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Self-Communion
By Octavius Winslow
“…Commune with your own heart upon your bed, and be still”—Psalm 4:4.
It will be acknowledged by every spiritual and
reflecting mind that the tendencies of the age are not the most favourable to
the calm, solemn, holy duty of self-communion. We are fallen upon times of great
religious, as well as worldly activity and excitement. So strong and rushing,
indeed, is the tide, that there exists a fearful and fatal liability in those
who profess to walk with God, as did Noah and Enoch, to neglect entirely one of
the most essential and effectual helps heavenward—the due, faithful, and
constant examination of the spiritual state and condition of their own hearts.
To the consideration of this vitally-important subject—a subject so intimately
entwined with our progress in the divine life—let us now address ourselves. The
Divine precept is emphatic—“Commune with your own heart upon your bed, and be
still;” or, as it is rendered in another and a beautiful version of the Psalms,
“Commune with your own heart in your chamber, and be still?”—The Book of Common
Prayer. Both renderings are good, but perhaps the latter conveys more distinctly
and impressively the idea of retirement for self-communion. “Come, my people,
enter thou into thy chambers,” is the invitation of God to His Church. Like to
this is the Saviour’s exhortation—“When thou prayest, enter into thy closet.”
With everything but themselves the great mass of human beings by whom we are
surrounded are in the closest communion. Man is in communion with nature in its
glories, with science in its wonders, with art in its triumphs, with intellect
in its attainments, with power in its achievements, with the creation in its
attraction. There is but one object with which he holds no rational, sacred, and
close communion,—from which, though the nearest and the most important, he seems
the most widely isolated; that object is—himself! He studies not the wonders of
his being, the spirituality of his nature, the solemnity of his relations, the
accountability of his actions, the immortality of his destiny. He thinks not of
himself, and of death, and judgment, and eternity at the same moment. He will
examine and prepare himself for worldly preferment, but his state as a moral
being, his position as a responsible being, his future as an accountable and
deathless being, absorbs not a moment, awakens not a thought, inspires not an
aspiration of his soul! What a fearful verification of and comment upon the word
of God, “DEAD IN TRESPASSES AND IN SINS!” But the saints of God present another
and a widely-different class. The religion of Jesus, while it is designed to
disarm man of selfishness, and, when enthroned supremely upon the heart,
ennobles and expands it with the “expulsive power of a new affection,” yet
concentrates his most serious, devout, and earnest consideration upon himself.
“Man, know thyself,” becomes a heathen maxim, in its highest and noblest sense,
Christianized. It is of the utmost moment, then, that the saint of God should be
kept in perpetual remembrance of this sacred duty of self-communion: its neglect
entails immense spiritual deterioration and loss; its observance will, more than
all other engagements—for it stimulates to activity all others—effectually
advance the soul in its heavenward course. Self-communion is the topic which
will now engage our thoughts—may we give to it the devout and earnest
consideration which a subject so closely intertwined with our personal advance
in heavenly meetness demands! Oh that this chapter of our work may be written
and read under the especial anointing of God the Holy Ghost! Let us endeavour to
ascertain what this sacred duty involves.
Know Your True Spiritual State Before God.
In the first place, my beloved reader, commune with your own heart, to know its
true spiritual state as before God. This will bring under your review the
subject of conversion—a state which many take for granted without scriptural
evidence of the fact; a great question in the matter of salvation, which, to
speak after the manner of the schoolmen, too many beg—they assume the existence
of their personal conversion without proof. And yet how vast the consequences of
the most momentous question they take for granted! There is no statement clearer
in God’s Word than this, that to enjoy heaven we must become heavenly. God
cannot cease to be God; therefore He could not make us, like Himself, perfectly
happy, unless He made us, like Himself, perfectly holy. The Holy Ghost must make
us new creatures—the subjects of a nature that is Divine—in order to fit us for
the enjoyment of a heaven that is pure. The questions, then, which we must weigh
are—Have I passed from death unto life? Has my heart been convinced of sin? Am I
a subject of the new birth? and from a state of insensibility to objects, and
feelings, and hopes that are spiritual, eternal, and divine, have I been
quickened by the regenerating Spirit to walk with God, and before the world, in
newness of life? These are personal and serious questions, which must not, which
cannot, be evaded without imperilling all that is most dear and precious to your
everlasting well-being. Oh, give to your eyes no slumber until the subject of
the new birth has awakened in your mind the profoundest thought. It is spoken by
Him who is the Truth, and it is written by Him who is the Spirit of Truth,
“Unless a man be born again, he cannot see the kingdom of God.” Heaven or hell
is suspended upon the issue! My reader! are you sensible that within you all
things have been made new? that, whereas once you were blind, now you see? that
your heart is in sympathy with objects that are spiritual, with enjoyments that
are holy, with engagements that are heavenly?—in a word, that your views of sin
and self, of God and of Christ and of the gospel, are radically, essentially
changed, and that you seem to yourself the subject of a new-born existence, and
the occupant of a new-created world?
