Childlike Confidence in God

Religious faith, like natural faith, has its appropriate objects; objects, which are in some way connected with religious experience. As natural faith is known in part, by attaching itself to natural objects; so one of the marks or characteristics of religious faith is, that it attaches itself to religious objects.

The facts, which we notice in children, furnish an illustration of what has now been said. The life of children, I suppose, may in general be regarded as a life of faith. Not of religious faith, it is true; but still of faith, of natural faith. It is interesting to see, though they know that they are entirely dependent for food, raiment, and a home, what entire confidence they repose in their parents; a confidence, which, in excluding doubt, banishes anxiety. Hence it is that they live in such simplicity and quietness of spirit; and in the language of Scripture, are “careful for nothing.” When the object of this state of mind is changed, and it is transferred from the earthly parent to God, it becomes religious faith. The existence of such faith not only constitutes God our Father; but those who exercise it, become, in the language of the Savior, “like little children.” They have the same simple-hearted confidence. Freed from the anxieties of unbelief, they leave their life and their health, their food and their raiment, their joy and their sorrow, in the divine keeping. The resemblance or analogy between the two states of mind, as represented in these two cases, is essentially complete. And yet one of them is to be regarded and spoken of as an instance of natural faith merely. The other is a religious faith.

I find, in the writings of Richard Cecil, an illustration of the view of the subject just given, which seems to me to be suitable to be introduced here.—

“I imprinted on my daughter,” this devout writer remarks, “the idea of Faith, at a very early age. She was playing one day with a few beads, which seemed to delight her wonderfully. Her whole soul was absorbed in her beads. I said—‘My dear, you have some pretty beads there.’ ‘Yes, Papa!’ ‘And you seem to be vastly pleased with them.’ ‘Yes, Papa!’ ‘Well now, throw them behind the fire.’ The tears started into her eyes. She looked earnestly at me, as though she ought to have a reason for such a cruel sacrifice. ‘Well, my dear, do as you please; but you know I never told you to do any thing, which I did not think would be good for you.’ She looked at me a few moments longer, and then summoning up all her fortitude — her breast heaving with the effort — she dashed them into the fire. ‘Well,’ said I: ‘there let them lie: you shall hear more about them another time; but say no more about them now.’ Some days after, I bought her a box full of larger beads, and toys of the same kind. When I returned home, I opened the treasure and set it before her: she burst into tears with ecstasy. ‘Those, my child,’ said I, ‘are yours, because you believed me, when I told you it would be better for you to throw those two or three paltry beads behind the fire. Now that has brought you this treasure. But now, my dear, remember, as long as you live, what FAITH is. I did all this to teach you the meaning of Faith. You threw your beads away when I bade you, because you had faith in me that I never advised you but for your good. Put the same confidence in God. Believe every thing that he says in his word. Whether you understand it or not, have faith in him that he means your good.”

— edited from The Life of Faith (1852) Part 1, Chapter 3.

When Our Ministries Do Not Bear Fruit

There are few situations more trying than those in which we find our labors for the spiritual good of others fruitless. It requires strong faith, especially in ministers of the Gospel, not to find the yoke of God's providence, which binds us to such a situation, a heavy one. Nevertheless it is possible, that the duty which we owe to our heavenly Father, requires us to stay there with the same submission and the same grateful confidence, which reconcile us to other trying circumstances.

— Religious Maxims (1846) CLXXVI.

Rest From Disquieting Fears

The soul which is brought into entire harmony with God, has rest from all disquieting fears. It is a declaration of the Scriptures, and is no less evident from one's own consciousness, that "fear hath torment.” 1 John 4:18.  In all cases, fear diminishes happiness; and, when it is very great, it is almost inconsistent with any degree of happiness. It  produces distrust; it causes agitation; it sunders friendship; it alienates love. From the wretchedness connected with this state of mind, the holy man has true rest; and no other man has.

