Indeed, self love is that which blinds us, and bemists us in the sight of ourselves. We look upon ourselves through this false medium, and it represents all things more beautiful than they are, and therefore the apostle hath reason to say, "We deceive ourselves, and we make God a liar." O how much practical self-conceit is there in the application of truth! There are many errors contrary to the truths themselves, and many deceivers and deceived, who spread them, but I believe there are more errors committed by men in the application of truths to their own hearts, than in the contemplation of them, and more self deceiving than deceiving of others. It is strange to think, how sound, and clear, and distinct a man's judgment will be against those evils in others, which yet he seeth not in himself, how many Christians will be able to decipher the nature of some vices, and unbowel the evils of them, and be quick-sighted to espy the least appearance of them in another, and to condemn it, and yet so partial are they in judging themselves,—self-love so purblinds them in this reflection, that they cannot discern that in themselves, which others cannot but discern! How often do men declaim against pride, and covetousness, and self-seeking, and other evils of that kind? They will pour out a flood of eloquence and zeal against them, and yet it is strange they do not advert, that they are accusing themselves, and impannelling themselves in such discourses, though others, it may be, will easily perceive a predominancy of these evils in them. "Who art thou, O man, who judgeth another, and doest the same thing? Canst thou escape God's judgment?" Rom. ii. 1. Consider this, O Christian, that thou mayest learn to turn the edge of all thy censures and convictions against thyself, that thou mayest prevent all men's judgments of thee, in judging thyself all things that men can judge thee, that is, a chief of sinners, that hath the root of all sin in thee, and so thou mayest anticipate the divine judgment too, "for if we judge ourselves, we shall not be judged." Labour thou to know those evils that are incident to thy nature, before others can know them, that is, in the root and fountain, before they come to the fruit and stream, to know sins in the first conceptions of them, before they come to such productions as are visible, and this shall keep thee humble, and preserve thee from much sin, and thou shalt not deceive thyself, nor dishonour God, in making him a liar, but rather set to thy seal to this truth, and his word shall abide in thee.

There is a common rule that we have in judging ourselves, by comparing ourselves amongst ourselves, which, as Paul saith, "is not wisdom," 2 Cor. x. 12. When we do not measure ourselves by the perfect rule of God's holy word, but parallel ourselves with other persons, who are still defective from the rule, far further from it than anyone is from another, this is the ordinary method of the judging of self love. We compare with the worst persons, and if we be not so bad as they, we think ourselves good. If not so ignorant as some are, we presume that we know, if not so profane as many, we believe ourselves religious. "Lord, I am not as this publican," so say many in their hearts,—there is a curser, a swearer, a drunkard, a blind ignorant soul, that neglects prayer in private and public, and upon these ruins of others' sins, they build some better estimation of themselves. But, I pray you, what will that avail you, to be unlike them, if you be more unlike your pattern than they are unlike you? It must be, others will compare with those that are good, but it is with that which is worst in them, and not that which is best. How often do men reckon this way,—here is a good man, here is an eminent person, yet he is such and such, subject to such infirmities, and here self-love flatters itself, and, by flattering, deceives itself. My beloved, let us learn to establish a more perfect rule, which may show all our imperfections. Let our rule ascend, that our hearts may descend in humility. But when our role and pattern descends to men of like infirmities, then our pride and self conceit ascends, and the higher we be that way in our own account, the lower we are indeed, and in God's account, and the lower we be in ourselves we lose nothing by it; for, as God is higher in our account, so we are higher in God's account, according to that standing rule, Matth. xxiii. 12, "Whosoever shall exalt himself shall be abased, and he that shall humble himself shall be exalted."



Sermon XXI.

1 John ii. 1.—"My little children, these things write I unto you, that ye sin not. And if any man sin, we have an advocate with the Father," &c.

The gospel is an entire uniform piece, all the parts of it are interwoven through other, and interchangeably knit together, so that there can be no dividing of it any more than of Christ's coat that was without seam. If you have it not altogether by the divine lot, you cannot truly have any part of it, for they are so knit together, that if you disjoin them, you destroy them, and if they cease to be together, they cease altogether to be. I speak this, because there may be pretensions to some abstracted parts of Christianity. One man pretends to faith in Jesus Christ, and persuasion of pardon of sin, and in this there may be some secret glorying arising from that confidence, another may pretend to the study of holiness and obedience, and may endeavour something that way to do known duties, and abstain from gross sins. Now, I say, if the first do not conjoin the study of the second, and if the second do not lay down the first as the foundation, both of them embrace a shadow for the thing itself, because they separate those things that God hath joined, and so can have no being but in men's fancy, when they are not conjoined. He that would pretend to a righteousness of Christ, without him, must withal study to have the righteousness of the law fulfilled within him, and he that endeavours to have holiness within must withal go out of himself, to seek a righteousness without him, whereupon to build his peace and acceptance with God, or else, neither of them hath truly any righteousness without them, to cover them, or holiness within, to cleanse them. Now, here the beloved apostle shows us this divine contexture of the gospel. The great and comprehensive end and design of the gospel is, peace in pardon of sin, and purity from sin. "These things I write unto you, that you sin not," &c. The gospel is comprised in commands and promises, both make one web, and link in together. The immediate end of the command is, "that we sin not," nay, but there is another thing always either expressly added, or tacitly understood—"but if any man sin," that desires not to sin, "we have an advocate with the Father." So the promise comes in as a subsidiary help to all the precepts. It is annexed to give security to a poor soul from despair, and therefore the apostle teacheth you a blessed art of constructing all the commands and exhortations of the gospel, those of the highest pitch, by supplying the full sense with this happy and seasonable caution or caveat, "but if any man sin," &c. Doth that command, "Be ye holy as I am holy," perfect as your heavenly Father, which sounds so much unattainable perfection, and seems to hold forth an inimitable pattern, doth it, I say, discourage thee? Then, use the apostle's art, add this caution to the command, subjoin this sweet exceptive,—"but if any man," that desires to be holy, and gives himself to this study, fail often, and fall and defile himself with unholiness, let him not despair, but know, that he hath "an advocate with the Father." If that of Paul's urge thee, "present your bodies a living sacrifice,—and be not conformed to the world," but transformed, and "glorify God in your bodies and spirits," which are his, (Rom. xii. 1, 2, 1 Cor. vi. 20,)—and, cleanse yourselves "from all filthiness of the flesh and spirit," (2 Cor. vii. 1,)—and, "walk in the Spirit," and "walk as children of the light," &c.,—if these do too rigorously exact upon thee, so as to make thee lose thy peace, and weaken thy heart and hands, learn to make out a full sentence, and fill up the full sense and meaning of the gospel, according as you see it done here. But if any man,—whose inward heart-desires, and chief designs are toward these things, who would think himself happy in holiness and conformity to God, and estimates his blessedness or misery, from his union or separation from God,—"sin" then "we have an advocate with the Father, even Jesus Christ the righteous," who hath all that we want, and will not suffer any accusation to fasten upon us, as long as he lives "to make intercession for us."