Know The Existence and Condition of the Love
of God in Your Own Heart.
Commune with yourself to ascertain the existence and condition of the love of
God in your heart. Enmity or love to Jehovah characterize us; there is no
modified state between these extremes. A careful inspection of our hearts as to
this principle will enable us correctly to decide our spiritual condition before
the Lord. Do you love God because He is holy? His law, because it is righteous?
His government, because it is divine and just? His ways, because they are wise,
and right, and sure? Do you love Him for sending His Son into the world to save
sinners? Do you love Him as a Father, as a Friend, as a God in covenant
relation? How stands your heart, O believer! with God as to its love? What is
the warmth and vigour and ardour of your affections? Do you so love God in
Christ as, under its constraining influence, to do what He commands, to yield
what He asks, to go where He bids, to hate what He hates, and to love what He
loves; yea, to embrace Him with an affection simple, single, and supreme,
oblivious, if need be, of every other claimant, and satisfied, if so He willed
it, with Him alone? Oh, what is the state of your love to Jesus—frigid, selfish,
inconstant; or, glowing, self-denying, fixed? You ask how your love to Christ
may be tested and increased? Test it by obedience; “If you love me, keep my
commandments.” Increase it by a more close, believing dealing with Christ’s love
to you. Your love to Christ will never increase by feeding upon itself. You must
light your torch of affection at the altar of Calvary. You must go there, and
learn and believe what the love of Jesus is to you: the vastness of that
love,—the self-sacrifice of that love,—how that love of Christ laboured and
wept, bled, suffered, and died for you. Can you stand before this love—this love
so precious, so great, so enduring, so self-consuming, so changeless, and know
that for you was this offering, for you this cross, for you this agony, for you
this scorn and insult, for you this death, and feel no sensibility, no emotion,
no love? Impossible! Sit not down, then, in vain regrets that your love to God
in Christ is so frigid, so fickle, so dubious; go and muse upon the reality, the
greatness, the present intercession of the Saviour’s love to you, and if love
can inspire love, then methinks that, while you muse, the fire will burn, and
your soul shall be all in flame with love to God. "The Lord direct your heart
into the love of God.”
“Were the whole realm of nature mine,
That were a present far too small;
Love so amazing, so divine,
Demands my soul, my life, my all.”
Know Your Own Heart as to its Views of, and
Feelings towards the Lord Jesus Christ.
Commune with your own heart as to its views of, and its feelings towards, the
Lord Jesus. The great question, which decides so much is, “What think you of
Christ?” Is it with you a reality that Christ died for sinners? Do you fully
credit the promise by which God has engaged to accept through His sacrifice and
intercession all who believe in His name? Do you believe Him to be divine,
accept His obedience as justifying, and His death as sacrificial? Has it pleased
God to reveal His Son in you? Is He precious to your heart? And do you receive
Him, trust in Him, follow Him, and hope to be with Him for ever, as all your
salvation and all your desire? You ask me how you may come to a right conclusion
in the matter. You long, you yearn, you pray to know whether or not you love
Christ, are one of His disciples, and shall certainly be with Him where He is.
But why doubt it? Is the matter so difficult? If your mind were filled with
admiration of a being, could you question the emotion thus awakened? If your
heart were captivated by an object of superior intellect and beauty,—and that
object, towards which the yearning and clinging of your affection went forth in
a warm and ceaseless flow, became supremely enthroned in your sympathy and
regard, would the fact admit of a moment’s doubt? Would you call in question the
existence, the reality, or even the intensity of your love? Impossible! The
higher and more momentous question of your attachment to Christ admits of a yet
easier solution. Do I love Jesus? Is He the object of my supreme admiration and
delight? Is He the chosen, the preferred, the supreme Being of my warmest
affection? Is He precious to my soul? And am I trusting believingly, and
exclusively, and without mental reservation, as a sinner utterly undone,
self-abhorred, and self-condemned, to His atoning sacrifice? And still you
hesitate! And yet you doubt! It is still a problem which you tremble to solve!
