Biblical Essays
SELF-DENIAL
“If only we exercise a little self-denial every day, we shall get on to heaven very comfortably.” What a volume of wholesome practical truth in this brief utterance. The path of self-denial is the Christian’s true path. “If any man,” says Christ, “will come after Me, let him deny himself and take up his cross daily, and follow Me” (Luke 9:23). It is not, “let him deny certain things belonging to himself.” No, he must “deny himself,” and this is a “daily” thing. Each morning, as we rise and enter afresh upon the pathway of daily life, we have the same grand and all-important work before us – to deny self.
This hateful self meets us at every step, for, although we know through grace that “our old man is crucified” – is dead and buried out of God’s sight – still, this is only in regard to our standing in Christ, according to God’s view of us. We know that self has to be denied, judged and subjugated every day, every hour, and every moment. The principle of our standing must be worked out in practice. God sees us perfect in Christ, but we are not perfect in the flesh and the flesh is in us, so it must be denied and kept by the power of the Spirit.
Be it remembered, it is not merely in its grossness that self must be denied, but in its refinement. In other words, not merely in its low habits but in its cultivated tastes; not merely in its roughness and rudeness but in its most polished and elegant forms. This is not always seen. Like Saul, it often happens that we spare that which we consider “the best” and bring the edge of the sword to bear only on “the vile and refuse.” This will never do. It is self that must be denied. Yes, self in all its length and breadth; not merely some branches, but the great parent stem; not merely some accessories of nature, but nature itself. It is a comparatively easy matter to deny certain things pertaining to self, while all the time self is pampered and gratified. We may deny our appetite to feed religious pride; we may starve ourselves to minister to our love of money; we may wear shabby clothes while priding self in sumptuous furniture and splendid equipment. Hence, the need of being reminded that we must deny self.
Who can sum up all that is contained in this weighty word, self-denial? Self-acts are everywhere at all times and under all circumstances – in the closet, in the family, in the shop, in the car, in the street, in the airplane, in the hotel, in the café, etc., everywhere. It has its tastes, habits, prejudices, likes and dislikes. It must be denied in all these. We may frequently detect ourselves liking our own image. This must be denied with uncommon decision.
In matters of religion, we like those who suit us, who agree and sympathize with us, who admire our opinions or mode of propounding them. All this must be brought under the sharp edge of the knife of self-denial. If not, we may find ourselves despising some dear and honored Christian simply because of something that does not suit us. On the other hand, we may praise to the skies some hollow, worthless character, just because of some feature we like. Indeed, of all the ten thousand shapes that self assumes, there is not one more hateful than that of religion. Clad in this garb it will make itself the center of a clique, confine its affections within that narrow enclosure, calling it Christian. From this contracted circle, it will diligently expel everyone who happens to have a single disagreeable point or angle. It will obstinately refuse to accommodate itself to the scruples and infirmities of others; not yielding to them a single hair’s breadth, while at the same time surrendering any amount of truth to hold fellowship with its own image. All this is terrible and should be most diligently guarded against.
A careful study of 1 Corinthians 8:10, reveals a precious lesson on the subject of self-denial. The heading of this entire section might be thus worded, “Any length in self-denial; not an inch in surrendering truth.” This should always be the Christian’s motto. If it is merely a question of self, surrender all; if it is a question of truth, surrender nothing. “If meat make my brother to offend, I will eat no flesh while the world standeth, lest I make my brother to offend” (1 Cor. 8:13). A truly noble resolution – may we have grace to carry it out.
Again, “Though I be free from all, yet have I made myself servant unto all, that I might gain the more . . . I am made all things to all, that I might by all means save some” (1 Cor. 9:19-22). “Let no man seek his own” – the very thing we are so ready to seek. “But every man another’s wealth” – the very last thing we feel disposed to do.