On the other hand, take a view of the promises of the gospel. Though the immediate and next end of them is to give peace to troubled souls, and settle us in the high point of our acceptance with God, yet certainly they have a further end, even purity from sin, as well as pardon of sin, cleansing from all sin and filthiness as well as covering of filthiness. "These things I write unto you, that ye sin not." What things? Consider what goes before, and what follows after, even the publication of the word of life, and eternal life in him, the declaration of our fellowship with God in Christ the offering of the blood of Christ, able to cleanse all sin, the promise of pardon to the penitent, confession of sin,—all these things I write, "that ye sin not," so that this seems to be the ultimate end and chief design of the gospel, unto which all tends, unto which all work together. The promises are for peace, and peace is for purity, the promises are for faith, and faith is for purifying of the heart, and performing the precepts, so that, all at length returns to this, from whence, while we swerved, all this misery is come upon us. In the beginning it was thus,—man was created to glorify God, by obedience to his blessed will, sin interposeth and marreth the whole frame, and from this hath a flood of misery flowed in upon us. Well, the gospel comes offering a Saviour, and forgiveness in him. Thus peace is purchased, pardon granted, the soul is restored unto its primitive condition and state of subordination to God's will, and so redemption ends where creation began, or rather in a more perfect frame of the same kind. The second Adam builds what the first Adam broke down, and the Son re-creates what the Father in the beginning created, yea, with some addition. In this new edition of mankind, all seems new—"new heavens, and new earth," and that because the creature that was made old, and defiled with sin, is made new by grace. Now, hence you may learn the second part of this lesson that the apostle teaches us; as ye ought to correct, as it were, precepts of the gospel, by subjoining promises in this manner, so ye ought to direct promises towards the performance of his precepts, as their chief end. Whensoever you read it written, "The blood of Christ cleanseth us from all sin,"—"If we confess, he is faithful to forgive our sins,"—"God so loved the world that he gave his Son,"—"He that believeth hath everlasting life," &c.—then make up the entire sense and meaning after this manner, "These things are written that we sin not." Is there a redemption from wrath published? Is there reconciliation with God preached? And are we beseeched to come and have the benefit of them? Then say, and supply within thine own heart, These things are written, published, and preached, that we may not sin. Look to the furthest end of these things, it is, "that we sin not." The end of things, the scope of writings, and the purpose of actions, is the very measure of them, and so that is the best interpreter of them. The scope of scripture is by all accounted the very thread that will lead a man right in and out of the labyrinths that are in it. And so it is used as the rule of the interpretation in the parts of it. Now, my beloved in the Lord, take here the scope of the whole scriptures, the mark that all the gospel shoots at, "These things I write unto you, that ye sin not." You hear, it is true, of pardon of sin, of delivery from wrath, of not coming into condemnation, of covering offences, of blotting them out as a cloud, all these you read and hear of, but what do they all aim at? If you consider not that attentively you shall no more understand the plain gospel, than you can expound a parable without observing the scope of it. Do you think these have no further aim, than to give you peace, and to secure you from fears and terrors, that you may then walk as you list, and follow the guiding of your own hearts? Nay, if you take it so, you totally mistake it. If you do not read on, and had all these things written to this end, "that ye sin not," you err, not understanding, or misunderstanding, the scriptures.

"These things I write unto you, little children." To enforce this the more sweetly, he useth this affectionate compellation, "little children," for in all things affection hath a mighty stroke, almost as much as reason. It is the most suitable way to prevail with the spirit of a man, to deal in love and tenderness with it, it speaks more sweetly, and so can have less resistance, and therefore works more strongly. It is true, another way of terrors threatening, and reproofs, mingled with sharp and heavy words of challenges, may make a great deal of more noise, and yet it hath not such virtue to prevail with a rational soul. The Spirit of the Lord was not in the wind, nor in the earthquake, nor in the fire, but in the still and calm voice which came to Elijah, 1 Kings xix. 11, 12. These suit not the gentle, dove-like disposition of the Spirit; and though they be fit to rend rocks in pieces, yet they cannot truly break hearts, and make them contrite. The sun will make a man sooner part with his cloak than the wind, such is the difference between the warm beams of affection, and the boisterous violence of passions or terror. Now, O that there were such a spirit in them who preach the gospel, such a fatherly affection, that with much pity and compassion they might call sinners from the ways of death! O there is no subject, in which a man may have more room for melting affections, nothing that will admit of such bowels of compassion as this—the multitude of souls posting to destruction, and so blindfolded that they cannot see it! Here the fountain of tears might be opened to run abundantly. The Lord personates a tender hearted father or husband often, "Oh, why will ye die? Ye have broken my heart with your whorish heart. O Jerusalem, how oft would I, but thou wouldst not!" When he, who is not subject to human passions, expresseth himself thus, how much more doth it become us poor creatures to have pity on our fellow-creatures? Should it not press out from us many groans, to see so many perishing, even beside salvation. I wish you would take it so, that the warning you to flee from the wrath to come, is the greatest act of favour and love that can be done to you. It becomes us to be solicitous about you, and declare unto you, that you will meet with destruction in those paths in which you walk; that these ways go down to the chambers of death. O that it might be done with so much feeling compassion of your misery, as the necessity of it requires! But, why do many of you take it so hard to be thus forewarned, and have your danger declared unto you? I guess at the reason of it. You are in a distempter as sick children distempered in a fever, who are not capable of discerning their parents' tender affection, when it crosseth their own inclinations and ways.



Sermon XXII.

1 John ii. 1.—"My little children, these things write I unto you, that ye sin not. And if any man sin, we have an advocate with the Father,", &c.

Christ Jesus came by water and by blood, not by water only, but by blood also, and I add, not by blood only but by water also, chap. v. 6. In sin there is the guilt binding over to punishment, and there is the filth or spot that defileth the soul in God's sight. To take away guilt, nothing so fit as blood for there is no punishment beyond blood, therefore saith the apostle, "without the shedding of blood there is no remission of sin," Heb. ix. 22, and for the stain and spot, nothing is so suitable as water, for that is generally appointed for cleansing. And some shadow of this the heathens had, who had their lustrations in water, and their expiations by blood,(249) but more significantly and plainly, the Jews, who had their purifications by sprinkling of water, (Num. viii. 7.) and expiations by sacrificing of slain beasts. But all these were but evanishing shadows; now the substance is come, Jesus Christ is come in water and blood; in water, to cleanse the spots of the soul, to purify it from all filthiness; and in blood, to satisfy for sin, and remove the punishment. You have both in these words of the apostle, for he labours to set out unto us the true Christ, whole and entire, "these things I write unto you, that ye sin not." Here is the proper end of the water—and "if any man sin, we have Christ a propitiation for our sins." Here is the blood—the end of the blood is to save us, the end of the water is that we sin not, since we are saved. He came in the blood of expiation, because we had sinned. He came in the water of sanctification, that we might not sin. His blood speaks peace to the soul, and the water subjoins, "but let them not return to folly." His blood cries, "behold thou art made whole." And the water echoes unto it, "sin no more, lest a worse thing befall thee," John v. 14. These two streams of water and blood, which are appointed for purity and pardon, run intermingled all along, and so the proper effects of them are interchangeably attributed to either of them; "he hath washed us in his blood," (Rev. i. 5; vii. 14.) "and the blood of Christ cleanseth us from all sin." Then, certainly, this blood cannot be without water, it is never separated from it. The proper effect of blood is to cover sin; but because the water runs in that channel, and is conveyed by the blood thither, therefore it doth cleanse sin, as well as cover it.

"These things I write unto you, that ye sin not." This then is the design of the whole gospel, the great and grand design,—to destroy sin, and save the sinner. There is a treaty of peace made with the sinner, and "Christ is the peace-maker." A tender of life and salvation is made to him, but there is no treaty, no capitulation or composition with sin; out it must go, first out of its dominion, then out of its habitation. It must first lose its power, and then its being in a believer. Yea, this is one of the chief articles of our peace, not only required of us as our duty, that we should destroy that which cannot but destroy us; for, if any man will needs hug and embrace his sins, and cannot part with them, he must needs die in their embracements, because the council of heaven hath irrevocably passed a fatal sentence against sin, as the only thing that in all the creation hath the most perfect opposition to his blessed will, and contrariety to his holy nature,—but also, and especially, as the great stipulation and promise upon his part, "to redeem us from all our iniquities, and purify us to himself, a people zealous of good works;" and not only to redeem us from hell, and deliver us from wrath, Tit. ii. 14. He hath undertaken this great work, to compesce (250) this mutiny and rebellion that was raised up in the creation by sin, else what peace could be between God and us, as long as his enemy and ours dwelt in our bosom, and we at peace with it.