Among other things which tend to illustrate these general views, we proceed to remark, that the holy man is delivered from the fear of want. The unrighteous man fears that he will come to want, because he has no faith. On the contrary, where faith and love are perfect, bread will not fail. God will multiply the widow's vessel of oil, or send his ravens, as he did to the famishing prophet, when his people who trust in him are hungry. "I have been young," says the Psalmist, "and now am old; yet have I not seen the righteous forsaken, nor his seed begging bread." Ps. 37:25.

It is proper to add here, it is not the mere fact that God will provide for his people, which delivers from fear; but the belief, the full confidence, that he will do it. And this is not all. The people of God are willing to suffer want, are willing to be as the Savior was, who had no place to lay his head, if God sees it best. In connection with such feelings, it is impossible for fear to exist.

— edited from A Treatise on Divine Union (1851) Part 8, Chapter 5.

Good For Evil

THEY DO NOT KNOW US. If they did,

They would not blame and smite us so.

To selfish hearts the light is hid,

And being blind, they cannot know.

Then let us not with anger burn,

Resembling thus our cruel foes;

But, when the cheek is smitten, turn

The other meekly to their blows.

With such forgiving words and deeds,

We claim the aid of that great Power,

Who knows His trusting people's needs,

And guards them in their trying hour.

God is thy battle's mighty arm;

God is thy great, victorious sword.

To him there comes nor fear nor harm,

Whose confidence is in the Lord.

— Christ in the Soul (1872) XXXIII.

Prayers for Sanctification Answered

On Sabbath evening, the 2d of February, I was greatly afflicted in mind; tossed to and fro as in a, tempest; and it, seemed to me that I could not easily stand where I was, but must either advance or retreat. But God's grace was sufficient. My faith remained unshaken; and, on Monday morning, I thought I could say with great calmness and assurance, Thou hast given me the victory. I was never able before that time to say with sincerity and confidence, that I loved my heavenly Father with all my soul and with all my strength. But, aided by divine grace, I have been enabled to use this language, which involves, as I understand it, the true idea of Christian perfection or holiness, both then and ever since. There was no intellectual excitement, no very marked joy, when I reached this great rock of practical salvation. The soul seemed to have gathered strength from the storm which I had passed through on the previous night; and, aided by a power from on high, it leaped forward, as it were by a bound, to the great and decisive mark. I was distinctly conscious when I reached it. The selfish exercises which had recently, and, as it were, by a concentrated and spasmodic effort, troubled me so much, seemed to be at once removed; and I believed, and had reason to believe, that my heart, presumptuous as it may appear to some to say it, was now purified by the Holy Spirit, and made right with God. I was thus, if I was not mistaken in my feelings, no longer an offering to the world, but SANCTIFIED UNTO THE LORD; given to Him to be His, and no longer my own; redeemed by a mighty power, and filled with the blessing of "perfect love."

The enemy might now be said to be cast out of the interior of the castle. Nevertheless, he has never ceased his hostility; He has laid his snares and presented his temptations. It would be presumption to assert positively that I had never in any case, nor for any length of time, yielded to his power. But I can testify abundantly to the goodness of God's grace, that he has heard the voice of my prayer, and in a wonderful manner preserved me. Certain it is that my spiritual life has been a new life. There is calm sunshine upon the soul. The praise of God is continually upon my lips.

[TO BE CONTINUED]

— from Phoebe W. Palmer (editor), Pioneer Experiences or The Gift of Power Received by Faith Illustrated and Confirmed by the Testimony of Eighty Living Ministers of Various Denominations (1872).

Love Rises and Falls in Proportion to Faith

Love not only requires faith as its basis, but it is equally obvious and equally certain, that our love will rise and fall, just in proportion to our faith. If, for instance, our hearts are full of love to God at the present moment, and we should the next moment cease to believe in him as a God of truth, goodness, and justice, our love would necessarily terminate at once. Or if our faith should not cease entirely, but should merely become perplexed and weakened for some reasons, our love would become perplexed and weakened just in the same degree. Such is the great law of our intellectual and moral being; and such is the doctrine of the Scriptures.

— The Life of Faith (1852) Part 1, Chapter 6.

