The Opinions of Others

The person, who is in the exercise of a high degree of faith, has right views and right feelings in relation to the opinions of his fellow-men. He is not likely to attach either too high or too low a value to such opinions. 

It is well understood, I suppose, that God has implanted within us a Propensive principle, which may properly be described as the DESIRE OF ESTEEM; in other words has given us a natural regard for the opinions of men. The Scriptures also, in recognition of this principle, frequently speak in such a way as to imply the high estimation, which they place upon a good name, “a good report,” or a good reputation among men. 

It is no part of Christianity, therefore, always and absolutely to disregard their opinions. But there are times in every man’s life, when, if he is faithful to truth and to duty, he may reasonably expect to be erroneously estimated, and to be the subject not only of wrong opinions, but of wrong and false accusations. 

But he, who places a calm and full trust in God, will fear no evil. He can say with the Apostle, “It is a small thing to be judged of man’s judgment.” When we are troubled at every little misapprehension of our conduct, and are in a hurry to set it right, lest, perchance, our good name should suffer; or when in solitary inactivity we repine over the cruelty and injustice of our fellow-men, we give unhappy evidence, that unbelief, the fruitful source of so many and great evils, is still lingering and nourishing in our bosoms. He, who in the exercise of belief has abandoned his heart to God, is strong in the consciousness of the divine protection, and is not afraid, when called to it in the discharge of his duty, of being either despised or persecuted.

It is a remark of the author of the Imitation of Christ, that some men will “suffer but a certain degree of evil, and only from particular persons.” The man, who, by the annihilation of self, and in the exercise of strong faith, is truly abandoned to God, makes no distinctions of this kind. He submits himself to the blow of the smiter without any reserve; giving thanks to God that he is accounted “worthy to suffer,” by any instrument or in any degree. He has nothing to say, when the will of the Lord has once manifested itself, as to time or place, degree or agencies. He takes the cup, with all its bitter ingredients, just as his heavenly Father has mingled it. He adopts the language of the Savior, “The cup, which my Father giveth me, shall I not drink it?” 

— edited from The Life of Faith, Part 2, Chapter 5.

The Desire for Knowledge

The desire of knowledge is another principle, coming under the same general class of mental tendencies, which requires regulation; but which never can be regulated without faith. 

As those, who are desirous of making God’s law the rule of their conduct, we are at liberty to know only what God would have us know. It would certainly be absurd to suppose, that the principle of curiosity, one of the most powerful principles in our mental constitution, operating for the most part during all the moments of consciousness, and involving in its action immense consequences both to ourselves and others, is permitted to act without being responsible to law, and without incurring either guilt or merit. 

In this thing, as in other things, we must trust ourselves with God; believing that he will furnish opportunities of knowledge, and will give strength in the pursuit of knowledge, whenever his providence and his law impose duties which render knowledge desirable and necessary. 

Remain, therefore, in the attitude of waiting upon God, who gives light to the understanding, as well as renovation to the heart. Neither yield to fear on the one hand, nor to the suggestions of eager desire on the other. As christians we ought not to desire, and we certainly do not need any light, which comes from the world or from a worldly spirit; but the illumination, which comes from God’s wisdom and God’s will, is indispensable. And it is so, because it is precisely that kind and degree of light, which is adapted to the situation in which his providence has placed us. And this light he will never fail to give us, if in humility and consecration of heart we are willing to trust him for it.

— edited from The Life of Faith, Part 2, Chapter 5.

The Social Tendency

The social tendency, another strong Propensive principle, requires to be sanctified. Man does not and cannot regulate, as he ought to regulate, his intercourse with his fellow-men, without faith in God. 

He must have faith in something. And, so far as we can judge in the case, it is obviously a law of his nature, that he will attach to men all that faith, which he withdraws from God. Without faith in God, he will be likely in many cases to make his fellow-men the object of his idolatry; and will bestow upon them, unwisely and wickedly, that confidence and affection, which ought to be given somewhere else. 

Or it may be that without faith in God, he may make himself the object of his idolatry, and may thus in some cases not only withhold from God what is due to him, but may also withhold a proper degree of social interest in those around him. 

Whether we seek the society of others too much, or avoid it too much, we shall find in either case, that the evil influences of selfishness are at the bottom, and that we are violating a moral and religious duty. Faith, which in its applications and results makes us do what God would have us do, furnishes, in this case as in others, the only safe regulating principle.

— edited from The Life of Faith, Part 2, Chapter 5.

 

Faith and The Desire for Life

The Appetites, which always attract especial attention as having usurped a dominion over man to which they are not entitled, are tendencies or desires, which are closely connected with the necessities of our physical system. We have seen in what manner they may be regulated and purified. 

The propensive principles, which are more closely connected with the necessities of the mental nature, and are generally regarded as sustaining a higher rank, are liable to be perverted, as well as the appetites; and need continually the purifying influences and the restraints of sanctifying grace. And if faith, by its action either direct or indirect, can purify and subordinate the lower principles, which are so often perverted and are known to be so violent in their perversion, there is no reason to suppose that it has less of regulating and sanctifying efficacy in its application to other and higher parts of our nature.
 

