he does not possess its substance or its power.

Look, for example, at those thousands of people whose whole religion seems to consist in keeping religious ceremonies and ordinances. They attend regularly on public worship. They go regularly to the Lord’s table. But they never get any further. They know nothing of experimental Christianity. They are not familiar with the Scriptures. They take no delight in reading them. They do not separate themselves from the ways of the world. They draw no distinction between godliness and ungodliness in their friendships, or matrimonial alliances. They care little or nothing about the distinctive doctrines of the gospel. They appear utterly indifferent as to what they hear preached. You may be in their company for weeks, and never hear or see anything on a week day to show that they are not moral infidels or respectable deists. What can be said about these people? They are Christians undoubtedly, by profession; and yet there is neither heart nor life in their Christianity. There is but one thing to be said about them. —They are formal Christians. Their religion is a form.

Two hundred years have passed away, since a Puritan divine said, “Formality, formality, formality is the great sin of England at this day, under which the land groans. There is more light than there was, but less life; more shadow, but less substance; more profession, but less sanctification.”

There are places of worship at this very day, where all the outward things of religion are done to perfection. The building is beautiful. The service is beautiful. The singing is beautiful. The forms of devotion are beautiful. There is everything to gratify the senses. Eye, and ear, and natural sentimentality are all pleased. But all this time God is not pleased. One thing is lacking, and the want of that one thing spoils all. What is that one thing? It is heart! God sees under all this fair outward show, the form of religion put in the place of the substance; and when he sees that, he is displeased. He sees nothing with an eye of favor in the building, the service, the priest, or the people, if he does not see converted, renewed, broken, penitent hearts. Bowed heads, bended knees, loud amens, crossed hands, faces turned to the east, all, all are nothing in God’s sight without right hearts.

I come now to the last thing which I proposed to consider. I said that true religion must never expect to be popular. It will not have the praise of man, but of God.

Reader, I dare not turn away from this part of my religion, however painful it may be. Anxious as I am to commend heart-religion to every one, I will not try to conceal what heart-religion entails. I will not gain a recruit for my Master’s army under false pretenses. I will not promise anything which the Scriptures do not warrant. The words of St. Paul are clear and unmistakable. Heart-religion is a religion “whose praise is not of men, but of God.”

God’s truth and scriptural Christianity are never really popular. They never have been. They never will be as long as the world stands. No one can calmly consider what human nature is, as described in the Bible, and reasonably expect anything else. As long as man is what he is, the majority of mankind will always like a religion of form far better than a religion of heart.

Formal religion just suits an unenlightened conscience. Some religion a man will have. Atheism and downright infidelity, as a general rule, are never very popular. But a man must have a religion which does not require much—trouble his heart much—interfere with his sins much. Formal Christianity satisfies him. It seems the very thing that he wants.

Formal religion gratifies the secret self-righteousness of man. We are all of us more or less Pharisees. We all naturally cling to the idea, that the way to be saved is to do so many things, and go through so many religious observances, and that at last we shall get to Heaven. Formalism meets us here. It seems to show us a way by which we can make our own peace with God.

God will proclaim his approval of heart-religion before the assembled world at the last day. He will command his angels to gather together his saints, from every part of the globe, into one glorious company. He will raise the dead and change the living, and place them at the right hand of his beloved Son’s throne. Then all that have served Christ with the heart shall hear him say, “Come, ye blessed of my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world; thou hast been faithful over a few things, I will make thee ruler over many things; enter thou into the joy of thy Lord.”

Look forward, finally, and hope for the coming of the Lord. Your best things are yet to come. The second coming of Christ will soon be here. The time of temptation will soon be past and gone. The judgment and reward of the saints shall soon make amends for all. Rest in the hope of that day. Work, watch, and look forward. One thing at any rate that day will make abundantly clear. It will show that there was never an hour in our lives in which we gave our hearts too thoroughly to Christ.