You think of your sinfulness, your unworthiness, of the taint and flaw and
unloveliness of all you are doing, of your faint love, of your weak faith, of
your doubtful sincerity, and then you shrink from the thought of claiming an
interest in Christ, and resign yourself to the conviction that your salvation is
an utter impossibility—that you are not, and never will be, saved! But to take a
closer view of the matter. Upon what ground do you base this hesitation and
justify this self-exemption from the great salvation? It is not for your worth
that you are saved, but for Christ’s worth. It is not on the ground of your
personal merit that you are justified, but on the ground of Christ’s merit
alone. It is not upon the plea of your fitness, your tears, your confessions,
your prayers, your duties, that God forgives and accepts you, but simply and
exclusively upon the one plea of the Saviour’s sacrifice. The BLOOD of Christ
pardons, the RIGHTEOUSNESS of Christ justifies you, and this is all that you
require, or that God demands. The great work is all done—it is not to be done.
It is complete, finished, accepted, sealed. And you, as a lost sinner, without
holiness, without strength, without one plea that springs from what you are,
have nothing to do. Believe, and you are saved. Believing is not doing, it is
not meriting, it is TRUSTING—it is the simple exercise of a faith in Christ
which God gives, and which the Holy Ghost produces in the heart; so that your
salvation, from beginning to end, is entirely out of yourself, in another. With
what clearness and emphasis has the Spirit of truth set forth this: “By the
works of the law shall no flesh be justified,” (Gal. 2:16.) “But to him that
worketh not, but believeth on him that justifieth the ungodly, his faith is
counted for righteousness,” (Rom. 4:5.) All your own works, until your faith
embrace the Lord Jesus, are “dead works,” and dead works never took a soul to
heaven! You need as much the ATONING BLOOD to purge you from dead works as to
purge you from deadly sins. Hear the words of the Holy Ghost—“How much more
shall the blood of Christ, who through the eternal Spirit offered himself
without spot to God, purge your conscience from DEAD WORKS to serve the living
God?” (Heb. 9:14.) And still you ask, “What then must I DO to be saved?” Do! I
answer—NOTHING! All is done, completely and for ever done! Blessed, O thrice
blessed be God! Christ has done it all—paid it all—endured it all—suffered it
all—finished it all—leaving you, O sin-burdened, anxious, trembling, hesitating
soul, nothing to do, and only to believe. Will not this suffice? Will you demur
a moment longer to commit yourself to Christ, to lay your soul on Jesus, to
accept the salvation, the heaven, the crown, the eternal life He proffers you as
the free bestowments of His grace? Your sins, countless as the stars, are no
barrier to your salvation if you but believe in Jesus. Your transgressions, deep
as scarlet and as crimson, shall not be of too deep a dye if you but plunge into
the fountain of Christ’s blood. His delight, His glory is to receive sinners—to
receive you. And the moment you cease to give over doing, and begin only to
believe, from that moment your soul rests from its labour, you enter into peace,
and are for ever saved!
“Nothing, either great or small,
Nothing, sinner, no;
Jesus did it, did it all,
Long, long ago.
“When He from His lofty throne
Stoop’d to do and die,
Everything was fully done;
Hearken to His cry—
“‘It is FINSH’D!’ Yes, indeed,
Finish’d every jot.
Sinner, this is all you need;
Tell me, is it not!
“Weary, working, burden’d one,
Why toil you so!
Cease your doing; all was done
Long, long ago.
“Till to Jesus’ work you cling
By a simple faith,
‘Doing’ is a deadly thing—
‘Doing’ ends in death.
“Cast your deadly ‘doing’ down—
Down at Jesus’ feet;
Stand ‘IN HIM,’ in Him alone,
Gloriously ‘complete!’”
Know the Ruling Principles of Your Actions.
