After the Lord has quickened our souls, and we try to get serious about our spiritual life; we tend to think that from here on in, our way of life is to keep God's commandments — obey the law — cleanse ourselves from sin — reform our lives — cultivate universal holiness in thought, word, and action — and so we go — blundering and stumbling on in darkness — and all the while never get a single step forward.
We are ever looking for something in self to make ourselves acceptable to God. We are often sadly cast down and discouraged when we cannot find in ourselves — that holiness — that obedience — that calm submission to the will of God — that serenity of soul — that spirituality — that heavenly-mindedness — which we believe to be acceptable in His sight.
Our quick tempers — our fretful, anxious minds — our rebellious thoughts — our coldness and barrenness of heart — our constant struggle with the darkness within us — with the daily feeling that we get no better, but often worse — make us think that God views us just as we view ourselves -- as utter failures. And this brings on great darkness of mind and bondage of spirit — until we seem to lose sight of our acceptance in Christ — and get into the miserable dregs of self — almost ready to quarrel with God over our state of grace, because we seem so vile to ourselves, and only seem to get worse as we go along.
Now the more we get into these dregs of self — and the more we keep looking at the dreadful scenes of wreck and ruin which our heart presents to our daily view — the farther do we get from the grace of the gospel — and the more do we lose sight of the only ground of our acceptance with God.
Hear the words of Paul from the Letter to the Ephesians:
Eph 1:4 According as he hath chosen us in Him before the foundation of the world, that we should be holy and without blame before Him in love:
Eph 1:5 Having predestinated us unto the adoption of children by Jesus Christ to Himself, according to the good pleasure of His will,
Eph 1:6 To the praise of the glory of His grace, wherein He hath made us accepted in the beloved.
It is in His righteousness; His sacrifice; His mercy; and His love that we are accepted into His beloved — and not for any good words — good works — good thoughts — good hearts -- or, for that matter, any good anything of our own. If there be any righteousness in us; it is only because He has placed it there -- not because of any natural seed within us.
But the Lord will allow us to wear ourselves out worrying about our own righteousness -- we all do at one time or another -- and after He has let us sink lower and lower into the pit of guilt and ruin, from feeling that all our attempts to extricate ourselves have only plunged us deeper and deeper into the mire. Here, in this deep pit of shame, as we abandon ourselves, our Lord opens a door within our hearts, and His Spirit floods our soul with a witness to keep us from sinking altogether into despair, without hope or help, without an understanding; and He immerses our soul in a vital discovery of Jesus, who He is, why He came, and of His glorious sacrifice thus making it known -- and clear to us, that there is a Savior, there is a Mediator, and there is a way of escape provided — this is a grand turning point in our walk with God, when we finally see the Opening in the valley of Achor (trouble), a way of life; a door of hope; a way out.
The fruit and the effect of this divine illumination is to cut in pieces, and root up all our fleshly wisdom, strength, and righteousness. God will never patch a new piece upon an old garment. All our wisdom, our strength, our righteousness must be torn to pieces. It must all be ripped out by the roots — that a new wisdom, a new strength, and a new righteousness may arise upon its ruins.
But until the Lord is pleased to drive us to this moment, to our own point of despair, and teach us through His Spirit of Illumination, we never can part with our own righteousness — never give up our own wisdom — never abandon our own strength. These things are a part and parcel of ourselves — they are who we are; so ingrained and innate within us, that we cannot willingly part with them until the Lord Himself demolishes the house we have built up in our own strength. Then, as He flashes into our souls the vision of our corruption and our folly in a thousand ways, and our blindness to all things of the spirit — our wisdom fades away. As He shows us our inability to resist temptation and overcome sin, by any exertion of our own — our confidence in our own strength and righteousness dissipates, and dies, as we begin, at last, to put on the new man.
Upon the bleached remains, then, of our own wisdom, righteousness and strength, does God build up Christ's wisdom, Christ's righteousness, and Christ's strength. But only so far as we are filled with His Spirit can a death sentence be carried out upon our own wisdom, strength, and righteousness — and a new life in our risen Lord begin.
"As dying, and, behold, we live." 2 Corinthians 6:9
Though we die, and die daily — yet, behold, we live. And in a sense, the more we die, the more we live. The more we die to self — the more we die to sin. The more we die to pride and self-righteousness — the more we die to creature strength. The more we die to sinful nature — the more we live to grace. This runs all the way through the life and experience of a believer.
Nature must die, that grace may live. The weeds must be plucked up, that the crop may grow. The flesh must be starved, that the spirit may be fed. The old man must be put off, that the new man may be put on. The deeds of the body must be mortified, that the soul may live unto God. As then we die — we live. The more we die to our own strength, the more we live to Christ's strength. The more we die to creature hope, the more we live to a solid hope through grace. The more we die to our own righteousness, the more we live to Christ's righteousness. The more we die to the world, the more we live to and for the Kingdom of Heaven. This is the grand mystery — that the believer is always suffering, yet always joyful; always emptying himself, yet always full; always dying, yet eternally alive — and the more he dies, the more he lives. For the death of the flesh, is the life of the spirit, and the death of sin, is the life of righteousness. The death of the creature, is the very life of God in our souls. And this, my friends is our only way of escape; our only way out: "As dying, and, behold, we live."
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