Publishing Committee · Battle Creek, Mich. · Aug 27, 1857
THE SEVENTH MONTH MOVEMENT.
By Editor
[The following article on the movement which took place in regard to the seventh month, Jewish time, in 1844, we take from the Advent Shield, published in January, 1845. In presenting it to our readers we feel sure that we are obeying at least one injunction, which is, to call to remembrance the former days. Those who were engaged in that movement can look back upon it with interest, especially since by the light that has since risen upon us, the cause of our disappointment is clearly seen, and we perceive that we were doing the will of God, inasmuch that it was with us seemingly as with the disciples anciently: had we held our peace the very stones would have cried out. But we do not intend a dissertation upon the subject as an introduction. We trust it will possess interest more or less for all. [ED.]
THE late movement, in connection with the seventh month of the Jewish sacred year, was the most marked and striking event that has occurred in connection with the doctrine of the Second Advent, since the commencement of the present interest respecting it. It is well deserving a passing notice; and its history is interesting, not only as a memento of the past, but also as a landmark for the future.
The first public reference made to the seventh month as the time of the Lord's advent, was by Mr. Miller, in a letter, which appeared in the "Signs of the Times," of May 17th, 1843. In this letter, he alluded to the various events which had occurred, and to the several observances of the Jewish law which were commemorated, in the seventh month. As many of these were typical of events predicted to transpire in immediate connection with the second advent, and it was considered as highly probable that in their antitypical fulfillment they might be fulfilled chronologically.
Thus it was shown the ark rested on the seventeenth day of the seventh month. Gen. viii, 4. At a later period, on the same day of this month, the sanctuary, and worshipers, and all appertaining to it, were cleansed. Lev. xvi, 29-34. On the tenth day of this month, the Israelites were annually required to afflict their souls, from the evening of the ninth to the evening of the tenth. Lev. xxiii, 27-32. In this month, from the first to the fifteenth, was an annual holy convocation of all Israel. Lev. xxiii, 24; Num. xxix, 1.
On the fifteenth day, was the great feast of tabernacles, or of ingathering, when all Israel were assembled before the Lord. Lev. xxiii, 34; 1 Kings viii, 2. On the tenth day of this month, every fiftieth year, the great trumpet was sounded throughout all the land, when every man was restored to his possession, and all bond-men went free. Lev. xxv, 9, 10. And on the tenth day of this month, the high priest made atonement for all Israel, when the inner sanctuary was sprinkled with the blood of the kid, slain for a sin-offering; and the scape-goat on which was laid the sins of all Israel, was led away into the wilderness—a type of him who bore our sins and carried our sorrows. Lev. xvi, 1-34; Isa. liii, 4.
The anniversaries of so many observances, all centering in this month, made it a point of much interest. As such, it was presented by Mr. Miller; not as being conclusive evidence of the time in the year of our Lord's advent, but as a question worthy of our prayerful consideration. It, however, attracted but little notice at the time: a few regarded it with much interest, and when that month in 1843 had passed, such were disappointed; but the great body of Adventists regarded it with but little favor.
As time continued beyond A. D. 1843, many began to inquire the reasons of their disappointment respecting the year of their expected deliverance. It was then seen, that commencing all the prophetic periods in the years B. C., where we had always stated their commencement, they would not be respectively completed, even upon the supposition that our chronology and date of their commencement were correct, until some time within the year 1844. Thus, of the seven times, or 2520 years, commencing in B. C. 677—the great jubilee, or 2450 years, commencing in B. C. 607—and the 2300 years of Daniel, commencing in B. C. 457—as a portion of each of those years, from which the prophetic periods were respectively dated, had expired before the occurrence of the several events which marked their commencement, it would be necessary that they should extend as far into A. D. 1844, as they respectively commenced after the beginning of the years B. C. from which they are severally reckoned, in order, either to complete the number of years in such, or to test the correctness of our chronology. But there was no clue to the time, in the respective years B. C., at which the several periods began; and consequently the time in the year of their termination, could not be accurately marked.
During this time, however, some who had embraced the view that the ceremonials of the Mosaic law, typical of Christ's second advent, would be fulfilled chronologically, began to present their views with the evidence, which to their minds, went to prove that the advent of the Lord, whenever it should occur, would be on the tenth day of the seventh month of the Jewish sacred year.