Commune with your own heart touching its ruling principles of action. It is a
law of our moral being that the human heart must be governed by some
all-controlling, all-commanding principle,—some secret potent spring that moves
and regulates the entire powers of the soul. What is the ruling principle of
your heart? Have you examined yourself to know? Beware of self-treachery, the
most easy and the most fatal of all species of deception. There are many
deceitful things in the world. The wind is deceitful, the ocean is deceitful,
the creature is deceitful, but the human “heart is deceitful above all things,”
and in nothing, probably, more so than in the principles and motives which
govern and sway it. Oh, it is appalling to think what self-idolatry and
self-seeking and self-complaisance may reign in our hearts, prompt and govern
our actions! How carefully and nicely may we adjust our sail and shape our
course to catch the soft breath and win the low murmur of man’s approbation and
acclaim, as we float on the bosom of the stream, while ostensibly we are doing
all for God! But, retreating to my chamber, let me, in solitude, self-scrutiny,
and prayer, commune with my own heart. Laying bare, as with the deepest incision
of the knife, its spiritual anatomy before God,—my motives, purposes, and
aims,—can I say, “Lord! sinful though I am, the chief of sinners, yet do I
desire to be ruled in my life by Thy Word, to be governed in my principles by
Thy fear, to be constrained in Thy service by Thy love, and to make Thy honour
and glory the end of all I do.” Thus ruled and swayed, how fragrant and
acceptable to Him your lowliest service, your meanest offering! It may be but
the “widow’s mite” you have cast into the treasury—to Him it is more costly than
the jewelled diadem. It may be but a “cup of cold water” you have offered to a
disciple in His name—to Him it is as beauteous and sparkling as the crystal
river which flows from beneath His throne. It may be a service for Christ you
have done, imperfect in itself and trying to your spirit, unrecognized and
unrewarded by others; yet, the tribute of your heart, in harmony with His will,
and promotive of His glory, this box of precious ointment which you have broken
shall fill earth with the fragrance of your love, and heaven with the music of
Christ’s praise.
Know the Heavenly Tendencies of Your Own
Heart.
Commune with your own heart, and ascertain its heavenly tendencies,—whether the
shadows of time or the realities of eternity have the ascendancy. Let no child
of God deem such a scrutiny needless. The Word of God is replete with
exhortations to the Church to set its affections on things above and not on the
earth; to seek first the kingdom of God; to have its conversation in heaven.
Encompassed as we are by earth, blinded by objects of sense, weighed down by
human cares and anxieties, we need to be watchful against their secular
influence upon our minds. It is good, therefore, to retire to our chamber and
examine the spiritual barometer of the soul, to adjust the balance of the
affections, and to see that divine and eternal realities are obtaining a growing
ascendancy and pre-eminence. How distinct and impressive the precept,—“Love not
the world, neither the things that are in the world. If any man love the world,
the love of the Father is not in him.”—“Be not conformed to this world, but be
ye transformed.”—“Who gave himself for our sins, that he might deliver us from
this present evil world, according to the will of God and our Father.”
Know Your Own Heart as to its Real and
Habitual Fellowship with God.
Commune with your own heart as to its real and habitual fellowship with God. Do
we pray? What is the character of our prayers? Do we pray in the Spirit? Is our
prayer communion? Do we walk with God as a Father, and with Christ as our best
Friend? And is the throne of grace the sweetest, holiest, dearest spot to us on
earth? For the want of this honest communion with our heart, there is often an
essential defect in our communion with the heart of Jesus. Our hearts grow so
cold that we are insensible to the warmth of His. There is so little
self-examination touching prayer, that our devotions glide into a cold, abstract
formality, and petitions and supplications which should be as swift arrows shot
from the bow of faith entering into the presence of God, congeal in icicles upon
our lips. Oh, look well to the state of your heart in the matter of prayer—it is
the true, the safest test of the spiritual condition of your soul. See that your
devotions are the utterances of the Spirit, sprinkled with atoning blood, and
offered in the lowly, loving spirit of adoption, the breathing of a child to God
as your Father. This is “fellowship,” and all other is but the name.
Know Your Progress in the Divine Life.
Commune with your own heart as to your progress in the divine life. It is
impossible to know correctly the distance we are on our heavenward way, the
stages we have travelled, the points we have reached, without self-communion.
The mariner examines his ocean-chart, the traveller the milestones of the road,
to mark the progress he has made homewards; how much more necessary this for the
voyager to eternity, for the traveller to the heavenly Zion! Everything in
nature is advancing—nothing stationary. Progress is the universal law of the
universe. Is the renewed soul—the heavenly traveller—alone to stand still? Is
the living water, welled within the soul of the regenerate, alone to be
stagnant? Is the kingdom of grace alone exempt from the operation of this law of
progress? Let your inquiry then be—How high is my sun in the moral heavens? How
near is it to its glorious setting? How far am I from the haven whither my soul
longeth to be, sheltered from storm and billow in eternal safety and repose?
“Knowing the time, that now it is high time to awake out of sleep: for now is
our salvation nearer than when we believed,” (Rom. 13:11.)
