Though there is no righteousness in any man, yet in every man there is a proneness to truth in some fancied merit. Strange that it should be so, but the most reprobate characters have yet some virtue as they imagine, upon which they rely. You will find the most abandoned drunkard pride himself that he is not a swearer. You will find the blaspheming drunkard pride himself that at least he is honest. You will find men with no other virtue in the world, exalt what they imagine to be a virtue – the fact that they do not profess to have any; and they think themselves to be extremely excellent, because they have honesty or rather impudence enough to confess that they are utterly vile.

Somehow the human mind clings to human merit; it always will hold to it, and when you take away everything upon which you think it could rely, in less than a moment it fashions some other ground for confidence out of itself. Human nature with regard to its own merit, is like the spider, it bears its support in its own bowels, and it seems as if it would keep spinning on to all eternity. You may brush down one web, but it soon forms another, you may take the thread from one place, and you will find it clinging to your finger, and when you seek to brush it down with one hand you find it clinging to the other. It is hard to get rid of; it is ever ready to spin its web and bind itself to some false ground of trust.

Adapted from “Free Grace,” as published in The Sermons of Charles Spurgeon: Sermons 201-400 (Vol 2 of 4) (Kindle Edition)

David and Job often complained that God had left them, had become their enemy, regarded not their prayers, and took no heed to deliver them. And yet it is impossible that God shall either leave his chosen, or that he shall despise the humble petitions of such as do incall his support. But such complaints are the voices of the flesh, wherewith God is not offended so as to reject his elect, but pardons them among their innumerable infirmities and sins.

And therefore, dearly beloved, despair you not, albeit the flesh sometimes bursts out in heavy complaints, as it were, against God. You are not more perfect than were David and Job; and you cannot be so perfect as Christ himself was, who, upon the cross, cried, “My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?” (Matt. 27:46).

Consider, dear mother, how lamentable and horrible were those words to the only Son of God. And David, in the 88th psalm (which, for the better understanding, I desire you to read) complains upon God, that night and day he had cried, and yet he was not delivered; “But,” says he, “my soul is filled with dolour; I am as a man without strength. I am like unto those that are gone down into the pit, of whom thou hast no more mind; like unto those that are cut off by thy hand. Thou hast put me in a deep dungeon. All thy wrath lieth upon me. Why leavest thou me, Lord? Why hidest thou thy face so far from me? Thou hast removed all my friends from me. Thou hast made me odious unto them” (Ps. 88:3-8).

And thus he ends his psalm and complaint, without mention of any comfort received. And Job, in diverse places of his book, makes even the like complaints; sometimes saying that God was his enemy, and had set him, as it were, a mark to shoot at; and, therefore, that his soul desires actual destruction (cf. Job 16:13).

John Knox, An Exposition of the Sixth Psalm

The holiest of Christians, and those who understand best the gospel of Christ, find in themselves a constant inclination to look to the power of the creature, instead of looking to the power of God and the power of God alone. Over and over again, Holy Scripture has to remind us of that which we never ought to forget, that salvation is God’s work from first to last, and is not of man, neither by man. But so it is, this old error – that we are to save ourselves, or that we are to do something in the matter of salvation – always rises up, and we find ourselves continually tempted by it to step aside from the simplicity of our faith in the power of the Lord our God.

We, in the matter of salvation, are apt to think that God is tarrying long in the fulfillment of His promise, and we set to work ourselves to do something, and what do we do? Sink ourselves deeper in the mire and pile up for ourselves a store of future troubles and trials. Do we not read that it grieved Abraham’s heart to send Ishmael away? Ah! and many a Christian has been grieved by those works of nature which he accomplished with the design of helping the God of grace. Oh, beloved, we shall find ourselves very frequently attempting the foolish task of assisting Omnipotence and teaching the Omniscient One.

Instead of looking to grace alone to sanctify us, we find ourselves adopting Philosophic rules and principles which we think will effect the Divine work. We shall but mar it; we shall bring grief into our own spirits. But if, instead thereof, we in every work look up to the God of our salvation for help, and strength, and grace, and succor, then our work will proceed to our own joy and comfort, and to God’s glory. That error, then, I say is in our bone, and will always dwell with us, and hence it is that the words of the text are put as an antidote against that error. It is distinctly stated in our text that salvation is of God. “Not for your sakes do I this.” He says nothing about what we have done or can do. All the preceding and all the succeeding verses speak of what God does. “I will take you from among the heathen.” “I will sprinkle clean water upon you.” “I will give you a new heart.” “I will put my Spirit within you.” It is all of God: therefore, again recall to our recollection this doctrine, and give up all dependence upon our own strength and power.