The argument was that at Christ's first advent, several of the Jewish observances, typical of that event, were fulfilled chronologically, and that, consequently, those which were typical of his second advent, must also be fulfilled chronologically. Thus, the passover, commemorating that memorable night in which the children of Israel departed from the land of Egypt, was typical of Christ—"our Passover;" and as the paschal lamb was slain on the 14th day of the month Abib, so Christ was crucified on the 14th of the same month. As the sheaf of the first fruits was waved before the Lord for a wave-offering on the morrow after the Jewish Sabbath of the paschal week, so our great High Priest arose on the first day of the week, the morrow after the Jewish Sabbath of the paschal week, "the first fruits of those that slept." And as the feast of pentecost—the feast of weeks, was commemorated on the fiftieth day from the waving of the sheaf of first-fruits, so when the day of pentecost was fully come, and the disciples were all with one accord in one place, the holy Spirit descended as a rushing mighty wind accompanied by miraculous gifts.
These remarkable events being chronologically fulfilled, it was argued that the various other types, "the shadows of good things to come," must be fulfilled in like manner. Thus the blowing of the great trumpet in the year of jubilee, on the tenth day of the seventh month—a type of the trump of God, the last trump; the release of all captives, the canceling of all debts, and the restoration of every man to his possessions, on the same day,—typical of the great release; and the atonement of the High Priest for the sins of all Israel, his intercession therefor in the Holy of Holies, and his coming out from thence to bless the waiting congregation,—typical of the completion of the intercession which Christ is now making, and of his coming out of heaven itself, to appear the second time unto those that look for him, without sin unto salvation, it was argued, fully demonstrated, that a day thus selected and set apart of God for the observance of so many ceremonials, typical of the greatest of all events, must be honored in the completion of the plan of salvation by the event itself.
This supposition was greatly strengthened by the consideration that the observances of these ceremonials would bring us to the very time where all the prophetic periods might center in their complete fulfillment, and beyond which, reckoning from those dates, they could not be well extended. It was also analogous to the dealings of God with his children in times past,—in the event of the flood, in the destruction of the cities of the plain, the departure of the children from Egypt, and their entrance into the land of Canaan,—to make known, a short time previous to the fulfillment of a chronological prophecy, the very day of its occurrence. Although the time to the flood was revealed to man 120 years previous to that event, and the time of the sojourning of God's chosen people in a strange country 400130years, yet the precise days of the termination of those periods, were not made known until a very short time previous to their fulfillment. If there was any force in the analogy of the past, we certainly had reason to believe, as a revelation had been made of the great periods reaching to the advent, that before its occurrence the very day of our deliverance might be made known to us.
As the mariner, tossed upon the tempestuous ocean for many long tedious days, with joy receives the first intimation of the long wished-for land, so many an humble soul, who fearlessly had risked their earthly all in patient looking for the King of kings, felt a new thrill of joy, and their hearts quicker throb, when they listened to arguments designed to prove the day of Christ's return. Thus, although a definite day was at first generally opposed, yet there were numbers in every place to whom it was as water to the thirsty soul, and who received it as the earth drinketh up the rain; so that it gradually spread through all the south of New England, and in the Middle States. Still, great numbers of the Adventists opposed it,—some being intellectually convinced that the arguments would not warrant all the stress laid upon them, nor the positiveness with which they were regarded, while others opposed it without giving the argument a critical examination, having a general dislike to the preaching of a definite day. But as this view continued to be presented, many of this class embraced it, until it began to be the prevailing opinion in many of the Advent bands. The lecturers, however, most of them, and the several Advent papers, for several months stood aloof from it.
While this was being preached in the north of New England, there was an awakening among the Adventists in Vermont, New Hampshire, and Maine; and a strong conviction prevailed among them of the Lord's being at the very door, but without reference to any definite day. These were all prepared to receive the definite time, whenever it should be presented to them. When the Advent cause was at this crisis, the Exeter camp-meeting was held in August last, at which all these sections of country were fully represented. There the argument for the time was forcibly presented, and in connection with all the various questions of interest which had given new vigor to the cause in other sections. The result was, that the time was generally and enthusiastically received; and as the several brethren returned to their respective homes, they carried it with them, and it began to be the prevalent belief in every direction. And those who received it, believing it to be the truth, and feeling that if true, it should be preached without delay, extended it far and near with all the eloquence and success that so joyful and probable an event could produce.
While this view of the time was so universally received, its fruits were also seen to be most beneficial.