And, then, as to the dealings of our heavenly Father, how close should be our
self-communion! God deals with us that we might deal with ourselves, and then
with Him. An affliction often recalls our thoughts and sympathies and care from
others, and concentrates them upon our more neglected self. “They made me the
keeper of the vineyard, but mine own vineyard have I not kept.” Why has the
Lord, perhaps, taken you apart from the activities of life, from the duties of
your family, and from the religious engagements which have been so exciting and
absorbing? Just that in this lone hour, in this quiet chamber, on this bed of
sickness and reflection, you might be the better schooled in the much-neglected
duty of self-communion. God would have you now ascertain the why and the
wherefore of this present discipline: what backsliding this stroke is to
correct; what sin this chastening is to chide; what declension this probing is
to discover; what neglected duty this rebuke is to make known; what disobeyed
command this rod is to reveal. Oh, how needed and wholesome and precious is
self-communion now! Never, perhaps, before has your heart been laid open to such
inspection, subjected to such scrutiny, submitted to such tests. Never have you
been brought into such close contact with yourself; never has self-communion
appeared to you so needed, so solemn, and so blessed as in this quiet chamber.
Ah, much-abused, much-neglected heart! how have I allowed thee to wander, to be
enanmoured, enchained, won, and possessed by others! How has thy spiritual
verdure withered, how have thy fresh springs dried, thy beauty faded, and thy
strength decayed! How cold, how inconstant, how unfaithful, how unkind hast thou
been to thy best, thy dearest, thy heavenly Friend! But for the restraints of
His grace and the constraints of His love, and the checks of His gentle
corrections, whither, oh, whither wouldst thou have gone? I thank thee, Lord for
Thy discipline—for the shaded path, the severed tie, the lonely sorrow, the
loving, lenient correction that recalls my heart to Thee!
Know the State of Your Heart Touching the
Spirit of Thanksgiving and Praise.
Commune with your own heart to ascertain its state touching the existence and
exercise of the spirit of thanksgiving and praise. There is scarcely any part of
our religious experience that receives less attention and insight than this. And
in consequence of its neglect, we lose much personal holiness, and God much
glory. Praise is as much an element of our Christianity, as distinctly a duty
and a privilege, as prayer. And yet how little of it do we exhibit! We are so
absorbed by the trials and discouragements of the Christian pilgrimage as to
overlook its blessings and its helps. We dwell so much upon the sombre coloring
of the daily picture of life as to be insensible to its brighter hues. But did
we deal more with the good and less with the evil; did we weigh our mercies with
our trials; were we to reflect that if one sorrow is sent, how much heavier a
sorrow that one may have prevented,—if one trial comes, how much greater that
trial might have been,—and that when the Lord sends us one discomfort, or
permits one reverse, He sends us many comforts, and crowns our arms with many
victories,—that there is not a dispensation of His providence, whatever its form
and complexion, that is not a vehicle of mercy, that does not breathe a
beatitude,—that the blessing of God, the smile of Jesus, and the voice of the
Spirit’s love, are in every event and incident and circumstance of our
history,—then, what a more thankful, praiseful spirit should we cherish! how
should we examine our hearts to discover and expel thence the lurking spirit of
murmur and rebellion and fretting against the Lord! how should we uplift every
window, and remove every vail that would admit the beams of God’s goodness
entering and penetrating every recess, and lighting up the entire soul with the
sunshine of mercy, and making it vocal with the music of praise! I have exhorted
you, beloved reader, to cultivate self-communion as to the matter of prayer;
with equal point and earnestness do I exhort you to this holy duty as to the
matter of praise. There exists a serious defect in the Christianity, a sad lack
in the religious experience of many of the Lord’s people touching this holy
exercise. The Lord has declared, “Whoso offereth praise glorifieth me.” And the
holy apostle, speaking by the Spirit, exhorts, “Be careful for nothing; but in
everything by prayer and supplication, with THANKSGIVING, let your requests be
made known unto God.” And in another place we learn how comprehensive is this
precept, “Giving THANKS always for all things unto God and the Father in the
name of our Lord Jesus Christ,” (Eph. 5:20.) Thanks always for ALL things! Then
I am to cultivate a feeling of gratitude and to breathe a spirit of praise for
all that my God and Father pleases to send me. I am always to be in a thankful,
praiseful spirit for all the dispensations of His providence and grace. What a
holy state will my soul then be in! What happiness will it ensure to my heart,
and what a revenue of glory will accrue to God! How will it lighten my burdens,
soothe my cares, heal the chaffings of sorrow, and shed gleams of sunshine upon
many a lonely, dreary stage of my journey. I am too little praiseful. I am
looking only to the crossing of my will, to the disappointment of my hopes, to
the foil of my plans, to what my Father sees fit to restrain and withhold, and
not to the mercies and blessings, bright as the stars which glow and chime above
me, and numerous as the sands of the ocean upon which in pensive sadness I
tread; therefore it is that while those stars chant His praise, and those sands
speak His goodness and power, I alone am silent! And yet, my Father, there is
nothing in Thyself nor in Thy dealings which ought not to inspire my deepest
gratitude and praise to Thee!
