No Guilt! No Guilt!

How can I be just in God's eyes? How can I, a sinner, be made righteous? It is only through Jesus that I can be brought into harmony with God, with holiness; but how am I to come to Jesus? The multitude on the Day of Pentecost, when, convicted of sin, cryied out, "What shall we do?" Peter's first word was, "repent." Shortly afterwards, he said, "Repent,...and be converted, that your sins may be wiped out."

Repentance includes sorrow for sin and a turning away from it. But unless I see its sinfulness, I won't renounce sin; until I turn away from it in heart, there will be no real change in my life.

What is the true nature of repentance? Do I misunderstand it? Do I sorrow that I have sinned and make an outward reformation because I fear that my wrongdoing will bring me suffering. This is not repentance in the Biblical sense. This is simply lamenting the suffering rather than the sin. Such was the grief of Esau when he saw that the birthright was lost to him forever. Balaam, terrified by the angel standing in his pathway with drawn sword, acknowledged his guilt lest he should lose his life; but there was no genuine repentance for sin, no conversion of purpose, no abhorrence of evil. Judas Iscariot, after betraying his Lord, exclaimed, "I have sinned for I have betrayed innocent blood." The confession was forced from his guilty soul by an awful sense of condemnation and in dreadful fear of judgment. The consequences to come filled him with terror, but there was no deep, heartbreaking grief in his soul, that he had betrayed the spotless Son of God and denied the Holy One of Israel. And Pharaoh, when suffering under the judgments of God, acknowledged his sin in order to escape further punishment, but returned to his defiance of Heaven as soon as the plagues were stayed. These all lamented the results of sin, but did not sorrow for the sin itself.

But if I yield my heart to the influence of the Spirit of God, my conscience will be quickened, and I discern something of the depth and sacredness of God's holy law, the foundation of His government in heaven and on earth. "The true light that gives light to every man," illumines the secret chambers of my soul, and the hidden things of darkness are made visible. Conviction takes hold upon my mind and heart. Only then have I a sense of the righteousness of Jehovah and feel the terror of appearing, in my own guilt and uncleanness, before the Searcher of hearts. I see the love of God, the beauty of holiness, the joy of purity; I long to be cleansed and to be restored to communtion with heaven.

The prayer of David after his fall, illustrates the nature of true sorrow for sin. His repentance was sincere and deep. There was no effort to palliate his guilt; no desire to escape the judgment threatened, inspired his paryer. David saw the enormity of his transgression; he saw the defilement of his soul; he loathed his sin. It was not for pardon only that he prayed, but for purity of heart. He longed for the joy of holiness -- to be restored to harmony and communion with God. He said:

"Blessed is he
whose transgressions are forgiven,
whose sins are covered.
Blessed is the man
whose sin the Lord does not count against him
And in whose spirit is no deceit."

"Have mercy upon me, O God,
according to your unfailing love;
According to your great compassion
blot out my transgressions...
For I know my transgressions:
and my sin is always before me...
Cleanse me with Hyssop,
and I will be clean: wash me,
and I will be whiter than snow...
Create in me a pure heart, O God,
and renew a steadfast spirit within me.
Do not cast me from your presence;
or take your Holy Spirit from me.
Restore to me the joy of your salvation;
And grant me a willing spirit to sustain me...
Save me from bloodguilt, O God,
the God who saves me,
And my tongue will sing of your righeousness."

A repentance such as this is beyond the reach of my own power to accomplish; it is obtained only from Jesus, who ascended up on high and has given gifts to men.

Just here is a point on which I may err, and hence fail of receiving the help that Jesus desires to give me. I might think that I cannot come to Jesus unless I first repent, and that repentance prepares for the forgiveness of my sins. It is true that repentance does precede the forgiveness of sins; for it is only the broken and contrite heart that will feel the need of a Saviour. But must I, a sinner, wait till I have repented before I can come to Jesus? Is repentance to be made an obstacle between us?

The Bible does not teach that I must repent before I can heed the invitation of Jesus, "Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest." It is the virtue that emanates from Jesus that leads to genuine repentance. Peter made the matter clear in his statement to the Israelites when he said, "God exalted him to his own right hand as Prince and Saviour, that He might give repentance and forgiveness of sins." I can no more repent without the Spirit of Jesus to awaken the conscience than I can be pardoned without Jesus.