Adapted from “Free Grace,” as published in The Sermons of Charles Spurgeon: Sermons 201-400 (Vol 2 of 4) (Kindle Edition)

Church history buffs (and a number of us who aren’t but) know that October 31st is Reformation Day— it’s the anniversary of the day when Martin Luther posted his 95 Theses on the Wittenberg door and (albeit inadvertently) kicked off the Protestant Reformation. Among the many positive fruits of the Reformation is a renewed emphasis on justification by faith—that is, we are saved by God’s grace alone, not by any works we carry out.

In the book of Galatians, the Apostle Paul rails against the creep of justification by works into the church. He knows that there is no hope of standing before God by our own merit and yet a works-based righteousness has bewitched the Galatian churches. They’ve been captured by the idea that the Law brings freedom. But, Paul argues, freedom comes not from works of the Law but from the gospel, a matter Luther expounds upon in his commentary on Galatians 3:5:

This argument based on the experience of the Galatians, pleased the Apostle so well that he returns to it after he had warned them against their twofold danger. You have not only received the Spirit by the preaching of the Gospel, but by the same Gospel you were enabled to do things. What things? we ask. Miracles. At least the Galatians had manifested the striking fruits of faith which true disciples of the Gospel manifested in those days. On one occasion the Apostle wrote: The kingdom of God is not in word, but in power. This power revealed itself not only in readiness of speech, but in demonstrations of the supernatural ability of the Holy Spirit.

When the Gospel is preached unto faith, hope, love, and patience, God gives His wonder-working Spirit. Paul reminds the Galatians of this. God had not only brought you to faith by my preaching. He had also sanctified you to bring forth the fruits of faith. And one of the fruits of your faith was that you loved me so devotedly that you were willing to pluck out your eyes for me. To love a fellow-man so devotedly as to be ready to bestow upon him money, goods, eyes in order to secure his salvation, such love is the fruit of the Holy Spirit.

These products of the Spirit you enjoyed before the false apostles misled you, the Apostle reminds the Galatians. But you haven’t manifested any of these fruits under the regime of the Law. How does it come that you do not grow the same fruits now? You no longer teach truly; you do not believe boldly; you do not live well; you do not work hard; you do not bear things patiently. Who has spoiled you that you no longer love me; that you are not now ready to pluck out your eyes for me? What has happened to cool your personal interest in me?

The same thing happened to me. When I began to proclaim the Gospel, there were many, very many who were delighted with our doctrine and had a good opinion of us. And now? Now they have succeeded in making us so odious to those who formerly loved us that they now hate us like poison.

Paul argues: Your experience ought to teach you that the fruits of love do not grow on the stump of the Law. You had not virtue prior to the preaching of the Gospel and you have no virtues now under the regime of the false apostles.

We, too, may say to those who misname themselves evangelical and flout their new-found liberty: Have you put down the tyranny of the Pope and obtained liberty in Christ through the Anabaptists and other fanatics? Or have you obtained your freedom from us who preach faith in Christ Jesus? If there is any honesty left in them they will have to confess that their freedom dates from the preaching of the Gospel.

Martin Luther, Commentary on Galatians, p. 78 (Kindle Edition)

What can hinder your espousals with the dear and ever-blessed Lamb of God? I know but of one thing, that dreadful sin of unbelief. But this is my comfort, Jesus died for unbelief, as well as for other sins and has promised to send down the Holy Spirit to convince the world of this sin in particular. ‘If I go not away, the Comforter will not come unto you. But if I go away, I will send the Comforter and he will convince the world of sin.’ What sin? Of unbelief: ‘because they believe not on me.’

George Whitefield, “Christ the Believer’s Husband,” The Sermons of George Whitefield (Kindle Edition)

To believe in God means that we must believe implicitly in the promises of God to those who do thus follow him and give themselves to him. I imagine that this was the thing that our Lord was concerned to impress upon the minds of those troubled disciples. “Let not your heart be troubled . . . believe in God.” Why? Well, think of the promises that God has made to those who do believe in him. Read the Psalms, read the prophets, read God’s gracious promises throughout the Bible. Our Lord had already reminded these disciples of some of them. He said to them, “Fear not them which kill the body, but are not able to kill the soul: but rather fear him which is able to destroy both soul and body in hell” (Matthew 10:28). “Do not be afraid of men,” he said, “there is a limit to what they can do to you. But fear God.”