Now, take a short view of these things that are written in the preceding chapter, and you shall see that the harmonious voice of all that is in the gospel, is this, "that we sin not." Let me say further, as "these things are written that we sin not," so all things are done "that we sin not." Take all the whole work of creation, of providence, of redemption,—all of them speak one language, "that we sin not." "Day unto day uttereth speech, and night unto night showeth knowledge: there is no speech or language where their voice is not heard," Psalm xix. 2, 3. And, as in that place, their voice proclaims the glory, majesty, and goodness of God, so they, with the same sound, proclaim and declare, that we should not sin against such a God, so great, and so good. All that we see suggests and insinuates this unto our hearts; all that we hear whispers this unto our ears, "that we sin not, that he made us, and not we ourselves, and that we are the very work of his hands." This speaks our absolute and essential dependence on him, and therefore proclaims with a loud voice, that sin, which would cut off this subordination, and loose from this dependence upon his holy will, is a monstrous, unnatural thing. Take all his mercies towards us, whether general or particular, the transcendent abundance of his infinite goodness in the earth, that river of his riches that runs through it, to water every man, and bring supply to his doors, that infinite variety that is in heaven and earth, and all of them of equal birth-right with man; yet by the law of our Maker, a yoke of subjection and service to man is imposed upon them, so that man is, in a manner, set in the centre of all, to the end, that all the several qualifications and perfections that are in every creature, may concentre and meet together in him, and flow towards him. Look upon all his particular acts of care and favour towards thee, consider his judgments upon the world, upon the nation, or thine own person. Put to thine ear, and hear. This is the joint harmonious melody, this is the proclamation of all, "that we sin not," that we sin not against so good a God, and so great a God. That were wickedness, this were madness. If he wound, it is "that we sin not:" if he heal again, it is "that we sin not." Doth he kill? It is "that we sin not!" Doth he make alive? It is for the same end. Doth he shut up and restrain our liberty, either by bondage, or sickness, or other afflictions? Why, he means "that we sin not." Doth he open again? He means the same thing, "that we sin no more, lest a worse thing befall us." Doth he make many to fall in battle, and turn the fury of that upon us? The voice of it is, that you who are left behind should "sin no more." Is there severity towards others, and towards you clemency? O the loud voice of that is, "sin not!" But alas, the result of all is, that which is written, Psal. lxxviii. 32.—"Nevertheless they sinned still." In the midst of so many concurring testimonies, in the very throng of all the sounds and voices that all the works of God utter, in the very hearing of these, nevertheless to sin still, and not to return and inquire early after God,—this is the plague and judgment of the nation.

But let us return to the words, "these things," &c. "That which is written of the word of life, that which was from the beginning, and was manifested unto us," that is written "that we sin not:" For, saith this same apostle, chap. iii. 5, 8, "And ye know that he was manifested to take away our sins, and in him is no sin;" yea, for this very purpose, saith he, "that he might destroy the works of the devil." Now, this is the great business, that drew the Son out of the Father's bosom,—to destroy the arch-enemy and capital rebel, sin, which, as to man, is a work of Satan's, because it first entered in man by the devil's suggestion and counsel. All that misery and ruin, all those works of darkness and death, that Satan had by his malice and policy wrought upon and in poor mankind, Jesus was manifested in the flesh without sin, to destroy and take away sin out of our flesh, and to abolish and destroy Satan's work, which he had builded upon the ruins of God's work, of the image of God, and to repair and renew that first blessed work of God in man, Eph. iv. 23, 24.

Now, O how cogent and persuading is this; one so high, come down so low, one dwelling in inaccessible glory, manifested in the flesh, in the infirmity and weakness of it, to this very purpose, to repair the creation, to make up the breaches of it, to destroy sin, and save the sinner! What force is in this to persuade a soul that truly believes it, "not to sin!" For, may he think within himself, shall I save that which Christ came to destroy, shall I entertain and maintain that which he came to take away, and do what in me lies to frustrate the great end of his glorious and wonderful descent from heaven? Shall I join hands, and associate with my lusts, and war for them, "which war against my soul," and him that would save my soul? Nay, let us conclude, my beloved, within our own hearts,—Is the Word and Prince of life manifested from heaven, and come to mar and unmake that work of Satan, that he may rescue me from under his tyranny? Then God forbid that I should help Satan to build up that which my Saviour is casting down, and to make a prison for myself, and cords to bind me in it for everlasting. Nay, will a believing soul say, rather let me be a worker together with Christ. Though faintly, yet I resolve to wrestle with him, to pull down all the strongholds that Satan keeps in my nature, and so to congratulate and consent to him, who is the avenger and assertor of my liberty.

Then consider the greatest end and furthest design of the gospel, how it is inseparably chained and linked into this, "that we sin not." We are called to fellowship with the Father and the Son, and herein is his glory and our happiness. Now, this proclaims with a loud voice, "that we sin not," for, what more contrary to that design of union and communion with God, than to sin, which disunites and discommunicates the soul from God. The nature of sin you know, is the transgression of his law, and so it is the very just opposition of the creatures will to the will of him that made it. Now, how do ye imagine that this can consist with true friendship and fellowship, which looseth that conjunction of wills and affections, which is the bond of true friendship, and the ground of fellowship? Idem velle atque idem nolle, haec demum vera amicitia est.(251) The conspiracy of our desires and delights in one point with God's, this sweet coincidency makes our communion, and what communion then can there be with God, when that which his soul abhors is your delight, and his delight is not your desire? "What communion hath light with darkness?" Sin is darkness. All sin but especially sin entertained and maintained, sin that hath the full consent of the heart, and carrieth the whole man after it, that is Egyptian darkness, an universal darkness over the soul. This being interposed between God and the soul, breaks off communion, eclipses that soul totally. Therefore, my beloved, if you do believe that you are called unto this high dignity of fellowship with God, and if your souls be stirred with some holy ambition after it, consider that "these things are written that ye sin not." Consider what baseness is in it, for one that hath such a noble design, as fellowship with the Highest, to debase his soul so far and so low, as to serve sinful and fleshly lusts. There is a vileness and wretchedness in the service of sin, that any soul, truly and nobly principled, cannot but look upon it with indignation, because he can behold nothing but indignity in it. "Shall I who am a ruler," saith Nehemiah, "shall such a man as I flee? and who is there that being as I am, would flee?" Neh. vi. 11. A Christian hath more reason. Shall such a man as I, who am born again to such a hope, and called to such a high dignity, shall I, who aim and aspire so high as fellowship with God, debase and degrade myself with the vilest servitude? Shall I defile in that puddle again, till my own clothes abhor me, who aim at so pure and so holy a society? Shall I yoke in myself with drunkards, liars, swearers, and other slaves of sin? Shall I rank myself thus, and conform myself to the world, seeing there is a noble and glorious society to incorporate with, the King of kings to converse with daily? Alas, what are these worms that sit on thrones to him? But far more, how base are these companions in iniquity, your pot companions? &c. And what a vile society is it like that of the bottomless pit, where devils are linked together in chains?



Sermon XXIII.

1 John ii. 1.—"My little children, these things write I unto you, that ye sin not. And if any man sin, we have an advocate with the Father," &c.

In the gospel we have the most perfect provision against both these extremities, that souls are ready to run upon, the rock of desperate distrust, and the quicksands of presumptuous wantonness. It may be said to be a well-ordered covenant in all things, that hath caveated and cautioned the whole matter of our salvation, in such a way, that there is neither place for discouragement and downcasting, nor yet room for liberty in sin. There is no exemption from the obligation of God's holy law, and yet there is pardon for the breach of it, and exemption from the curse. There is no peace, no capitulation with sin, and yet there is peace concluded with the sinner, who is, by that agreement, bound to fall out with sin. There is no dispensation for sin, and from the perfection of holiness, and yet there is an advocation for the sinner, who aims and studies after it. So that, in sum, the whole gospel is comprised in this,—"he speaks peace to his saint, but let them not return to folly; thou art made whole, sin no more." All that is in the gospel saith this, "that thou shouldst sin no more." But because sin is necessarily incident, therefore all that is in the gospel speaks this further,—though ye be surprised in sin, yet believe, and this is the round in which a believer is to walk,—to turn from pardon to purity, and from pollution again to pardon, for these voices and sounds are interchanged continually. If ye have sinned, believe in Christ the advocate and sacrifice, and, because ye have believed, sin not, but if ye be overtaken in sin, yet believe. And as this is daily renewed, so the soul's study and endeavour in them, should be daily renewed too. If ye have sinned, despair not, if ye be pardoned, yet presume not. After sin there is hope, it is true, because "there is forgiveness with him," but after forgiveness, there must be fear to offend his goodness, for there is forgiveness with him, that he may be feared, Psal. cxxx. 4 And this is the situation I would desire my soul in,—to be placed between hope of his mercy and fear of sin, the faith of his favour and the hatred of sin, which he will not favour, and how happy were a soul to be confined within these, and kept captive to its true liberty.