Jesus is the source of every right impulse. He is the only one that can implant in my heart enmity against sin. Every desire for truth and purity, every conviction of my own sinfulness, is an evidence that His Spirit is moving upon my heart.

Jesus has said, "I, when I am lifted up from the earth, will draw all men to Me." Jesus is revealed as the Saviour dying for the sins of the world; and as I behold the Lamb of God upon the Cross of Calvary, the mystery of redemption begins to unfold to my mind and the goodsness of God leads me to repentance. In dying for me, Jesus manifested a love that is incomprehensible. It softens my heart, impresses my mind, and inspires me to repentance.

It is true that I may sometimes become ashamed of my sinful ways, and give up some of my evil habits, before I am conscious that I am being drawn to Jesus. But if ever I make an effort to reform, from a sincere desire to do right, it is the power of Jesus that is drawing me. An influence of which I may be uncomscious works upon my soul, and my conscience is quickened, and my outward life is ammended. And as Jesus draws me to look upon His cross, to behold Him whom my sins have pierced, the commandments come home to my conscience. The wickedness of my life, the deep-seated sin of my soul, is revealed to me. I begin to comprehend something of the righteousness of Jesus, and exclaim, "What is sin, that it should require such a sacrifice for the redemption of its victim? Was all this love, all this suffering, all the humiliation, demanded, that I might not perish, but have everlasting life?"

I may resist this love, I may refuse to be drawn to Jesus; but if I do not resist, I can't help but be drawn to Jesus; a knowledge of the plan of salvation will lead me to the foot of the cross in repentance for my sins, which have caused the sufferings of God's dear Son.

The same divine mind that is working upon the things of nature is speaking to my heart and creating an inexpressible craving for something I don't have. The things of the world cannot satisfy that longing. The Spirit of God is pleading with me to seek for those things that alone can give peace and rest -- the Grace of Jesus, the joy of holiness. Through influences seen and unseen, the Saviour is constantly at work to attract my mind from the unsatisfying pleasures of sin to the infinite blessings that may be mine in him. To all, like myself, who are vainly seeking to drink from the broken cisterns of the world, the divine message is addressed, "Whoever is thirsty; let him come; and whoever wishes, let him take the free gift of the water of life."

When I long for something better than this world can give, I need to recognize this longing as the voice of God to me. I only need to ask Him to give me repentance, to reveal Jesus to me in His infinite love, in His perfect purity. In the Saviour's life the priciples of God's law -- Love to God and mankind -- were perfectly exemplified. Unselfish love was the life of His soul. It is as I look at Him, as the light from my Saviour falls upon me, that I see the sinfulness of my own heart.

I may have flattered myself, as did Nicodemus, that my life has been upright, that my moral character is correct, and think that I need not humble my heart before God, like the common sinner. But, when the light from Jesus shines into my soul, I shall see how impure I am; I shall discern the selfishness of motive, the enmity against God, that has defiled every act of my life. Then I shall know that my own righteousness is indeed as filthy rags, and that the blood of Jesus alone can cleanse me from the defilement of sin, and renew my heart in His own likeness.

One ray of the Glory of God, one gleam of the purity of Jesus, penetrating my soul, makes every spot of defilement painfully distinct, and lays bare the deformity and defects of my character. It makes apparent the unhallowed desires, the infidelity of my heart, the impurity of my lips. My acts of disloyalty in making void the law (love) of God, are exposed to his sight, and my spirit is stricken and afflicted under the searching influence of the Spirit of God. I loath myself as I view the pure, spotless character of Jesus.

When the prophet Daniel beheld the glory surrounding the heavenly messenger that was sent unto him, he was overwhelmed with a sense of his own weakness and imperfection. Describing the effect of the wonderful scene, he says, "I had no strength left, my face turned deathly pale and I was helpless." The soul thus touched will hate its selfishness, abhor its self-love, and will seek, through Jesus's righteousness, for the purity of heart that is in harmony with the law of God and the character of Jesus.