It is important and needful to observe that when the apostle declares that he was “made all things to all,” it was entirely a matter of self-denial and not of self-indulgence. He neither indulged himself nor surrendered a single iota of the truth of God, but made himself servant to all for their good and God’s glory. This is our model – may the Lord endow us with grace to imitate it. We are called to surrender not only our points and angles, prejudices and preferences, but also our personal rights for the profit of others. This is the Christian’s daily business, and it is as he is enabled to discharge it that he will walk in the footsteps of Jesus and “get on comfortably to heaven.”
Self-judgment
There are few exercises more valuable or healthful for the Christian than self-judgment. We do not mean by this the unhappy practice of looking in upon oneself for evidences of life and security in Christ. This is terrible work with which to be associated. To be looking at a worthless self instead of at a risen Christ, is as deplorable an occupation as we can conceive. The idea that many Christians seem to entertain in reference to what is called self-examination, is truly depressing. They look on it as an exercise that may end in discovering that they are not Christians at all. What terrible work.
No doubt it is well for those who have been building on a sandy foundation, to have their eyes opened to see the dangerous delusion. It is well for those who have been complacently wrapping themselves up in pharisaic robes, to have those robes stripped off. It is well for those who have been sleeping in a house on fire, to be roused from their slumbers. It is well for such as have been walking blindfold to the brink of some frightful precipice, to have the bandage removed from their eyes so they may see their danger, and retreat. No intelligent and well-regulated mind would think of calling in question the rightness of all this. But fully admitting the above, the question of true self-judgment remains wholly untouched.
The Christian’s evidences are not to be found in his ruined self, but in God’s risen Christ. The more he can get done with the former and occupied with the latter, the happier and holier he will be. The Christian judges himself, judges his habits; judges his thoughts, words and actions, because he believes he is a Christian, not because he doubts it. If he doubts, he is not fit to judge anything. It is as knowing and enjoying the eternal stability of God’s grace, the divine effectiveness of the blood of Jesus, the all-prevailing power of His advocacy, the unalterable authority of the Word, and the divine security of the feeblest of Christ’s sheep. It is as entering by the teaching of God the Holy Spirit into these priceless realities, that the Christian judges himself. The human idea of self-examination is founded on unbelief. The divine idea of self-judgment is founded on confidence.
But, let us never forget that we are called to judge self. If we lose sight of this, nature will soon get ahead of us and we will make sorry work of it. The most devoted Christians have a mass of things that need to be judged, and if those things are not habitually judged, they will result in abundance of bitter work. If there is irritability or levity, pride or vanity, natural indolence or natural impulsiveness – whatever there is that belongs to our fallen nature, we must as Christians judge and subdue that thing. That which is abidingly judged will never get on the conscience. Self-judgment keeps all our matters right and square, but if nature is not judged, there is no way of knowing how, when or where it may break out, producing keen anguish of soul and bringing gross dishonor on the Lord's name. The most grievous cases of failure and declension may be traced to the neglect of self-judgment in little things.
There are three distinct stages of judgment: self-judgment, church judgment and divine judgment. If a child of God judges self, the assembly is kept clear. If a Christian fails to do so, evil will break out in some shape or form and then the assembly is involved. If the assembly fails to judge the evil, then God must deal with the assembly. If Achan had judged the covetous thought, the assembly of Israel would not have become involved (Joshua 7). If the Corinthians had judged themselves in secret, the Lord would not to have had to judge the assembly in public (1 Cor. 11).
All this is deeply practical and soul-subduing. May all Christian’s learn to walk in the cloudless sunshine of His favor, in the holy enjoyment of their relationship and in the habitual exercise of a spirit of self-judgment.
Self-emptiness
The fullness of God always waits on an empty vessel. This is a grand practical truth, very easily stated, but involving a great deal more than one might imagine. The entire Book of God illustrates this truth. The history of the people of God illustrates it; the experience of each believer illustrates it. Whether we study the Book of God or the ways of God – His ways with all and His ways with each – we have this precious truth that “the fullness of God ever waits upon an empty vessel.”
This holds good with respect to the sinner in his first coming to Christ, and it holds good with respect to the believer at every stage of his career, from the starting post to the goal.