The desire of life, that is to say, the desire of the preservation and of the continuance of life, is not, in the proper sense of the terms, an Appetite; but it is obviously an implanted principle of our nature, which may properly be denominated a PROPENSITY. 

He, who has faith, may be said, just in proportion as he has it, to take his “life in his hands,” as the Scriptures express it, and to hold it at the divine pleasure. The anxieties, which afflict others, and which often render their lives a burden, do not, in a great degree, trouble those, who believe. Admitting, as they cannot well do otherwise, the correctness of the common remark, that in life we are in the midst of death, and admitting all that can be justly said of our constant exposure to various sufferings, they leave the issues of their earthly being in his hands, who gave it, without disquieting solicitude. The season of danger, even when the natural instincts take the alarm, is not a season of distrust and unholy fear; and when in the course of divine providence, the hour of dissolution comes, it comes rightly and well. “Is not the life,” says the Savior, “more than meat, and the body than raiment? Behold the fowls of the air; for they sow not, neither do they reap, nor gather into barns; yet your heavenly Father feedeth them. Are ye not much better than they?”

— edited from The Life of Faith, Part 2, Chapter 5

Faith is the Foundation of the Love of God

Love, which in being supreme makes God its centre, never exists, and it is not possible that it should ever exist except in connection with and as the consequent of a faith, which has the same centre, and exists in the same degree. 

Faith is the foundation. Faith is the deeper principle; although it must be admitted, that love is a state of mind, which, generally speaking, is more distinct in our consciousness, and is more obvious to common apprehension and remark. When, therefore, we have faith, we have all that is necessary for us, provided we have all the faith, which God requires us to have.

— The Life of Faith, Part 2, Chapter 4.

God Alone is the Proper Center of Human Love

God alone is the proper centre of love. God alone, in consequence of the exalted nature of his perfections, is the object, to which our highest affections can properly attach themselves. If God is not loved supremely, something else is, because the nature of love is such as to require some highest object. And if God is the centre, (an expression, which implies, that our love is essentially, if not absolutely proportioned to its object,) then he is so in such a degree and manner, that all other beings are regarded and loved in their relation to him. Being not only the highest or supreme object, but being so beyond any and all comparison with other objects, he is properly the centre of centres. Consequently, receiving all our springs of action from him, as the great object of our affections, we shall regard objects, so far as we are capable of understanding their nature, just as he regards them; we shall love what he loves; hate what he hates; rejoice in what he rejoices in.

The moment we get into this great and true Centre, every thing else falls into the right position. We love ourselves, and we love other beings just as God would have us; for we can neither approve nor disapprove, neither love nor hate, except as we receive the spring of movement from the great source. In any other position of mind, the influence of self will be felt. But in this, as the mind operates in perfect coincidence with the will of God, a will which never deviates from perfect rectitude, it can give no countenance to selfishness, which is always at variance with rectitude. 

The life of God in the soul and the life of self in the soul are entirely inconsistent with each other. Where God exists, as the supreme object, self is, and must be cast out. Sensuality ceases. All our appetites, and all our propensities and affections of whatever degree will, in that case, be properly regulated. And the grace of sanctification or holiness will pervade the whole inner man.

—The Life of Faith, Part 2, Chapter 4.

 

A Selfish Being

If a man’s love centres in himself as the highest or supreme object of his affections, which it must do, if it does not centre in some other being, he is of course a selfish being; and as such he cannot be regarded as a truly holy being. If he thinks for himself, acts for himself, lives for himself, as he must do if he himself be the highest object of love, it must be sufficiently obvious without any comment upon it, that he cannot be otherwise than selfish, and cannot be otherwise than unholy. 

All such love, which thus centres in ourselves, is wrong, and is not acceptable in the sight of God; because it is not proportioned to its object, and is inordinate.

It may be proper to add this remark here, that pure love or holy love is that love which is precisely appropriate to the object; being such, neither more nor less, as the object is precisely entitled to, so far as we are capable of understanding what the object is.

If our love centres in creatures inferior to God, and becomes supreme in them, it is necessarily selfish; as really so, though not so obviously so at first sight, as if it centered in ourselves. It is entirely obvious, that the motive for loving inferior beings in the highest degree, for loving them supremely, cannot be founded in their own characters. It is not a love, to which they are justly entitled. It is not right to love them in this manner. 

And if the motive of this love is not founded in their characters, and is, therefore, not based upon moral rectitude, it is founded, and must necessarily be so, in some selfish modification of our own feelings. The only active principle in man, which is antagonistical to rectitude, is selfishness in some of its modifications. Whenever a moral being deviates from the right, in any and all cases where he has a perception of what the right is, it will be found to be through the influence of self. In all such cases, if a being is loved otherwise than it ought to be, and is therefore loved wrongly, selfishness will always be found at the bottom. It will sometimes be very secret and almost hidden; but it will always be there.

— The Life of Faith, Part 2, Chapter 4.