Paul says that as "for legalistic righteousness," -- as far as outward acts were concerned -- he was "faultless;" but when the spiritual character of the law of love was discerned, he saw himself a sinner. Judged by the letter of the law as men apply it to the outward life, he had abstained from sin; but when he looked into the depths of its holy precepts, and saw himself as God saw him, he bowed in humiliation and confessed his guilt. He says, "Once I was alive apart from the law; but when the commandment came, sin sprang to life and I died." When he saw the spiritual nature of the law of love, sin appeared in its true hideousness, and his self-esteem was gone.

God does not regard all sins as of equal magnitude; there are degrees of guilt in His estimation, as well as in mine; but however trifling this or that wrong act may seem in my eyes, no sin is small in the sight of God. My judgment is partial, imperfect; but God estimates all things as they really are. The drunkard is despised and is told that his sin will exclude him from heaven; while pride, selfishness, and covetousness too often go unrebuked. But these are sins that are especially offensive to God; for they are contrary to the benevolence of His character, to that unselfish love which is the very atmosphere of the unfallen universe. If I fall into some of the grosser sins I may feel a sense of shame and poverty and my need of the grace of Jesus; but my pride feels no need, and so it closes my heart against Jesus and the infinite blessings he came to give.

The poor Publican who prayed, "God be merciful to me a sinner," regarded himself as a very wicked man, and others looked upon him in the same light; but he felt his need, and with his burden of guilt and shame he came before God, asking for His mercy. His heart was open for the Spirit of God to do its gracious work and set him free from the power of sin. The Pharisee's boastful, self-righteous prayer showed that his heart was closed against the influence of the Holy Spirit. Because of his distance from God, he had no sense of his own defilement, in contrast with the perfection of the divine holiness. He felt no need, and he received nothing.

I may see my sinfulness, but I need not wait to make myself better. Am I among those who think they are not good enough to come to Jesus? Do I expect to become better though my own efforts? "Can the Ethiopian change his skin, or the leopard its spots? Neither can you do good who are accustomed to doing evil." There is help only in God. I must not wait for stronger persuasions, for better opportunities, or for holier tempers. I can do nothing of myself. I must come to Jesus just as I am.

But I don't dare deceive myself with the thought that God, in His great love and mercy, will yet save even the rejectors of His grace. The exceeding sinfulness of sin can be estimated only in the light of the cross. If I were tempted to think that God is too good to cast off the sinner, let me look to Calvary. It was because there was no other way in which I could be saved, because without this sacrifice it was impossible for me to escape from the defiling power of sin, and be restored to communion with holy beings -- impossible for me again to become a partaker of spiritual life -- it was because of this that Jesus took upon Himself the guilt of the disobedient and suffered in my stead. The love and suffering and death of the Son of God all testify to the terrible enormity of sin and declare that there is no escape from its power, no hope of the higher life, but through the submission of my soul to Jesus.

Excuses not aceptable!

Do I try to excuse myself by saying of professed Christians. "I am as good as they are. They are no more self-denying, sober, or circumspect in their conduct than I am. They love pleasure and self-indulgence as well as I do." In this way making the faults of others an excuse for my own neglect of duty. But others sins and defects do not excuse me, for the Lord has not given me an erring human pattern to follow. Instead, the spotless Son of God has been given as my example, and if I am complaining of the wrong course of professed Christians then I should show a better live and nobler example. If I have so high a conception of what a Christian should be, is not my own sin so much the greater? I know what is right, and yet refuse to do it.

Don't Procrastinate!

I must beware of procrastination. I cannot put off the work of forsaking my sins and seeking purity of heart through Jesus. Here is were thousands upon thousands have erred to their eternal loss. I must not forget the shortness and uncertainty of life; there is a terrible danger -- a danger not sufficiently understood -- in delaying to yield to the pleading voice of God's Holy Spirit, in choosing to live in sin; for such this delay really is. Sin, however small it may be esteemed, can be indulged only at the peril of infinite loss. What I do not overcome, will overcome me and work out my destruction.

No Sin Small

Adam and Eve persuaded themselves that in so small a matter as eating of the forbidden fruit there could not result such terrible consequences as God had declared. But this small matter was the transgression of God's immutable and holy law of love, and they separated themselves from God and opened the floodgates of death and untold woe upon the world. Age after age there has gone up from our earth a continual cry of mourning, and the whole creation groans and travails together in pain as a consequence of man's disobedience. Heaven itself has felt the effects of our rebellion against God. Calvary stands as a memorial of the amazing sacrifice required to atone for the transgression of the divine law. Let me not regard sin as a trivial thing.