I spake a little before, how those fundamental truths that are set down before, do all aim at this one mark, "that we sin not," now I proceed. That declaration what God is, verse 5, is expressly directed to this purpose and applied, verse 6—"God is light," and therefore "sin not," for sin is darkness, "he is light," for purity and beauty of holiness, and perfection of knowledge,—that true light in which is no darkness,—that unmixed light, all homogeneous to itself,—therefore "sin not," for that is a work of the night, and of the darkness, that proceeds from the blindness and estrangement of your minds, and ignorance of your hearts, and it cannot but prepare and fit you for those everlasting chains of darkness. Call God what you will, name all his names, styles, and titles, spell all the characters of it, and still you may find it written at every one of them, "sin not." Is he light? Then sin not. Is he life? Then sin not, for sin will separate you from his light and life, sin will darken your souls and kill them. Is he love? Then sin not. "God is love," saith John, O then sin not against love! Hatred of any good thing is deformed; but the hatred of the beautiful image of the original love, that is monstrous. "God is love," and in his love is your life and light, then to sin against him is not simple disobedience, nor is it only grosser rebellion, but it hath that abominable stain of ingratitude in it. Do you read, that it is written, "he is holy?" Then sin not, for this is most repugnant to his holiness,—"his holy eyes cannot see it." Therefore, if thou wouldst have him look upon thee with favour, thou must not look upon sin with favour, or entertain it with delight. Is it written, that he is great and powerful?—Then sin not—that were madness. Is it written, that he is good and gracious? Then it is written, that ye sin not, for that were wickedness, it were an unspeakable folly and madness, to offend so great a God, that can so easily avenge himself; and it were abominable perverseness, and wickedness, to sin against so good and gracious a God, who, though he may avenge himself, yet offers pardon and peace, and beseecheth us to accept it. Is he just? Then sin not, for "he will not acquit the wicked nor hold them guiltless,"—them who do acquit themselves, and yet hold by their sins. And is he merciful? Then, O then, sin not, because he hath acquitted thee, because he is ready to blot out thy guilt! Wilt thou sin against mercy that must save thee? Again, is it written, that the blood of Jesus Christ cleanseth from all sin? That is written, that ye sin not. It is true, it is written, because ye have sinned already, that ye may know how it may be pardoned. But, moreover, it is written, "that ye sin no more," that so more sin may be prevented, at least, deliberate continued walking in sin. So that this blood hath a twofold virtue and use, to be the greatest encouragement to a soul troubled for sin, and the chiefest argument and inducement for a soul not to sin. This medicine, or this plaster, hath two notable virtues, restorative and preservative, to restore the bones that already are broken, through falling in sin and to preserve our feet from further falling in sin. It hath a healing virtue for those bruises that are in the soul, and, besides, it is an anti-hate and sovereign preservative against the poison and infection of sin and the world. What motive is like this? The Son of God shed his blood for our sins, they cost a dear price. O how precious was the ransom! More precious than gold, and silver, and precious stones, because the redemption of the soul is so precious, that it would have ceased forever without it. Now, what soul can deliberately think of this, and receive it with any affection into the heart, but shall find the most vehement persuasion against sin? He cannot but behold the heinousness and infinite evil that is in it, which required such an infinite recompense. And can a soul on that view run to the puddle and defile again, when he sees how dearly the fountain for cleansing was purchased? Can a believing heart have such treacherous thoughts harboured within it, to crucify afresh the Lord of glory, and, as it were, to trample under feet his blood? No, certainly, he that believes in this blood cannot use it so dishonourably and basely, as it is written, that he sin not, so he reads it, and believes it, that he may not sin, as well as because he hath sinned. Many speak of this blood, and think they apply it to the cleansing of their sin past, but it is rather that they may sin with more liberty, as if the end of vomiting up a surfeit of sin were to surfeit more, and the end of washing, were nothing else but to defile again. Certainly this blood is not for such souls,—not one word of comfort in the word,—not one drop of hope in the blood, to those who pretend to believe in Christ's blood, and continue in sin, as fresh and lively as ever they did, nothing abated of their desires or customs. But if we confess our sins, God will forgive, say you, and this we may do at any time, and this we do daily. Nay, but saith John, this is "written that you sin not," not to encourage you to sin. It is not recorded for this end, that you may live after your own imaginations and former customs, with security and peace, upon this presumption, that pardon is easily procurable, if say, "God have mercy upon me, ere I die." Do not deceive yourselves, for it is written just for the contrary, "that you sin no more, and return no more to folly." If he had said, if we sin, though we confess yet he is just to punish us, you would then be driven to desperation, and from that to a desperate conclusion. Since we must be punished, however, let us not punish ourselves here, in mortifying our flesh,—"let us eat and drink, for to morrow we shall die." Die we must, let us deserve it, for where there is no hope, there is no help for reformation.

But now, when there is such an unexpected proposal of grace, when God, who is free to punish us, becomes indebted by his promise to forgive our debts, we humbly submitting to him, and confessing our guiltiness, this surprisal of clemency and moderation should, yea, certainly will, overcome any heart that truly believes it, and conquer it to his love and obedience. The more easily he forgives sin, the more hardly will a believing heart be drawn to sin. You know any ingenuous spirit will more easily be conquered by kindness and condescendency, than severity and violence. These "cords of love are the bands of a man," suited to the nature of men in whom there is any sparkle of ingenuousness remaining. How often have men been engaged and overcome by clemency and goodness, who could not be conquered by force of arms? Enemies have been made friends by this means, such power is in it to knit hearts together. Augustus, when he was acquainted with the conspiracy of one of his chief minions, Cinna, whom he had made a friend of an enemy, by kindness and courtesy, takes the same way to make of a traitor a constant friend. He doth not punish him as he had done others, but calls for him, and declares unto him his vile ingratitude, that when he had given him life and liberty, he should conspire to take away his prince's life. Well, when he is confounded and astonished, and cannot open his mouth, saith Augustus, I give thee thy life again, first an open enemy, and now a traitor, yet from this day, let an inviolable friendship be bound up between us, and so it proved, for this way of dealing did totally overcome his heart, and blot out all seditious thoughts.(252) But, O how incomparably greater is his condescendency and clemency, whose person is so high and sacred, whose laws are so just and holy, and we so base and wretched,—to pardon such infinite guilt, rebellion, and treachery, against such an infinite majesty, and that, when a soul doth but begin to blush, and be ashamed with itself, and cannot open its mouth! I say, this rare and unparalleled goodness and mercy being considered, cannot but tame and daunt the wildest and most savage natures. Wild beast are not brought into subjection and tamed, but by gentle usage. It is not fierceness and violence can cure their fierceness, but meekness and condescendency to follow their humours and soft dealing with them. As a rod is not bowed by great strength, but broken, even so those things of the promise of pardon for sin, of the grace and readiness of God to pardon upon the easiest terms, are written for this end, that our wild and undaunted natures may be tamed, and may bow and submit willingly to the yoke of his obedience, and may henceforth knit such a sacred bond of friendship and fellowship with God, as may never be broken.

But, say ye, who is he that sins not? Who can say, my heart is pure, and my way is clean? Who can say, I have no sin? And therefore that cannot be expected which you crave. Nay, but saith the apostle, "These things I write unto you, that ye sin not." Because sin is in all, therefore you excuse yourselves in your sins, and take liberty to sin. But the very contrary is the intent of the declaring unto us that we have sin, he shows that none want it, not that ye may be the more indulgent towards it, but the more watchful against it. It is not to make you secure, but rather to give you alarm. Even the best and holiest,—it is an alarm to them, to tell them that sin is in confinus, in their very borders, that the enemy is even in their quarters, yea, in their bosom. Certainly, this should so much the more excite us against it, and arm us for it every moment, lest either by fraud or force, by secret undermining or open violence, it draw us away from God. This word, "if we say we have no sin, we lie," is a watchword given to men, a warning to enter in consideration of themselves, for the enemy being within, there is no flying from him. We carry him about with us, and being within, he is less discerned, and therefore we ought to awake, and so walk circumspectly, with eyes in our head, lest we be surprised at unawares, either in that time we know not of, or at that place we least suspect. And to others of you, who have never attained any victory over your sins, and scarce have a discerning of them, I would only say this, that the universality of sin's inhabitation, or being in all men, even the godly, will not excuse sin's domination and reign in you. It is strange, that since the holiest have need of continual watching against this bosom enemy, that ye who have both little knowledge and strength, should think ye may live securely, and not trouble yourselves. If they have need to take heed, how much more have ye, since it is but in them, but it reigns in you?



Sermon XXIV.