Faith is the Source of Feeling

Faith is the source, the parent of all true feeling and affection in the natural sense, as well as in the religious sense. Certain it is, that this statement admits of an easy and a satisfactory illustration in the case of the affection of love. It requires no proof to sustain the assertion, that natural love is based upon natural faith. If we have entire confidence in another, if we believe him to be amiable and pure in feeling, and upright in principle, it is the natural result of such confidence, that we shall love him. And on the other hand, it will be very difficult, and I think we may say, it will be found naturally impossible for a person to love another, (except, perhaps, with that lower form of love, which is synonymous with pity or sympathy,) in whom he has no faith. And the same confidence, the same faith, which inspires the affection of love in the first instance, gives it permanency in time to come. The one perpetuates itself in company with the other. Suggestions may arise, and temptations may assail us, but love will live, if confidence does not perish. But how soon does our love to a person, to whom we were once devotedly attached, cease, when our faith in him ceases! No sooner is the confidence, which we reposed in his amiability, in his truth and honor, and other estimable qualities, taken away; in other words, no sooner is our faith in the existence of these traits taken away, than the love, which rested upon it, falls at once to the ground.

The law of the religious affections is the same. They always imply the antecedent existence of faith. Religious faith, sustained by the Holy Spirit, but operating in a manner entirely analogous to the operations of natural faith, is undoubtedly the true basis of religious love. Without the key of faith the foundation of divine love, which refreshes and gives beauty to the whole soul, would never be opened within us. It would be impossible; because it would obviously be a result, not only without reason, but against reason. It is because we believe or have faith in God as just, benevolent and holy, as possessed of every possible perfection calculated to attract and secure our love, that we love him.

— The Life of Faith (1852) Part 1, Chapter 6.

Faith is Better than Intellectual Illumination

Faith is better to us, far better, than mere intellectual illumination, better than any strength of joyous emotion; better than any thing and every thing else, except holy love, of which it is the true parent. The fallen angels, in their primitive state of holiness, had illuminations, great discoveries of God and of heavenly things, and great raptures. But when their faith failed, when they ceased to have perfect confidence in God, they fell into sin and ruin. Our first parents fell in the same way; because they ceased to have confidence in God; because they ceased to believe him to be what he professed to be, and that he would do what he declared he would do. Their previous glorious experiences, their illuminations and joys, availed nothing, as soon as unbelief entered. Unbelief in them, and unbelief in their descendants, has ever been the great, the destructive sin. And faith on the other hand, an implicit confidence in God, a perfect self-abandonment into his hands, ever has been, and from the nature of the case ever must be the fountain of all other internal good, the life of all other life in the soul.

— The Interior of Hidden Life (2nd edition, 1844). Part 1, Chapter 5.

O God, We are Thine; For Ever Thine

No man ever arrived at Christian perfection, no man ever  can arrive at that ennobling state, who  walks by sight, rather than by faith, and of whom it cannot be said, as of the father of the faithful, "he went out, not knowing whither he went." Perhaps we may say, it is the highest attainment of the soul, (certainly it is the foundation of the highest or perfect state in all other Christian attainments,) that of entire and unwavering confidence in God. O God, we are thine; for ever thine. We will not let Thee go, until Thou bless us. And when Thou dost bless us, still we will not let Thee go. For without Thee, even blessing would be turned into cursing. Therefore we will ever trust in Thee.

— Religious Maxims (1846) XXV.

Sanctification Diminishes Fanaticism

In proportion as the heart becomes sanctified, there is a diminished tendency to enthusiasm and fanaticism. And this is undoubtedly one of the leading tests of sanctification. One of the marks of an enthusiastic and fanatical state of mind, is a fiery and unrestrained impetuosity of feeling; a rushing on, sometimes very blindly, as if the world were in danger, or as if the great Creator were not at the helm. It is not only feeling without a due degree of judgment, but, what is the corrupting and fatal trait, it is feeling without a due degree of confidence in God. True holiness reflects the image of  God in this respect as well as in others, that it is calm, thoughtful, deliberate, immutable. And how  can it be otherwise, since, rejecting its own wisdom and strength, it incorporates into itself the wisdom and strength of the Almighty.

— Religious Maxims (1846) XII.