First, regarding the sinner in his first coming to Christ, this waiting on an empty vessel is the fullness of God in redeeming love and pardoning mercy. The real matter is to get the sinner to take the place of an empty vessel. Once there, the whole question is settled. But what exercise, what struggling, what toil, what conflict, what fruitless efforts, what ups and downs, what vows and resolutions in thousands of cases before the sinner is really brought to take the place of an empty vessel and be filled with God’s salvation. How marvelously difficult it is to get the poor legal heart emptied of its legality, that it may be filled with Christ. It will have something of its own to lean on and cling to. Here lies the root of the difficulty. We can never “draw water from the wells of salvation” until we come there with empty vessels.
This is difficult work. Many spend years of legal effort before they reach the moral point of self-emptiness, even in its reference to the simple question of righteousness before God. When once they have reached that point, the matter is found to be so simple that the wonder is how they could have spent so long in getting hold of it and why they had never got hold of it before. There is never any difficulty found when the sinner really takes the ground of self-emptiness. The question, “Who shall deliver me?” is sure to be followed by the reply, “I thank God through Jesus Christ our Lord” (Rom. 7).
It will always be found that the more completely the sinner is emptied of self, the more settled his peace will be. If self and its doings, its feelings and its reasonings be not emptied out, then afterwards will surely be doubts and fears, ups and downs, wavering and fluctuation, seasons of darkness and cloudiness. Hence, to know and enjoy “the fullness of the Godhead bodily,” it is vitally important to seek to eliminate self. It is the one who is able to truthfully and experimentally say, “I’m a poor sinner and nothing at all,” who can adopt as his own that additional line, “But Jesus Christ is my all in all.”
It is always thus: A full Christ is for an empty sinner, and an empty sinner for a full Christ. They are morally fitted to each other. The more we experience the emptiness, the more we will enjoy the fullness. So long as we are full of self-confidence, so long as we are full of trust in our own morality, benevolence, amiability, religiousness, and righteousness, we have no room for Christ. All these things must be thrown overboard before a full Christ can be apprehended. It cannot be partly self and partly Christ. It must be either one or the other. One reason why so many are tossed up and down “in dark uncertainty” is because they still cling to some little bit of self. It may be a very little bit. They may not be trusting in works of righteousness they have done, but still there is something of self-retained in which they trust. It may be the smallest possible atom of the creature – its state, its feelings, its mode of appropriating, its experiences, something or other of the creature kept in, which keeps Christ out. It must be so, for if a full Christ were received, a full peace would be enjoyed. If a full peace be not enjoyed, it is only because a full Christ has not been received. This makes the matter as simple as possible.
Do we fully understand this? As an empty sinner, have we come to Christ to be filled with His fullness, to be satisfied with His all-sufficiency, to find the solid rest of our heart and conscience in Him alone? Are we fully satisfied with Christ? We earnestly pray that each of us get this point settled. Is Christ enough for your heart, enough for your conscience, and enough for your whole moral being? Make God help each of us make earnest, real, hearty work of it now. Are we resting wholly in Christ? Which is it, Christ alone or Christ and something else? Are we, in some secret chamber of the heart, hiding a little fragment of legality – some little atom of creature-confidence or element of self-righteousness? If so, we cannot enjoy true Gospel-peace. It simply cannot be. Gospel-peace is the result of receiving a full Christ into a heart that has learned its own emptiness. Christ is our peace. True peace is not a mere feeling in the mind. It is found in a divine, living, real Person, even Christ Himself, who having made peace by the blood of His cross, has become our peace in the presence of God. As long as we are in Christ, this peace can never be disturbed, because He who is our peace is “the same, yesterday, today and forever” (Heb. 13). Were it a mere feeling in the mind, it would prove as variable as the mercury in a barometer. If we are occupied with our feelings, we are not self-emptied. As a consequence, we cannot know the joy and peace flowing from being occupied only with Christ, for the fullness of God always waits on an empty vessel.