1 John ii. 1.—"And if any man sin, we have an advocate with the Father,", &c.

There is here a sad supposition, but too certain, that any man may sin, yea, that all men will sin, even those who have most communion with God, and interest in the blood of Christ. Yet they are not altogether exempted from this fatal lot of mankind. It is incident even to them to sin, and too frequently incident, but yet we have a happy and sweet provision, for indemnity from the hazard of sin,—"we have an advocate with the Father." Grant the probability, yea, the necessity and certainty of that supposal, "if any man do sin," yet there is as much certainty of indemnity from sin, as of necessity of falling into sin. It is not more sure, that we shall carry about with us matter of sorrow and mourning, but that it is as sure, that we have always without us matter of rejoicing.

Let me then speak a word to these particulars. First, That sin is incident to the best, even after all persuasions, convictions, resolutions, desires, and designs to avoid sin. Next, That it is usual for sins after mercy, convictions, and resolution, to appear so heinous, that they may seem to overtop the mercy of God, and the merits of Christ, a soul is most apt to be troubled with guilt contracted after pardon, and a desire of purity. But withal I would, in the Last place represent to you, that there is no ground of despair or discouragement for such an one though there be ground of humiliation and mourning. There is a provision made in the gospel against these continually incident fears, there is a security against the hazard of surprising sins, and, this comfort belongs only to such souls as unfeignedly desire not to sin, and are in some measure persuaded by the grace of God not to sin, not to those who willingly give themselves up to their own lusts. It is as common a doctrine as any, that sin hath some lodging in every man's heart and flesh, and is not totally cast out, but only bound with chains within, that it do not exercise its old dominion over a believer. But I fear, the most common truths, though they be most substantial in themselves, are yet but circumstantial in our apprehensions, and very rarely and extraordinarily have place in the deeper and more serious thoughts of our hearts. They are commonly confessed, it is true, but as seldom considered, I am sure. For who did truly ponder the inclineableness of our nature to sin, the strong propension of the heart to evil, the deceitfulness of sin itself, and the many circumstantial helps and additions it gets to its strength, but would stand in awe, and watch seriously over himself. I dare say, many sin, rather because of a misapprehended immunity from it and a misreckoning of their own measure and strength, than because of the strength of sin itself. I know no one thing makes sin so strong as this,—that we do not apprehend our own weakness, and so give over watchfulness, which is the greatest and best part of our armour of defence, when it is done in faith, and this watch kept on the tower of the Lord's promises. The apprehension of our escaping the pollutions of the world, and of some strength to resist them; this adds no more strength to us, but diminisheth and taketh from our vigilance and so exposeth us, as it were, naked and secure, to the cruelty of our adversary. I would wish every Christian to be thoroughly acquainted, and often conversant in two books of sophistry, I may so term them—the deceitfulness of his own heart, and the deceivableness of sin, Jer. xvii. and Heb. iii. 13. These are the volumes he would daily turn over to learn to discern the sophistications, self flatteries, blindness, darkness, and self love of his own heart, to take off the deceiving mask of pretences and appearances of good, and behold sensibly the true and real inclinations of the heart to wickedness, to passion, pride, uncleanness, malice, envy, and all those affections of the flesh,—to find out the true beating of the pulse of the heart. And indeed this just discerning and discovery of the thief in the soul, is a great part of his arraignment, for if sin be under the view of an eye that hates it, and loves God, much of its power and virtue, which be in darkness, is taken away. I press this the more because I verily apprehend it to be the plague of many Christians, who have some general insight into the matter of good and evil, and espy some more gross corruption in themselves, and have some affection to good. Yet this estrangedness to our own hearts, and the vein or strain of them, the not unbowelling of our hidden affections, and not discerning of the poison of pride, self love, love of the world, and such like lusts, which are intermingled in all that we do, and spread, as it were, universally through the whole man, this, I say, makes most of us to be subject to so many surprisals by sin. We are often routed before we draw up, and often conquered ere we consider. This makes us such unproficients in mortification, so that scarce any sin is killed, while the roots of all sin lie hid under the ground from us. Then withal, I desire you to study how deceivable a thing sin is,—how many deceitful fair pretences it is covered with. It hath the voice of Jacob, but the hands of Esau. Look, what it is that is pleasant or suitable to our natural spirits,—it insinuates itself always under the shadow of that, and if there be not much heedfulness and attention, and much experience of the wiles of that subtile one, it is a great hazard to be catched with it unadvisedly, while we clasp about another thing which is presented as a bait and allurement. Now, is it any wonder that a poor soul be drawn to sin often, when our enemy doth not for the most part profess hostility, but friendship, and under that colour pleads admission within our ports? And, besides, we have a treacherous friend in our bosom, that betrays us into his hands, that is, our own deceitful hearts. These things I mention to put you in remembrance of what condition you are in, in this world, and what posture you should be in. Watch, I say, and when ye have done all, stand with your loins girt, and though you cannot possibly escape all sin, yet certainly it is not in vain thus to set against it, and keep a watch over it, for by this means you shall escape more sin and sin less, as he that aims at the mark, though he do not hit it, yet shall ordinarily come nearer it, than he that shoots only at random, and as the army that is most vigilant and watchful, though they cannot prevent all losses and hazards, yet commonly are not found at such a loss, as those who are proud, confident, and secure.

Now, as it is supposed, that sin is ordinarily incident to the child of God, so it is especially to be caveated, that he despair not in his sins, for it is imported in this provision, that the believer is in great hazard upon new lapses into sin, either of daily incursion, or of a grosser nature, to be discouraged. As there is so much corruption in any man's heart, as will turn the grace of God into wantonness, and incline him upon the proposal of free grace to presume to take liberty to the flesh, so that same corruption, upon another occasion, works another way, upon the supposal of new sins, aggravated with preceding mercy and grace in God, and convictions and resolutions in him, to drive him into despondency and dejection of spirit, as if there were no pardon for such sins. And indeed, it is no wonder if the soul be thus set upon, if we set aside the consideration of the infinite grace of God, that far surpasseth the ill deserts of men. To speak of the very nature of the thing itself, there is no sin in its own nature more unpardonable than sin after pardon; nothing so heinous, aggravated with so many high circumstances, which mingleth it with the worst ingredients, as this sin, after so much grace revealed in the gospel, to the end that we may not sin. Sins washed so freely, in so precious a fountain, and yet to defile again, sins forgiven so readily and easily, the debt whereof, in justice, the whole creation was not able to pay, and yet to offend so gracious a Father, a soul being thoroughly convinced of the vanity, folly, and madness of sin, of the deceitfulness and baseness of its pleasures, and set in a posture against it, as the most deadly enemy; and yet, after all this, to be foiled, deceived, and insnared—here, I say, are very piercing considerations, which cannot but set the challenge very deep into the heart of a Christian and wound him sore. How will he be filled with shame and confusion of face if he look upon God, every look or beam of whose countenance represents unto the soul the vilest and most abominable visage of sin! Or if he look into himself, there is nothing but self condemning there. He finds his own conscience staring him as a thousand witnesses. Thus the soul of a believer being environed, he is ready to apprehend, that though God should have pardoned the sins of his ignorance yet that there is more difficulty in this,—to pardon his returnings to folly, and therefore are some put to harder exercise, and greater terrors, after conversion, than in the time of it. The sins of ignorance being, as it were, removed as a cloud, and scored out in a heap, but the sins of knowledge after mercy, lying more distinctly and clearly in the view of the soul, it is more difficult to blot them out of the conscience, and sprinkle the heart from an evil conscience. These things I speak to you for this reason, that you may be afraid to sin. I suppose that there is no hazard of eternal damnation by sin. Grant that you know beforehand, that if you sin, there is yet forgiveness with him, and there is no hazard of perishing by it, yet, sure I am, it is the most foolish adventure in the world, to take liberty on that account, for though there be indemnity that way, as to thy eternal estate, yet I am persuaded, that there is more damage another way, in thy spiritual estate in this world, than all the gains of sin can countervail. There is a necessary loss of peace and joy, and communion of the Holy Ghost. It is inevitable, in the very ordinary and natural course and connection of things, but that sin, that way indulged, will eclipse thy soul, and bring some darkness of sorrow and horror over it. To speak after the manner of man, and in the way of reason itself, the entertainment of that which God hates will deprive thee of more solid joy and sweetness in him, than all the pleasures of sin could afford. Therefore I dare not say to you, as one too unadvisedly expresseth it, "Fear not, though you do sin, of any hurt that can come by these sins, for if you sin it shall do you no hurt at all."(253) I say, this were indeed but to make you too bold with sin. I had rather represent unto you, that though ye be secured in your eternal estate, and there can come no condemnation that way, yet there is much hurt comes by sin, even in this world, and sure, I think it a very rational and Christian inducement, to prevail with a Christian not to sin, to tell him that he shall make a foolish bargain by it, for he shall lose much more than he can gain. Is there no hurt or loss incident to men, but eternal perdition? Nay, my beloved, there is a loss Christians may sustain by sinning freely, which all the combined advantages of sin cannot compensate. Is not one hour's communion with God, are not the peace of your own consciences, and the joy of the Spirit, such inestimable jewels, that it were more suitable for a man to sell the world, and buy them, than to sell them, and buy a poor momentary trifling contentment, which hath a sting in the tail of it, and leaves nothing but vexation after it? O these bruises in David's bones, these breaches in his spirit, that loss of the joy of his salvation! Let these teach you who are escaped the great hurt of sin, to fear, at least, to be hurt by it this way, more than ever you can expect to be helped by it.