ITS FRUITS
It produced everywhere the most deep searching of heart and humiliation of soul before the God of high heaven. It caused a weaning of affections from the things of this world, a healing of controversies and animosities, a confession of wrongs, a breaking down before God, and penitent, broken-hearted supplications to him for pardon and acceptance. It caused self-abasement and prostration of soul, such as we never before witnessed. As God by Joel commanded, when the great day of God should be at hand, it produced a rending of hearts and not of garments, and a turning unto the Lord with fasting and weeping and mourning. As God said by Zechariah, a spirit of grace and supplication was poured out upon his children, they looked to him whom they had pierced, there was a great mourning in the land, every family apart and their wives apart, and those who were looking for the Lord afflicted their souls before him. Such was its effect on the children of God.
While none could deny the possibility of the Lord's then coming, and as the fulfillment of some of the types chronologically at Christ's first advent rendered it highly probable that those which typified the second advent would also be chronologically fulfilled, so general an awakening, and with such blessed fruits, could not but impress many minds; and those who were not convinced of the soundness of the typical argument, were led to regard it as a fulfillment of the parable of the ten virgins in Matt. xxv.—as their arising to trim their lamps, after having gone forth to meet the bridegroom, and slumbering while he tarried; so that the definite time was finally embraced by nearly all of the Advent faith. So universal a movement among those who a short time before were comparatively asleep on this question, could not be unnoticed by the world. The wicked, consequently, flocked to the various places of meeting,—some out of idle curiosity to hear, others out of concern for their spiritual interests, and others still to scoff at solemn things. Those who believed they should so shortly stand in their Saviour's presence, and whose works corresponded with their faith, could not but feel a nearness of access to God and sweet communion with him; and the souls of such were greatly blessed. With a realizing sense of such a nearness of the greatest of all events, as we came up to that point of time, all other unnecessary cares were laid aside, and the whole soul was devoted to a preparation for the great event. God being more ready to give than we are to receive, does not permit any thus to plead in vain; and his Holy Spirit came down like copious showers upon the parched earth. It was then evident that there was faith upon the earth, such faith as is ever ready to act in accordance with what the soul believes that God has spoken,—such faith as would, in obedience to a supposed command, bid all the pleasures of this world adieu, having respect to the recompense of reward. Such was a faith like that of Abraham's, when, at the command of God, he went out "not knowing whither he went," nor withheld his only son; and here were those all ready to join the multitude, who through faith will inherit the promises.
(To be Continued.)
FULLNESS OF CHRIST.
What the heart is at the birth,
What the soul is to the earth,
What the gem is to the mine,
What the grape is to the vine,
What the bloom is to the tree,
That is Jesus Christ to me.
What the string is to the lute,
What the breath is to the flute,
What the spring is to the watch,
What the nerve is to the touch,
What the breeze is to the sea,
That is Jesus Christ to me.
What the estate is to the heir,
What the Autumn's to the year,
What the seed is to the farm,
What the sunbeam's to the corn,
What the flower is to the bee,
That is Jesus Christ to me.
What the light is to the eye,
What the sun is to the sky,
What the sea is to the river,
What the hand is to the giver,
What a friend is to the plea,
That is Jesus Christ to me.
What culture is unto the waste,
What honey is unto the taste,
What fragrance is unto the smell,
Or springs of water to a well,
What beauty is in all I see,
All this and more is Christ to me.
Events in Asia.
By Baltimore American
It is not surprising that bold theorists or fanciful students of the Bible should imagine they see "the beginning of the end" of prophecy in the historic events of the past few years. There has been something strangely provocative of that idea in the return of the currents of strife and revolution to their original centre, the continent of Asia. The thoughtful have long anticipated and predicted such return, but while the indications were faint and gradual they escaped the common attention. Now, however, when the world has seen the great Northern Power of that continent arrayed against the nations of Europe; now that the whole Persian empire is swaying between the eastward march of Russia on the one hand, and the Indian ambition of England on the other; now that the entering wedge of the "opium war" has been succeeded by a new and unexpected second assault upon the exclusive policy of China; now that the extent of that vast and stagnant empire has been shaken by the tramp of revolution; now that the conquering policy of Russia is expanding into railroad ramifications through the continent pari passu with the canal and steam projects of European commerce along its southern and western margin—now that these things have become matters of history, the world seems to be awakening to the fact that Asia is to be the theatre of gigantic events in the near future, and grave statesmen find excuses for speculative solicitude in regard to the ultimate results.