Secondly, let us briefly consider how it applies to a believer at stages of his career. This is a deeply practical part of our subject. At times, we have little idea of how full we are of self and the world. Hence, in one way or another, we have to be emptied from vessel to vessel. Like Jacob of old, we struggle hard and hold fast our confidence in the flesh, until at length the source of our strength is dried up and the ground of our confidence swept from under us. Then we are constrained to cry out, “Other refuge have I none, Clings my helpless soul to Thee.”
There can be no greater barrier to our peace and habitual enjoyment of God than being filled with self-confidence. We must be emptied and humbled. God cannot divide the house with the creature. It is vain to expect it. Jacob had the hollow of his thigh touched so he might learn to lean on God. The halting Jacob found his sure resource in Jehovah who only empties us of nature so that we may be filled with Him. He knows that as much as we are filled with self-confidence or creature-confidence, we are robbed of the deep blessedness of being filled with His fullness. Hence, in His grace and mercy, He empties us out, so that we may learn to cling to Him in child-like confidence. This is our only place of strength, victory and repose.
Someone has said, “I was never truly happy until I ceased to wish for greatness.” This is a fine moral truth. When we cease to wish to be anything, when we are content to be nothing, then we taste what true greatness, true elevation, true happiness, and true peace really is. The restless desire to be something or somebody is destructive to the soul’s tranquility. The proud heart and ambitious spirit may pronounce this a poor, low, mean, contemptible sentiment, but when we have taken our place in the classroom of the school of Christ and have begun to learn of Him who was meek and lowly in heart; when we have drunk into the spirit of Him who made Himself of no reputation; we then see things differently. “He that humbleth himself shall be exalted.” The way to get up is to go down. This is the doctrine of Christ, the doctrine He stated and inscribed on His life. “And Jesus called a little child unto Him and set him in the midst of them, and said, Verily, I say unto you, except ye be converted and become as little children, ye shall not enter into the kingdom of heaven. Whosoever, therefore, shall humble himself as this little child, the same is greatest in the kingdom of heaven” (Matt. 18:2-4).
This is the doctrine of heaven – the doctrine of self-emptiness. Self-seeking and self-exaltation are so totally unlike our Lord’s way.
In the person of John the Baptist, we have a true example of one who, in some degree, entered into the real meaning of self-emptiness. The Jews sent priests and Levites from Jerusalem to ask him, “Who art thou? What sayest thou of thyself?” His reply was an example of being self-emptied. He said he was just “a voice.” This was taking his true place. “A voice” was not much to glory in. He did not say, “I am one crying in the wilderness.” No; he was merely “the voice of One.” He had no ambition to be anything more. This was self-emptiness. Observe the result. He found his engrossing object in Christ. “Again the next day after John stood, and two of his disciples; and looking upon Jesus as he walked, he saith, Behold the Lamb of God!” What was all this but the fullness of God waiting on an empty vessel. John was nothing, Christ was all. Hence, when John’s disciples left his side to follow Jesus, we may be assured that no murmuring word, no accent of disappointed ambition or wounded pride escaped his lips. There is no envy or jealousy in a self-emptied heart. There is nothing touchy, nothing tenacious about one who has learned to take his true place. Had John been seeking his own things, he might have complained when he saw himself abandoned. But when one has found a satisfying object in “the Lamb of God,” he does not care much about losing a few disciples.
In John 3, we have a further exhibition of the Baptist’s self-emptied spirit. “And they came unto John and said unto him, Rabbi, He that was with thee beyond Jordan, to whom thou barest witness, behold, the same baptizeth and all come to Him.”
Here was a communication calculated to draw out the envy and jealousy of the poor human heart. But mark the noble reply of the Baptist: “A man can receive nothing except it be given him from heaven . . . He must increase, but I must decrease. He that cometh from above is above all; he that is of the earth is earthly and speaketh of the earth: He that cometh from heaven is above all.”
What a precious testimony to his own utter nothingness, and to Christ’s fullness, glory and peerless excellence. “A voice” was “nothing.” Christ was high above all.