But then, I desire to add this in the third place, that there is provision made against the discouragement of those souls that desire not to sin, and yet sin against their desire. If the challenge I spoke of be written in thy conscience, as it were with the point of a diamond, deeply engraven, yet my beloved, consider, that "if any man sin, we have an advocate," &c. There is an express caution against thy discouragement. Certainly our Saviour hath provided for it. Since the case is so incident, and the supposition so ordinary, it is not conceivable that he hath not caveated and secured thy salvation in such cases, for he knew certainly before he pardoned thee, and visited thee at first, that thou wast to be subject unto this necessary burden of sin, and that it would often times molest and trouble you, and sometimes prevail over you. All this he knew, that when he should order your forces, and draw out against sin, with the greatest desire and resolution, that yet you might be foiled unexpectedly, and this was not unknown to him, when he showed mercy at first. Therefore, since his love is unchangeable, and his wisdom, being infinite, saith it should be so, he would never have cast his love on such persons, if these things, which were then before him, could make him change. Now, I grant there is more wonder in the pardon of following sins, than in the first pardon, and therefore you should still love more, and praise more. But what is this wonder to the wonder of his grace? It is swallowed up in that higher wonder, for his thoughts and ways are not like ours, his voice is, "Return, thou backsliding sinner, to thy first husband, though thou hast played the harlot." Therefore, I desire that whatsoever be presented in that kind, to aggravate your sins, let it humble you more indeed, and make you hate sin, but let it not hinder you to think as highly of his mercy and grace, and to set that in the heavens above it.



Sermon XXV.

1 John ii. 1.—"And if any man sin, we have an advocate with the Father,", &c.

It is the natural office of the conscience to accuse a man in evil doing. As every man by sin is liable to the judgment of the supreme court of heaven, so he is likewise subject to the inferior court of his own conscience, for the most high God hath a deputy within every man's breast, that not only is a witness, but a judge, to fasten an accusation, and pronounce a sentence upon him according to the law of God. And while it is so, that a man is accused in both courts, at the supreme tribunal, and the lower house of a man's own conscience, when man's accuser is within him, and God, his righteous Judge, above him, who can come in to plead such a man's cause? A person self condemned, who shall plead for his absolution? If he cannot but accuse himself, and stop his mouth, being guilty before God of the transgression of all his law, then what place for an advocate to accuse him, or defend his cause? And who is it that can enter in the lists with God, who, because the supreme and highest Judge, must be both Judge and party? Where shall a daysman be found to lay his hands on both, and advocate the desperate-like cause of sinners? Truly, here we had been at an eternal stand, and here had the business stuck for ever, for anything that the creation could imagine, had not the infinite grace and wisdom of God opened themselves to mankind, in opening a door of hope to broken and outlaw sinners. And behold, here is the provision made for the security and salvation of lost souls,—there is one able and mighty to save,—a person found out fit for this advocation, who taketh the broken cause of sinners in hand, and pleads it out, and makes out justice to be for them, and not against them,—"If any man sin, we have an advocate," &c.

There is one thing imported, that sin maketh a man liable to a charge and accusation, and brings him under the hazard of judgment. Indeed it is hard enough to endure an accusing conscience, and a spirit wounded with the apprehension of wrath. When our Saviour would express great affliction, he doth it thus—"A man's enemies shall be those of his own house." If a domestic enemy be so ill, what shall a bosom enemy be, when a man's accuser is not only beside him, but within him,—not only in the house with him, but in the field too,—carried about with him whithersoever he goeth, so that he can have no retiring or withdrawing place from it! Indeed, some poor souls make a mad escape from under the challenge of their consciences, they get away from their keepers to more excess in sin, or make some vain diversion to company, and other things of the world. But the end thereof shall be more bitterness, for that will not still sleep within them, but shall awake upon them with more terror, and one day put them in such a posture, that all the comforts of the world shall be but as a drop of water to a man in a burning fever, or as oil to a flame. But, as I told you, that is not the greatest matter, to be self accused, and self-condemned, if there were not a higher tribunal, which this process originally flows from, one greater than the conscience, who speaks to us in his word, and hath written his charge and sentence against us, and this is it which sets the soul most on edge, and it is but the very apprehension of that higher judgment, which is the gall and wormwood, the poison of those challenges in the conscience. I would desire you to look upon this, and consider that there is a sentence passed in the word of God upon all your actions, that the wrath of God is revealed in the scriptures as due to you, however you may flatter yourselves in your sins, and fancy an immunity from wrath, though you live in sin. I wish ye were once persuaded of this,—that all sinners must once appear before God's tribunal and hear the righteous sentence of the dueness of punishment pronounced; I say, all must once appear, either to hear and believe it, or to see it executed. The wisdom of God requires, that all men's guilt, which is a transgression of the law, should once come to a judicial trial and decision by the law, and either this must be done in your own consciences here, that ye may sist yourselves before him, and take with your sins, and humble yourselves in his sight, and then the matter is put over upon a Mediator, or else you must give him leave, nay he will take leave to cite you to appear, to see the sentence executed which was pronounced, since ye would not apply it to your own hearts. O! happy is that soul that anticipates that great day of final judgment, by a previous self judgment and self trial. Well, then, hath the scriptures included all under sin, that all men might be guilty and every mouth stopped before God, Rom. iii. 19. What shall we do then? Since righteousness and justice is against us, who can plead for us? It would seem that there could be no relaxing, no repealing, no dispensing with this law at least that if there be anything of that kind, that righteousness and judgment can have no hand in it. Yet, behold, what follows, "we have an advocate," &c. And an advocate's office is to sue out the client's right, from principles of justice. Elsewhere Christ hath the office of a Judge, here he is an advocate for the party, and both of these may have a comfortable consideration, John v. 22. "The Father judgeth no man, but hath committed all judgment to the Son." And yet, here we have an advocate with the Father, and that is, with the Father as judge. These do not cross one another, but make out our abundant consolation, that one entire office of our Saviour is represented under all these various notions suited to our capacity. A Judge he is yea, his tribunal is the highest and supreme, from which there is no appeal, the ultimate decision lies here of all capital or soul cases and causes. It is true, the Father doth not wholly divest himself of judgment and authority in the matters of life and death, for the gospel is his contrivance, as it was the Son's, but Christ is, as it were, substituted his vicegerent, in the administration of the second covenant. You read of a preparatory tribunal erected in the word by God the Creator, that is, of the law which condemns us. Now, such is the mercy and grace, and free love of God, that he hath relaxed that sentence as to the persons. He hath not taken that advantage which in justice he had against us, but upon some valuable considerations hath committed to the Son a royal power of prescribing new laws of life and death, and new terms of salvation, and Christ having, at his Fathers will, satisfied the law, in what it did threaten us, he is, as it were, in compensation of such a great service, made Lord and King "both of the dead and living," (Rom. xiv. 9,) and "all things in heaven and earth are given to him," Matt. xxviii. 18, John xiii. 3. And therefore, whatever soul is aggrieved under the accusation and charge of the law, hath liberty, yea, and is called to it, of duty, to appeal unto this new erected tribunal, where Christ sits to dispense life according to the terms of grace and he may be sure the Father will not judge him according to the law, if the Son absolve him in the gospel.