What precise turn these results are to exhibit is not a practical question, but the unmistakable tendency of events already passed or now transpiring is among the most momentous considerations of the day. The abrupt termination of the Russian struggle with Turkey and the Western Powers was far more remarkable than the origin and incidents of the war itself, wonderful as were the latter. Its full significance is hardly, however, more yet discernible.
With seemingly lowered crest the Muscovite escaped from a tremendous and rapidly exhausting conflict, but at once proceeded to avail himself of the appliances of an advanced civilization possessed by his enemies, to unite and consolidate his empire. The idea of commercial convenience and consequent financial augmentation and strength no doubt enters fundamentally into these schemes, but that this aim is singly or even mainly, as is made to appear, the design of the Emperor, will be hard to impress upon those familiar with the inexorable policy of Russia. That icy despotism stands the iron type of military power in the nineteenth century. Her net-work of railways is primarily to answer the same purpose as the wonderful thoroughfares constructed by Roman energy, and to perfect the communication between the center and circumference of the empire.
Nor will it be sufficient that these means of instant communication ramify the empire itself. Already is the Czar busy with a counter-check to the Anglo-Indian encroachment on Persia, and the projected railroad from Tiflis, his trans-Caucasian center-point, to Teheran, the capital of the Shah, marks the first of his colossal strides to dispute the empire of Eastern Asia with all the world. To the same purpose have tended his aggressive spoliations on the Amour river over his feeble southern neighbor in that quarter.
Of the tendency of the events of the past few years in China—to which may be added the new relation occupied by Japan to the rest of the world—it is much easier to form an estimate. There were few men versed in the history of the "opium war" who ever anticipated that China would have remained as long as she has free from a second European drubbing. That war was but a preliminary buffet, before which the walls of Cathayan isolated—endangered by the senile insolence of the Chinese themselves—are eventually to succumb. It is possible this would have been repeated before now if the revolution in that country had not supervened. As it is, that astonishing convulsion of a people stagnant beyond all criterion is but another link in the general chain. Tai-ping-Wang could have sprung successfully into the character of a Chinese Mohammed only by the awakening consciousness of the people that godship did not dwell in the Tartar potentate. Two hundred years of undisputed rule had deadened the memory of doubt as to the Manchu divine right and divine person. It had also extinguished the vitality of the Ming tradition. But the English opium war taught the shrewd among the Chinese that their super-serene superiority was a deception and a myth, whose absurdity stared them in the face. Such a man was the disappointed schoolmaster, "the elegant and perfect" Siu-tshuen. He had witnessed in his day the miserable farce of Chinese resistance, and the total and disgraceful overthrow of celestial valor and might. His literary studies acquainted him with the potency of the Ming prestige as a historical souvenir. He may or may not be a remote descendant. This is immaterial. All that was necessary was to make the Chinese Saxons believe that he was of the race of their own Harold, and the immemorial and ineradicable prejudices against the invader and usurper would come to his assistance. The whole scheme illustrates the sublime duplicity of the Cathayan character. The "Prince of Peace"—Tai-ping-Wang—the "Great Pacification King"—could do no less than avail himself of the national superstition, and he therefore holds his followers enthralled with a belief in his indispensable divinity, while on the other hand he extorts their homage as the representative of the native nationality. He has caught a glimpse, faint though it be, of the power of the "outside barbarian," he is too shrewd not to appreciate it; he feels that contact is strengthening the ideas of his own people, and that their bleared and bespotted vision is clearing to something higher; he therefore boldly plunders the Christian of an improved idea of divine relationship, flatters by Oriental policy and frightens by practical performance, and meets the coming shock of events as a hero and a reformer.—Baltimore American.
A Day with Christ.
It may enable one the better to realize what it is to live with Christ, to conceive of him as being present bodily as he was with the first disciples. Suppose then that Christ is at your side, just as he was daily with Peter or John, are you quite willing to have him observe all your conduct, to know how you are occupied, what you say and do through all131the day? He is not present as an austere censor, but as a personal friend, kind, patient, forbearing; yet he is pure and holy, and is grieved and offended at any departure from the perfect law of rectitude and love. And now with Christ thus at your side, you are supposed to act naturally in all respects as you are accustomed to do, assuming nothing for the occasion. How far are you prepared to submit to the personal inspection of Christ? He enters the family. He rejoices in the genial play of affection, and in the innocent mirth of the fireside. The little prattler on your knee engages his attention and receives his caresses. He is a cheerful, affectionate, considerate visitor, entering with interest into every subject relating to your happiness. But what impression does the general, the usual course of affairs in the family produce upon the mind of such an observer? How much place is given to religion? Is God honored in your house? Is your family worship so conducted—I speak it reverently—that Christ himself could join in it, or could at least be an approving spectator? How much of the conversation of the family is upon topics agreeable to Christ? And to what extent is your conversation upon domestic affairs and secular things characterized by a tone of natural and cheerful piety—the recognition of God's providence, of moral obligation, and of the superior importance of spiritual things?