“I thank Thee, O my God, who made
The earth so bright;
So full of splendour and of joy,
Beauty and light;
So many glorious things are here,
Noble and right!
“I thank Thee, too, that Thou hast made
Joy to abound;
So many gentle thoughts and deeds
Circling us round,
That in the darkest spot on earth
Some love is found.
“I thank Thee more that all our joy
Is touch’d with pain;
That shadows fall on brightest hours;
That thorns remain;
So that earth’s bliss may be our guide,
And not our chain.
“For Thou who knowest, Lord, how soon
Our weak heart clings,
Hast given us joys, tender and true,
Yet all with wings,
So that we see, gleaming on high,
Diviner things!
“I thank Thee, Lord, that Thou hast kept
The best in store;
We have enough, yet not too much
To wish for more;
A yearning for a deeper peace,
Not known before.
“I thank Thee, Lord, that here our souls,
Though amply blest,
Can never find, although they seek,
A perfect rest;
Nor ever shall, until they lean
On Jesus’ breast!”
—Proctor
Know with Certainty your Possession of Heart
Religion.
If, my beloved reader, there is one caution which I would urge with deeper
emphasis of meaning and solemnity of spirit than another, it is this—be not
satisfied without the clearest evidence of the personal possession of
HEART-RELIGION. In nothing does there exist a greater tendency, a more easy road
to fatal self-destruction than in this. The substitutes for heart-religion are
so many and subtle, that without the closest scrutiny and the most rigid
analysis of religious feeling and action, we may be betrayed, unsuspectingly to
ourselves, into the gravest error. You may be religious—very
religious—conscientiously religious, and yet be destitute of vital RELIGION.
Denominational partisanship is not—religion. Religious activity is not—religion.
You may be the warm promoter and patron of that which is Christian and
philanthropic and useful in its nature,—the school, the asylum, the bazaar, the
society,—and yet not possess RELIGION! You may aid in the building of churches,
in the appointment of ministers, in the securing of endowments, in the sanitary,
moral, and intellectual well-being of a community, and still be destitute of
VITAL RELIGION. You may submit to the rite of baptism, may go to the Lord’s
table, may take upon you in any form the vows of God, and yet remain without a
changed heart and a renewed mind. All this which I have been describing is but
religious still life—the mere galvanism, the simulation, the counterfeit of
vital godliness—a wretched copy of the original! Examine yourself by these
tests: Do I know that my sins are pardoned through Christ? Have I peace with God
in Jesus? Am I living in the enjoyment of the Spirit of adoption? Have I in my
soul the happiness, the joy, the consolation, the hope which heart-religion
imparts? Or—solemn thought!—am I endeavouring to quiet my conscience, to stifle
self-reflection, to divert my thoughts from my unsatisfactory, unhappy condition
and state of mind by the religious substitutes and subterfuges with which the
present age so profusely abounds, and which, with those who are ensnared by
them, pass for real spiritual life? Oh, commune faithfully with your own heart
touching this matter!
Directions as to the Manner in which Self
Communion is to be Engaged.
A few directions as to the manner of engaging in this solemn duty of
self-communion:—A spiritual work, we must, in its engagement, seek earnestly the
aid of the Holy Spirit. He alone can enable us to unlock the wards, to unravel
the mystery, and to penetrate into the vailed depths of our own heart. We need
the knowledge, the grace, the love of the Spirit in a task so purely spiritual
as this. Let us, then, betake ourselves to the Holy Ghost, invoke His power,
supplicate His grace, and seek His renewed anointing. Our hearts His perpetual
home, enshrined there in the new creation He has formed for Himself, He is
better acquainted with them than we are ourselves, and is prepared to aid us
faithfully and successfully to discharge this difficult and humbling task of
self-communion. “Ye have an unction from the Holy One, and know all things.”
This divine anointing will essentially assist you in an experimental knowledge
of yourself.