Now, with this it consists, that he who hath all final judgment in his hand, yet is our advocate in another consideration, as we consider God the Father sitting upon the tribunal of justice, and proceeding according to the terms and tenor of his first law, or covenant of life and death. Then Christ comes in with his advocation for poor sinners, and sustains their persons, and maintains their cause, even from the principles of justice. He presents his satisfactory sacrifice and pleads that we are not to be charged with that punishment that he hath suffered, because he hath indeed fulfilled our legal righteousness, and by this means the law's mouth is stopped, which had stopped our mouth, and the sinner is absolved, who was found guilty. Thus you see the salvation and absolution of believers is wonderfully secured, for there is a sentence for it in the court of the gospel, pronounced by the Son. But lest you think he should usurp such an absolute power, then hear, that he is an advocate to plead out the equity and justice of it, before the very tribunal of the law, that the law itself being the rule, the Father himself, who made the law, being the Judge, the poor soul that flies unto him as a refuge, may be saved, since what it craved of us it gets in him, and is as fully satisfied that way, as it could have been by us. Therefore, that same righteousness which bids condemn the sinner, commands to save the believer in Christ, though a sinner. What shall a soul then fear? Who shall condemn? It is Christ that justifieth, for he is judge of life and death and that is much. But it is the Father that justifieth, and that is more whatsoever tribunal you may be cited unto, you may be sure. Is it the gospel? Then the Son is judge. Is it the law? Then the Son is advocate. He will not only give life himself, but see that his Father do it, and warrant you from all back hazards. Nay, before the matter shall misgive, as he comes down from off the throne, to stand at the bar and plead for sinners, who devolve themselves upon him, so he will not spare if need require, to degrade himself further, if I may say so, and of an advocate become a supplicant. And truly he ceased not in the days of his flesh to pray for us, "with strong cries and tears," Heb. v. 7. And now he still lives to make intercession for us. He can turn from the plea of justice, to the intercession and supplication of mercy, and if strict justice will not help him, yet grace and favour he is sure will not disappoint him.

There is a divine contexture of justice and mercy in the business of man's redemption, and there is nothing so much declares infinite wisdom, as the method, order, and frame of it. Mercy might have been showed to sinners, in gracious and free pardon of their sins, and dispensing with the punishment due to their persons, yet the Lord's justice and faithfulness in that first commination might be wronged and disappointed by it, if no satisfaction should be made for such infinite offences, if the law were wholly made void both in the punishment, as also to the person. Therefore in the infinite depths of God's wisdom there was a way found out to declare both mercy and justice, to make both to shine gloriously in this work, and indeed that is the great wonder of men and angels, such a conjunction or constellation of divine attributes in one work. And indeed, it is only the most happy and favourable aspect in which we can behold the divine Majesty. The Psalmist, Psalm lxxxv., expects much good from this conjunction of the celestial attributes, and prognosticates salvation to be near at hand, and all good things, as the immediate effect of it. There is a meeting there, as it were, of some honourable personages, (ver. 10, 11) such as are in heaven. The meeting is strange, if you consider the parties,—Mercy and Truth, Righteousness and Peace. If Mercy and Peace had met thus friendly, it had been less wonder, but it would seem, that Righteousness and Truth should stand off, or meet only to reason and dispute the business with Mercy. But here is the wonder,—Mercy and Truth meet in a friendly manner, and "kiss one another." There is a perfect agreement and harmony amongst them, about this matter of our salvation. There was a kind of parting at man's fall, but they met again at Christ's birth. Here is the uniting principle, "Truth springing out of the earth." Because he who is "the truth and the life, was to spring out of the earth therefore" righteousness will look down from heaven, and countenance the business, and this will make all of them to meet with a loving salutation.

Now, as this was the contexture of the divine attributes in the business of redemption, so our Lord and Saviour taketh upon him divers names, offices, and exercises, different functions for us because he knoweth that his Father may justly exact of man personal satisfaction, and hath him at this disadvantage, and that he might have refused to have accepted any other satisfaction from another person. Therefore he puts on the habit and form of a supplicant and intercessor for us, and so while he was in the flesh, he ceased not to offer up "prayers and supplications with strong cries and tears," and he is said still "to make intercession for us." As he learned obedience, though a Son, so he learned to be a humble supplicant, though equal with God. Because our claim depends wholly on grace, he came off the bench, and stood at the bar, not only pleading but praying for us, entreating favour and mercy to us. And then, he personates an advocate in another consideration, and pleads upon terms of justice, that we be pardoned, because his Father once having accepted him in our stead he gave a satisfaction in value equal to our debt, and performed all that we were personally bound to. So then you may understand how it is partly an act of justice, partly an act of mercy, in God to forgive sin to believers, though indeed mercy and grace is the predominant ingredient, because love and grace was the very first rise and spring of sending a Saviour and Redeemer, and so the original of that very purchase and price. He freely sent his Son, and freely accepted him in our stead, but once standing in our room justice craves that no more be exacted of us, since he hath done the business himself.

A sinner stands accused in his own conscience, and before God, therefore, to the end that we get no wrong, there is a twofold advocate given us, one in the earth, in our consciences, another in the heavens with God. Christ is gone up to the highest tribunal, where the cause receives a definitive sentence, and there he manageth it above, so that though Satan should obtrude upon a poor soul a wrong sentence in its own conscience, and bring down a false and counterfeit act, as it were, extracted out of the register of heaven, whereby to deceive the poor soul, and condemn it in itself, yet there is no hazard above, he dare not appear there, before the highest court, for he hath already succumbed on earth. When Christ was here, the prince of the world was judged and cast out, and so he will never once put in an accusation into heaven, because he knoweth our faithful advocate is there, where nothing can pass without his knowledge and consent. And this is a great comfort, that all inferior sentences in thy perplexed conscience, which Satan, through violence hath imposed upon thee, are rescinded above in the highest court, and shall not stand to thy prejudice, whoever thou be that desirest to forsake sin and come to Jesus Christ.

But how doth Christ plead? Can he plead us not guilty? Can he excuse or defend our sins? No, that is not the way. That accusation of the word and law against us is confessed, is proven, all is undeniably clear, but, he pleads satisfied, though guilty,—he presents his satisfactory sacrifice and the savour of that perfumes heaven, and pacifieth all. He shows God's bond and discharge of the receipt of the sum of our debt, and thus is he cleared, and we absolved. Therefore I desire you, whoever you are that are challenged for sin, and the transgression of the law, if ye would have a solid way of satisfaction and peace to your consciences, take with your guiltiness. Plead not "not guilty." Do not excuse or extenuate, but aggravate your guilt. Nay, in this you may help Satan, accuse yourselves, and say that you know more evil in yourselves than he doth and open that up before God. But in the meantime, consider how it is managed above. Plead thou also "satisfied in Christ though guilty," and so thou mayest say to thy accuser, "If thou hast any thing to object against me, why I may not be saved, though a sinner, thou must go up to the highest tribunal to propone it, thou must come before my judge and advocate above, but forasmuch as thou dost not appear there, it is but a lie, and a murdering be."

Now this is the way that the Spirit advocates for us in our consciences, John xiv. and xv. 26. παρακλετος is rendered here "Advocate," there "Comforter." Both suit well, and may be conjoined in one, and given to both, for both are comfortable advocates,—Christ with the Father, and the Spirit with us. Christ is gone above for it, and he sent the Spirit in his stead. As God hath a deputy judge in man, that is, man's conscience, so the Son, our advocate with God, hath a deputy advocate to plead the cause in our conscience, and this he doth, partly by opening up the Scriptures to us and making us understand the way of salvation in them, partly manifesting his own works and God's gifts in us by a superadded light of testimony, and partly by comforting us against all outward and inward sorrows. Sometimes he pleads with the soul against Satan "not guilty," for Satan is a slanderous and a false accuser, and cares not calumniari fortiter ul aliquid haereat, to calumniate stoutly, and he knoweth something will stick.(254) He will not only object known sins and transgressions of the law, but his manner is to cast a mist upon the eye of the soul, and darken all its graces, and then he brings forth his process, that they have no grace, no faith in Christ, no love to God, no sorrow for sin. In such a case, it is the Spirit's office to plead it out to our consciences, that we are not totally guilty, as we are charged, and this is not so much a clearing of ourselves, as a vindication of the free gifts of God, which lie under his aspersion and reproach. Indeed, if there be a great stress here, and, for wise reasons, the Spirit forbear to plead out this point, but leave a poor soul to puddle it out alone, and scrape its evidences together in the dark,—I say, if thou find this too hard for thee to plead not guilty then my advice is, that ye wave and suspend that question. Yield it not wholly, but rather have it entire, and do as if it were not. Suppose that article and point were gained against thee, what wouldst thou do next? Certainly, thou must say, I would then seek grace and faith from him who giveth liberally. I would then labour to receive Christ in the promises. I say, do that now, and thou takest a short and compendious way to win thy cause, and overcome Satan. Let that be thy study, and he hath done with it.