Martyn Lloyd-Jones, Let Not Your Heart Be Troubled (Kindle Edition)

Did it ever prove faithful or satisfactory to any of its votaries? Has not Solomon reckoned up the sum total of worldly happiness? And what does it amount to? ‘Vanity, vanity, saith the preacher, all is vanity,’ nay he adds, ‘and vexation of spirit.’ And has not a greater than Solomon informed us, that a man’s life, the happiness of a man’s life, doth not consist in the things which he possesseth? Besides, ‘know ye not that the friendship of this world is enmity with God; so that whosoever will be a friend to the world (to the corrupt customs and vices of it) is an enemy of God?’

What better reasons can you give for being wedded to your lusts? Might not the poor slaves in the galleys as reasonably be wedded to their chains? For do not your lusts fetter down your souls from God? Do they not lord it and have they not dominion over you? Do not they say, Come and ye come; Go and ye go; Do this and ye do it? And is not he or she that liveth in pleasure, dead, whilst he liveth?

And above all, how can ye bear the thoughts of being wedded to the devil, as every natural man is. For thus speaks the scripture, ‘He now ruleth in the children of disobedience.’ And how can ye bear to be ruled by one, who is such a professed open enemy to the most high and holy God? Who will make a drudge of you, whilst you live and be your companion in endless and extreme torment, after you are dead? For thus will our Lord say to those on the left hand, ‘Depart from me, ye cursed, into everlasting fire, prepared for the devil and his angels.’

George Whitefield, “Christ the Believer’s Husband,” The Sermons of George Whitefield (Kindle Edition)

To the extent that we have all felt ourselves guilty of this charge of “limit[ing] the Holy One of Israel,” [Ps. 78:41] let us repent. Let us go back to God as soon as we can; let us confess and acknowledge the sin and the folly and the shame of it all, and then let us listen to what He will tell us. This is what He will tell you: “Open thy mouth wide, and I will fill it” (Ps. 81:10). That is what He wants us to do, not just to open it, but to open it wide. Let Him fill it. Open your heart to Him; believe the promises-take them literally as they are. Do what William Carey, the founder of modern missionary work, said: “Expect great things from God. Attempt great things for God.”

Martyn Lloyd-Jones, Seeking the Face of God: Nine Reflections on the Psalms

Before we are actually married or united to [Jesus] by faith or… before we assuredly can say, that ‘our Maker is our husband’, we must be made willing people in the day of God’s power, we must be sweetly and effectually persuaded by the Holy Spirit of God, that the glorious Emmanuel is willing to accept of us just as we are and also that we are willing to accept of him upon his own terms, yea, upon any terms.

And when once it comes to this, the spiritual marriage goes on apace and there is but one thing lacking to make it complete. And what is that? An actual union. This is absolutely necessary in every lawful marriage among men. There must be a joining of hands before witnesses, ere they can be deemed lawfully joined together. Some men indeed of corrupt minds, are apt to look upon this as a needless ceremony and think it sufficient to be married, as they term it, in the sight of God. But whence men get such divinity, I know not. I am positive, not from the Bible. For we there read that even at the first marriage in paradise, there was something of outward solemnity. God himself (if I may speak) being there the priest. For we are told, Gen. 2:22 that, after God had made the woman, ‘he brought her unto the man.’ And indeed, to lay aside all manner of outward ceremony in marriage, would be to turn the world into a den of brute beasts. Men would then take or forsake as many wives as they pleased and we should soon sink into as bad and brutal a state as those nations are amongst whom such practices are allowed and who are utterly destitute of the knowledge of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ.

George Whitefield, “Christ the Believer’s Husband,” The Sermons of George Whitefield (Kindle Edition)

There is a terribly wrong belief that is a kind of fatalism, very often a misunderstanding of the teaching of the sovereignty of God, a belief that says, “Oh, this is a time of declension. This is not a time to expect blessing either individually or for the church, so don’t ask for it. You must just wait until times will improve.” But that is a blatant contradiction of the teaching of the psalmists. At such times the psalmists pleaded with God to come back. They said, “Why are You like a stranger? Why don’t You come back?” And that is the inevitable attitude of a child. But the other view is sheer fatalism and has nothing to do with the teaching of Scripture.

Martyn Lloyd-Jones, Seeking the Face of God: Nine Reflections on the Psalms