In the whole economy of the household, in the intercourse of the several members of the family with each other, how much is there of the spirit of kindness, subduing irascibility and fretfulness, and causing the day to glide smoothly and pleasantly onward? How far are your expenses, your style of living, the education of your children, in a word, all your domestic arrangements, regulated so as to meet the approbation of Christ? Endeavor thus to entertain Christ in your family for a day, and you may discover whether you do truly live with him.
From the family, Christ now accompanies you to your place of business. He observes your deportment in your intercourse with the world. He is with you in the counting-room, he is with you in the shop, wherever you go, Christ is at your side; whatever you say or do Christ is a witness of it. He sees with what temper you bear the disappointments and vexations of the day; he sees upon what principles you conduct your business, and for what end; whether you are in haste to be rich, or whether, while "not slothful in business," you are still "fervent in spirit, serving the Lord." Christ stands by you when you are making a bargain, knows whether you speak the truth, or take advantage of your neighbor. If you act just as you are accustomed to do, how much will Christ see in you to approve, and that will cause him to rejoice in such a representative? how much that will cause him to blush for the honor of his name?
From your family and your place of business, Christ next goes with you into society. Perhaps the company to which you introduce him is a circle of relatives, or of Christian friends, who have met for social entertainment. Such a company ought to be congenial to his tastes and feelings. Does it prove to be so? Is your deportment and that of your fellow-Christian in the social circle, are your topics of conversation and methods of entertainment such that Christ will feel quite at home there, and, as a cheerful friend, can participate therein?
Leaving these scenes Christ next attends you to your closet. He observes whether you resort thither cheerfully, or by constraint of conscience and of habit; whether you enter it in a hurry, and after a hurried prayer and a listless mechanical reading of the Scriptures, rush forth again to the world of business or of pleasure, where your heart has mainly been; or whether your closet is a favorite resort, which you delight to seek, and where you love to linger, that you may hold near and intimate converse with him. Are you willing that Christ should thus enter your closet with you?
He attends you also to the prayer-meeting, and to the house of God. He knows what passes in your mind before going,—whether you go cheerfully or of constraint, after a long conflict between duty and inclination. He knows what preparation you make for these social and public religious services and in what spirit—for he reads the heart—you engage in them. Would you be willing to perform these duties as you are accustomed to do, with Christ at your side as a close observer?
And in the same manner Christ takes notice of what you do for his cause. He knows whether you visit the poor, converse with the impenitent, seek out the vicious and degraded, and in what spirit you perform such labors. Are you quite willing that Christ should see and know, as a personal observer, just what you are doing for his cause?
If you will endeavor thus to conceive of Christ as with you in the body, for a single day, you may judge how far you truly live with him.—Sel.
Heart Searching.
THE Psalmist prayed, Search me, O God, and know my heart. Did he comprehend the import of that prayer? Do we comprehend its import when in our most pious frames we repeat the petition? To come to the knowledge of ourself, to go down to the foundation of one's character and hopes, is a more serious and earnest matter when God answers the prayer than we imagine when we utter it. It is like descending the shaft of a mine; your first descent is by an easy flight of steps, and the novelty enlivens, the coolness refreshes you; but at the bottom of these you come to a narrow archway, through which you must creep to the next descent, which is by a slender perpendicular ladder that trembles beneath your weight; you grow dizzy and wish yourself safely out again; the air becomes more chill and damp, and you are wet and soiled with the drippings of the vari-colored strata through which you pass; again you crawl through a yet narrower passage, tearing your flesh at every motion, and now you are on the verge of a deep well into which you must be lowered by crank and bucket. You look down into the awful unbroken gloom. You cast in a pebble and listen nervously for the distant plash. You ask the guide, Are there ever explosions here? His affirmative answer does not serve your courage. You ask again, Do rocks ever fall here? Again the answer is in the affirmative, accompanied by the details of a recent accident. Does the rope ever break? Yes, again. Your knees smite together as you launch into the abyss. The bottom reached, you here find countless avenues with mystery on mystery. Now your breath is stifled; now your frame is chilled; now your flesh is wounded; now your sight is gone; again and again you wish yourself at the surface, yet cannot brave the perilous ascent. Who would have imagined that under the smooth grassy mound, the fragrant clover, or the teeming orchard, such wonders and such dangers lay concealed. It is even so with the heart of man. Yet must we at times take the candle of God's word, and fathom its utmost depths. Though it chill our blood, palsy our nerves and sicken our brain, yet must we go down, down into the caverns of the heart. What find we there?