But in any challenge about the transgression of the law, or desert of eternal wrath, the Spirit must not plead "not guilty," for thou must confess that, but in as far as he driveth at a further conclusion, to drive thee away from hope and confidence to despondency of spirit, in so far the Spirit clears up unto the conscience that this doth nowise follow from that confession of guiltiness, since there is a Saviour that hath satisfied for it, and invites all to come, and accept him for their Lord and Saviour.



Sermon XXVI.

1 John ii. 1.—"We have an advocate with the Father, Jesus Christ the righteous."

There is no settlement to the spirit of a sinner that is once touched with the sense of his sins, and apprehension of the justice and wrath of God, but in some clear and distinct understanding of the grounds of consolation in the gospel, and the method of salvation revealed in it. There is no solid peace giving answer to the challenges of the law and thy own conscience, but in the advocation of Jesus Christ, the Saviour of sinners. And therefore the apostle propones it here for the comfort of believers who are incident to be surprised through the suddenness of sin, and often deceived by the subtlety of Satan, whose souls' desires and sincere endeavours are to be kept from iniquity, and therefore they are made to groan within themselves, and sometimes sadly to conclude against themselves, upon the prevailing of sin. Here is the cordial, I say. He presents to them Jesus Christ standing before the bar of heaven, and pleading his satisfaction in the name of such souls, and so suiting forth an exemption and discharge for them from their sins. So he presents us with the most comfortable aspect, Christ standing between us and justice, the Mediator interposed between us and the Father, so there can come no harm to such poor sinners, except it come through his sides first, and no sentence can pass against them, unless he succumb in his righteous cause in heaven.

The strength of Christ's advocation for believers consists partly in his qualification for the office, partly in the ground and foundation of his cause. His qualification we have in this verse, the ground and foundation of his pleading in the next verse, in that "he is the propitiation for our sins," and upon this very ground his advocation is both just and effectual.

Every word holds out some fitness, and therefore every word drops out consolation to a troubled soul. "With the Father," speaks out the relation he and we stand in to the Judge. He hath not to do with an austere and rigid Judge, that is implacable and unsatisfiable, who will needs adhere peremptorily to the letter of the law, for then we should be all undone. If there were not some paternal affection, and fatherly clemency and moderation in the Judge, if he were not so disposed, as to make some candid interpretation upon it, and in some manner to relax the sentence, as to our personal suffering, we could never stand before him, nor needed any advocate appear for us. But here is the great comfort,—he is Christ's Father and our Father, so himself told us, (John xx. 17,) "I go to my Father and your Father, and my God and your God." And therefore we may be persuaded that he will not take advantage, even in that which he hath in justice, of us, and though we be apprehensive of his anger, in our failings and offences, and this makes us often to be both afraid and ashamed to come to him, measuring him after the manner of men, who are soon angry, and often implacably angry. We imagine that he cannot but repel and put back our petitions, and therefore we have not the boldness to offer them, yet he ceaseth not to be our Father and Christ's Father. And if ye would have the character of a father, look (Jer. xxxi. 18,) how he stands affected towards ashamed and confounded Ephraim, how his bowels move, and his compassions yearn towards him as his pleasant child. The truth is, in such a case, in which we are captives against our will, and stumble against our purpose, he pities us as a father doth his children, knowing that we are but dust and grass, Psal. ciii. 13-17. See the excellent and sweet application of this relation by the Psalmist—if it stir him, it stirs up rather the affection of pity, than the passion of anger. He pities his poor child, when he cries out of violence and oppression; and therefore, there are great hopes that our advocate Jesus Christ shall prevail in his suits for us, because he, with whom he deals,—the Father,—loves him, and loves us, and will not stand upon strict terms of justice, but rather attemper all with mercy and love. He will certainly hear his well beloved Son, for in him he is well pleased, his soul rests and takes complacency in him, and for his sake he adopts us to be his children, and therefore he will both hear him in our behalf, and our prayers too, for his name's sake.

But this is superadded to qualify our advocate,—he is the Christ of God, anointed for this very purpose, and so hath a fair and lawful calling to this office. He takes not this honour to himself, but was called thereto of his Father, Heb. v. 4. As he did not make himself a priest, so he did not intrude upon the advocateship, "but he that said, Thou art my Son called him to it." If a man had never so great ability to plead in the law, yet, except he be licentiate and graduate, he may not take upon him to plead a cause. But our Lord Jesus hath both skill and authority, he hath both the ability and the office, was not a self intruder or usurper, but the council of heaven did licentiate him, and graduate him for the whole office of mediatorship: in which there is the greatest stay and support for a sinking soul, to know that all this frame and fabric of the gospel was contrived by God the Father, and that he is master builder in it. Since it is so, there can nothing control it or shake it, since it is the very will of God, "with whom we have to do," that a mediator should stand between him and us, and since he hath such a mind to clear poor souls, that he freely chooseth and giveth them an able Advocate, it is a great token that he hath a mind to save as many as come and submit to him and that he is ready to pardon, when he prepares so fit an Advocate for us, and hath not left us alone to plead our own cause.

But the anointing of Christ for it, implies both δυναμιν and εξουσιαν potentiam et potestatem, the gifts for it as well as the authority, and the ability as well as the office, for God hath singularly qualified him for it,—given him the Spirit above measure, Isa. lxi. 1. He received gifts not only to distribute to men, but to exercise for men, and their advantage, Psal. lxviii. 18. And therefore the Father seems to interest himself in the cause as it were his own. He furnisheth our Advocate as if it were to plead the cause of his own justice against us, he upholds and strengthens Christ in our cause, as really as if it were his own, Isa. xlii. 1, 6, which expresseth to us the admirable harmony and consent of heaven to the salvation of as many as make Christ their refuge, and desire not to live in sin. Though they be often foiled, yet there is no hazard of the failing of their cause above, because our Advocate hath both excellent skill, and undoubtable authority.

Yea, he is so fully qualified for this that he is called Jesus the Saviour, he is such an Advocate that he saves all he pleads for. The best advocate may lose the cause, either through the weakness of itself, or the iniquity of the judge, but he is the Advocate and the Saviour, that never succumbed in his undertaking for any soul. Be their sins never so heinous—their accusation never so just and true—their accuser never so powerful, yet they who put their cause in his hand, who flee in hither for refuge being wearied of the bondage of sin and Satan, he hath such a prevalency with the Father, that their cause cannot miscarry. Even when justice itself seems to be the opposite party, yet he hath such marvellous success in his office, that justice shall rather meet amicably with mercy and peace, and salute them kindly, (Psal. lxxxv. 10, 11,) as being satisfied by him, that he come short in his undertaking.

But there is another personal qualification needful, or all should be in vain,—"Jesus the righteous." If he were not righteous in himself, he had need of an advocate for himself, and might not plead for sinners, but he is righteous and holy, no guile found in his mouth, without sin, an unblameable and unspotted High Priest, else he could not mediate for others, and such an Advocate too, else he could not plead for others, Heb. vii. 26. As this perfected his sacrifice, that he offered not for his own sins, neither needed he, so this completes his advocateship, and gives it a mighty influence for his poor clients, that he needs not plead for himself. If, then, the law cannot attach our Lord and Saviour, can lay no claim to him, or charge against him, then certainly, all that he did behoved to be for others, and so he stands in a good capacity to plead for us before the Father, and to sue out a pardon to us, though guilty, for if the just was delivered for the unjust, and the righteous suffered for the unrighteous, much more is it consistent with the justice of the Father, to deliver and save the unrighteous and unjust sinner for the righteous Advocate's sake. "If ye seek me, then let these go free," saith he, John xviii. 8. So he in effect pleads with God his Father, O Father, if thou deal with me, the righteous One, as with an unrighteous man, then, in all reason and justice, thou must deal with my poor clients, though unrighteous, as with righteous men. If justice thought she did me no wrong to punish me, the righteous, then let it not be thought a wrong to justice to pardon, absolve, and justify the unrighteous.