Blend communion with Christ with self-communion. Let converse with your own
heart be in unison with converse with the heart of God. Endeavour to realize
that in this sacred engagement God is with you, His thoughts towards you
thoughts of peace, and the feelings of His heart the warm pulsations of His
love. Associate all views of yourself with this view of God: that whatever
discoveries you arrive at of waywardness and folly, idolatry and sin,—however
dark and humiliating the inward picture,—not a frown of displeasure shall glance
from His eye, nor a word of reproach breathe from His lips. Oh, do you think
that He will join in your self-accusation? that because you loathe, and abhor,
and condemn yourself, He will likewise loathe, abhor, and condemn you? Never.
Listen to His words:—“Thus saith the high and lofty One that inhabiteth
eternity, whose name is Holy; I dwell in the high and holy place, with him also
that is of a contrite and humble spirit, to revive the spirit of the humble, and
to revive the heart of the contrite ones.” Bending low at His feet, in
penitential acknowledgment of sin, in the holy act of self-communion and prayer,
no atmosphere shall encircle and embrace you but the atmosphere of Divine
forgiving love.
I venture to suggest another and the most important direction in this work of
self-communion,—Commune with your own heart, looking fully to the cross of
Christ. Without this, self-examination may induce the spirit of bondage. It
should never be entered upon but upon the principles, and in the spirit of the
gospel. It is only as we deal closely with the Atonement, we can deal closely
with sin. It is only as we deal faithfully with the blood, that we can deal
faithfully with our own hearts. Overwhelming were the revelations of a rigid
self-scrutiny but for the hold faith maintains of the sacrifice of Christ—the
close, realizing apprehension it has of the cross of Jesus. You must commune
with Christ’s heart and your own heart at the same moment! Looking at Jesus in
the face, you will be enabled to look your sins in the face; and as your love to
Him deepens, so will deepen your sin and self-abhorrence. As has been
beautifully remarked, “for one look at yourself, take ten looks at Christ;” no
dark discovery will then sink you to despair. Ah, how little we deal with the
heart of our Lord! We find finite depths of iniquity in our own, but we forget
the infinite depths of grace that are in His. Ours is cold and fickle in its
love and constancy—His is overflowing with a love as changeless and immutable as
His being. Oh, then, take every discovery you make in this humbling task of
self-scrutiny to Christ. Remember that if you are a believer in the Lord Jesus,
every sin and infirmity and deficiency you discover, Christ has died for, He has
shed His blood for, and has for ever put away; and that, repairing anew to His
atonement and His grace, you shall have your iniquities subdued, and your
conscience purified, and your soul reinstated in a sense of pardon and Divine
acceptance. It is beneath the cross alone that sin shall be seen, hated,
conquered, and forsaken. Sin, guilt, unbelief, impenitence, cannot live a moment
under the sacred shadow of the cross of Christ. Drag your foe there, and it is
slain. Go there, my soul, and weep, mourn, and love; and in communing with thine
own heart, oh, forget not the yet deeper, closer communion with the heart of
Jesus!
We will group together a few of the hallowed BLESSINGS that result from this
habit of self-communion. In the first place, it will help to keep you acquainted
with the true state of your soul. By this daily survey you will know how matters
stand between God and your own conscience. Sin shall not seek supremacy, and you
not know it; the world will not obtain an ascendancy, and you not be conscious
of it; the creature will not become idolatrous, and you not be suspicious of its
encroachment; Christ will not grow less in your estimation and love, and you
remain insensible to the change. Self-communion will keep you whole nights upon
your watch-tower, and the foe shall not surprise you. The duty, too, will
increasingly deepen the conviction of your individuality. You will feel it to be
a solemn privilege to commune with your own heart; and thus your own
responsibility—a fact so lamentably overlooked—will appear in its proper and
impressive light. How few indulge in this searching inquiry into the state of
their own hearts, lest their self-esteem should be lowered! “Hence it is that we
meet continually with persons possessed of great shrewdness and sagacity in all
other matters who are most lamentably ignorant of themselves. Many have obtained
an extraordinary knowledge of mankind in general, and can discover at once the
weak points of every individual, but are pitiably blind to every one of their
own infirmities: it is amusing to observe that of all persons within the circle
of their acquaintanceship they are perhaps the only parties to whom their own
failings are unknown”—M’Cosh. Prosecuting honestly and vigorously this
self-research, you will have less time and still less inclination to examine and
judge your fellows. Vain and officious attempts to penetrate and unvail the
hearts of others will give place to the yet more neglected, important, and
humbling work of examining, unvailing, and searching your own heart. Oh that all
who profess the name of the Lord Jesus were more deeply concerned about the
spiritual condition of themselves as in the sight of God! There would then be
less censoriousness and uncharitableness, less judging the motives and
condemning the actions of others, and more humility, kindness, and love in the
Church of God. Commune with your own heart, and leave to others the solemn
responsibility and duty of communing with theirs. To their Master they stand or
fall. Enter into your chamber, and in the solemn, the awful stillness of an hour
spent alone with God, deal with your own heart and be still. This work
faithfully done, you will emerge thence too much filled with astonishment and
condemnation at the discoveries you have made of your own self, to examine,
judge, and condemn others!