Self-examination is apt to be an occasional and a very superficial work. We look into our hearts enough to see that evil is there, and in the gross we make confession of sin and purpose repentance; but we shrink from the details. To tell the number of our sins is an unwelcome task; we avert our eyes from them, we seek to cover them, we hope to outgrow them and feel assured at least that death will emancipate us from them. This is a wretched policy. “He that covereth his sins shall not prosper.” We cannot get rid of sin by any such process. It cannot be concealed; it will not die out; it cannot be outlived; death will not cancel it. Where sin is harbored in the soul, suffered to live on without repentance or correction, what is there in death to destroy it? Nay, the soul that comes to death with cherished sin must needs go to judgment without repentance and without pardon. Death works no such miraculous transformation. Let me not delude myself with such a thought. “Search me, O God!”
Sometimes God searches us by an array of providences that expose us to ourselves; he holds up on every side a mirror, and whichever way we turn some phase of our own heart is reflected upon us. Sometimes he deals directly with the heart, and probes it gently to the quick; sometimes he tears it open with one gaping wound, and as it lies quivering in its black deformity we must look on while conscience, guided by his hand, lays bare this evil motive, this self-interest, this idolatrous affection, this impure imagination, this envious desire, till as in the chambers of imagery that Ezekiel saw, we discover within us every abomination. Such a searching is like the attempt to cleanse a well whose waters are turbid and foul. You draw out a few buckets, and give time for the pure water to flow in and settle; you then draw again, but to your surprise it is still turbid; you empty bucket after bucket till a deluge of slime is heaped around you; the pure water is flowing in, but so foul is the well that it is continually discolored; again and again must you empty it, before it will send up a limpid pail, and reflect the clear azure of the overhanging sky.
Blessed be God, if in the heart blackened by sin there is a well-spring of life, that after all this wearisome and loathsome emptying of self, will bubble up pure, and from its placid depths mirror forth the light of his countenance. “Search me, O God, and know my heart; try me, and know my thoughts, and see if there be any wicked way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting.”
Extracts from the Golden Treasury.
O send out thy light and thy truth: let them lead me; let them bring me unto thy holy hill, and to thy tabernacles. Psalm xliii, 3. DIVINE ANSWER. The path of the just is as the shining light, that shineth more and more unto the perfect day. Prov. iv, 18.
The wiser we are in our own conceit, the more negligent are we in prayer, the more destitute of true wisdom and faith; for the Lord gives sight only to the blind, and to the babes, who pray for it. Therefore the deepest humblings go before the greatest blessings. O my blessed Saviour; since I am always blind and ignorant of myself if I am not guided by thine eyes, I desire always to look up to thee, and do every thing under thy direction.
Prevent me, lest I harbor pride,
Lest I in my strength confide;
Show me my weakness; let me see
I have my power, my all, from thee.
Enrich me always with thy love,
My kind protector ever prove;
The signet put upon my breast,
And let thy Spirit on me rest.
Assist and teach me how to pray,
Incline my nature to obey;
What thou abhorrest let me flee,
And only love what pleases thee.
O may I never do my will
But thine, and only thine, fulfill;
Let all my time and all my ways
Be spent and ended to thy praise.
To rely on grace, and desire to be saved only by free grace, is a sweet exercise; but so far from being practised enough, we have all need to learn the prayer of the publican better still, since the Pharisee is ever busy to creep in again. But care must be taken that we do not build our faith only upon the sweet enjoyments of the grace of God, as it is procured by Christ, and promised to us through Christ: for which reason God sometimes denies us sensible enjoyments, that true faith may begin to act like itself, and depend upon nothing but his free grace in Christ. And this we have also boldness to do, should we ever seem to fall short of the due measure of faith, godly sorrow, and repentance; for since there is no merit to be placed in these things, there is no certain measure and degree prescribed to all; but it is enough truly to hate sin, to desire grace and sincerely to enter upon the Christian race.
Christ Gave Himself for You
If you have unreservedly given yourself to Christ, you have no reason to doubt that Christ gave himself for you.