Every act of transgression, every neglect or rejection of the grace of Jesus, reacts upon myself; it is hardening the heart, depraving the will, benumbing the understanding, and not only making me less inclined to yield, but less capable to yielding, to the tender pleading of God's Holy Spirit.

Am I quieting a trouble conscience with the thought that I can change a course of evil when I choose; that I can trifle with the invitations of mercy, and yet be again and again impressed? Do I think that after doing despite to the Spirit of grace, after casting my influence on the side of Satan, in a moment of terrible extremity I can change my course. But this is not so easily done. The experience, the education, of a lifetime, so thoroughly molds the character that few then desire to receive the image of Jesus.

Even one wrong trait of character, one sinful desire, persistently cherished, will eventually neutralize all the power of the gospel. Every sinful indulgence strengthens my soul's aversion to God. If I manifest an infidel hardihood, or a stolid indiference to divine truth, I will reap the harvest of that which I have sown. In all the Bible there is not a more fearful warning aginst trifling with evil than the words of the wise man to the sinner that "the cords of his sin hold him fast."

Jesus is ready to set me free from sin, but He does not force my will; and if by persistent transgression my will is wholly bent on evil, and I do not desire to be set free, if I will not accept His grace, what more can He do? I will have destroyed myself by my determined rejection of His love. "Now is the time of God's favor; now is the day of salvation." "Today, if you hear His voice, do not harden your hearts."

"Man looks at the outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart" -- my human heart, with its conflicting emotions of joy and sorrow; my wandering, wayward heart, which is the abode of so much impurity and deceit. He knows its motives, its very intents and purposes. I must go to Him with my soul all stained as it is. Like the psalmist, I need to throw its chambers open to the all-seeing eye, exclaiming, "search me, O God, and know my heart: test me, and know my anxious thoughts. See if there is any offensive way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting."

Many accept an intellectual religion, a form of godliness, when the heart is not cleansed. But, let it be my prayer. "Create in me a pure heart, O God: and renew a steadfast spirit within me." I must deal truly with my own soul. And be as earnist, as persistent, as I would be if my mortal life were at stake. This is a matter to be settled between God and me, settled for eternity. A supposed hope, and nothing more, will prove my ruin.

As I study God's word I must do so prayerfully. That word presents before me, in the law of God's love and the life of Jesus, the great principles of holiness, without which "no one will see the Lord." It convinces of sin; it plainly reveals the way of salvation. I need to give heed to it as the voice of God speaking to my soul.

As I see the enormity of sin, as I see myself as I really am, I need not give up to despair. It was sinners such as I that Jesus came to save. I don't have to reconcile God to me, but God in Jesus is "reconciling the world unto Himself." He is wooing by His tender love the heart of this erring child. No earthly parent could be as patient with my faults and mistakes, as is God with me. No one could plead more tenderly with the transgressor. No human lips ever poured out more tender entreaties to the wanderer than does He. All His promises, His warnings, are but the breathing of unutterable love.

When Satan comes to tell me that I am a great sinner, I need only look up to my Redeemer and talk of His merits. That which will help me is to look to His light. Acknowledge my sin, but tell the enemy that "Chirst Jesus came into the world to save sinners" and that I may be saved by His matchless love. Jesus asked Simon a question in regard to two debtors. One owed his lord a small sum, and the other owed him a very large sum; but he forgave them both, and Jesus asked Simon which debtor would love his lord most. Simon answered, "the one whom had the bigger debt canceled." I have been a great sinner, but Jesus died that I might be forgiven. The merits of His sacrifice are sufficient to present to the Father in my behalf. Those to whom He has forgiven most will love Him most, and will stand nearest to His throne to praise Him for His great love and infinite sacrifice. It is when I most fully comprehend the love of God that I best realize the sinfulness of sin. When I see the length of the chain that was let down for me, when I understand something of the infinite sacrifice that Jesus has made in my behalf, my heart melts with tenderness and contrition.

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