Self-communion, too, will greatly conduce to growth in personal holiness. The eye will be more concentrated upon the seat of evil, the sentinel of your heart will be more wakeful, and sin and temptation will have less power to surprise and overcome you. It will also promote true humility. Self-communion will lead to self-acquaintance, and this in its turn will dispel those vain delusions and conceits with which the flattery of others may have inflated us. Alas that there should be so much religious flattery and compliment—the most ensnaring and injurious of all species of adulation—among professors of religion! Here is the antidote—self-knowledge! This will turn the fine edge of the fatal weapon—self-communion! The too fond and partial opinion of your graces, your spiritual attainments and your usefulness, expressed by others, will leave you unscathed if you are found in much communion with your own heart in your chamber. Few spiritual engagements, too, will more vigorously promote in your soul the yet higher and more solemn one of prayer. To know in some degree ourselves,—the heart, whose infirmities others see not, nor even suspect, but which we know to be so vile,—is to impel us to prayer. Once more, how precious will Jesus grow with growing self-communion! How will it endear His atonement, His grace, yea, Himself, to the heart! That engagement which deepens the conviction of our own sinfulness, helplessness, and need, which discovers to us taint and flaw and imperfection in the “hidden part,” the fountain all poisoned and impure, must deepen our sense of the infinite worth and preciousness of the Saviour. Whither can we look with one gleam of hope but to His blood and righteousness? That sacrifice offered once for all, that divine atonement, that perfect work, that righteousness that raises us above all demerit into the sunshine of God’s presence, the light of which reveals not a speck upon us, just meets our case, quells our fears, and assures us of divine acceptance. Surely, then, the closer the acquaintance we form with ourselves, whilst it throws us upon the Saviour, must render Him an object increasingly precious to our hearts. Dealing closely with our own selves in the time of God’s dispensations will elucidate much that is obscure, explain much that is mysterious, and soothe much that is painful and sad. When the Psalmist was sorely tried in his soul, when his sore ran in the night and ceased not, when his soul refused to be comforted, and his spirit was overwhelmed, when he was so troubled that he could not speak, then came the remedy: “I call to remembrance my song in the night: I commune with, mine own heart: and my spirit made diligent search.” And when from this process of self-communion,—searching into all the thousand memories of God’s past loving-kindness and faithfulness laid up in the heart,—he arose, he arose a victor over all his dark forebodings, and gloomy fears, and depressing sorrows; his faith confirmed in the truth that the Lord never casts off His people, that His promise fails not for evermore, that He had not forgotten to be gracious, nor in anger had shut up His tender mercies. Is thy heart searching for one spring of comfort, for one ray of hope, for one throb of love in this the long, dreary night of thy sorrow? Search, O child of God! for thou shalt find some stored remembrance there of God’s past faithfulness and love, and this shall be a token to thee that all that the Lord thy God has been to thee, He is now, and will be for ever. “When my heart is overwhelmed, lead me to the Rock that is higher than I.”
“Be still!” Let communion with your own heart soothe it to perfect peace and repose, calm in the assurance that nothing shall separate it from God’s love,—that the government of all worlds and all beings and all things is upon Christ’s shoulders,—that your heavenly Father is causing all things in your individual history to work together for good,—and that you may wait with confidence, quietness, and cheerful composure the issue of the night of gloom and tears which now enshrouds your soul within its gloomy pavilion. “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.”
“And what am I? My soul awake,
And an impartial survey take;
Does no dark sign, no ground of fear,
In practice or in heart appear?
“What image does my spirit bear?
Is Jesus form’d and living there?
Say, do His lineaments divine
In thought, in word, and action shine?
“Searcher of hearts! oh, search me still;
The secrets of my soul reveal;
My fears remove, let me appear
To God and my own conscience clear!
“Scatter the clouds which o’er my head
Thick glooms of dubious terrors spread;
Lead me into celestial day,
And to myself myself display.
“May I at that blest world arrive
Where Christ through all my soul shall live,
And give full proof that He is there,
Without one gloomy doubt or fear!”
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