Oh, how we need a self-emptied spirit, “a heart free from itself,” a mind delivered from all anxiety about ours own things. May we be more delivered from self in all its detestable workings. Then the Master can use us, own us and bless us. Hearken to His testimony to John; the one who said of himself that he was nothing but a voice: “Verily I say unto you, among them that are born of women there hath not risen a greater than John the Baptist” (Matt. 11:11) – how much better to hear this from the Master than from the servant. John said, “I am a voice.” Christ said he was the greatest of prophets. Simon Magus “gave out that himself was some great one.” Such is the way of the world – the manner of man. John the Baptist, the greatest of prophets, gave out that he was nothing and that Christ was “above all.” What a contrast.
May we be kept lowly and self-emptied so that we may continually be filled with Christ. This is true rest, true blessedness. May the language of our hearts and the distinct utterance of our lives always be, “Behold the Lamb of God.”
Self-control
The word “temperance” in 2 Peter 1:6 (KJV) means deal more than what is usually understood by that term. It is customary to apply the word “temperance” to a habit of moderation in reference to eating and drinking. No doubt it involves this, but it involves much more. Indeed, the Greek word used by the inspired apostle may be rendered “self-control” (as in NASB). It gives the idea of one who has self habitually well reined in.
This is a rare and admirable grace, diffusing its hallowed influence over one’s entire course, character and conduct. It not only bears directly on one or two or twenty selfish habits, but on self in all the length and breadth of that comprehensive and odious term. Many, who would look with proud disdain on a glutton or a drunkard, may themselves fail every hour in exhibiting the grace of self-control. True, gluttony and drunkenness should be ranked with the vilest and most demoralizing forms of selfishness. They should be regarded as among the bitterest of clusters growing on that widespread tree. But self is a tree and not a mere branch of a tree or a cluster on a branch, and we should not only judge self when it works, but control it so that it may not work.
Some may ask, “How can we control self?” The answer is blessedly simple: “I can do all things through Christ that strengtheneth me” (Phil. 4). Have we not received salvation in Christ? And what does this include? Is it mere deliverance from the wrath to come? Is it merely the pardon of our sins and the assurance of exemption from the lake that burns with fire and brimstone? It is far more than these, precious and priceless though they be. In a word, “salvation” implies a full and hearty acceptance and obedience of Christ as our “wisdom” to guide us out of folly’s dark and devious paths, into paths of heavenly light and peace; as our “righteousness” to justify us in the sight of a holy God; as our “sanctification” to make us practically holy in all my ways; and as our “redemption” to give us final deliverance from all the power of death, and entrance into the eternal fields of glory.
Hence, it is evident that “self-control” is included in the salvation we have in Christ. It is a result of that practical sanctification with which divine grace has endowed us. We should carefully guard against the habit of taking a narrow view of salvation, seeking rather to enter into all its fullness. It is a word that stretches from everlasting to everlasting and, in its mighty sweep, takes in all the practical details of daily life. We have no right to talk of salvation of our soul in the future while refusing to know and exhibit its practical bearing on our conduct in the present. Not only are we saved from the guilt and condemnation of sin, but as fully from the power, practice and love of it. These things should never be separated, nor will they be by anyone who has been divinely taught the meaning, extent and power of that precious word “salvation.”
In presenting a few practical thoughts on the subject of self-control, we offer the following three divisions: the thoughts, the tongue and the temper. We hope and pray that we are addressing faithful believers in Christ. If not, we plead that you will put your whole trust in Jesus Christ and obey His Gospel, so that you can be as safe as He is Himself. We now proceed to deal with the practical and much-needed subject of self-control.
First, we briefly consider the habitual government of our thoughts. There are few Christians who have not suffered from evil thoughts – those troublesome intruders on our privacy, those constant disturbers of mental repose that so frequently darken the atmosphere around us, preventing us from getting a full, clear view upward into the bright heaven above. The Psalmist could say, “I hate vain thoughts.” No wonder. They are truly hateful and should be judged, condemned and expelled. In speaking of the subject of evil thoughts, someone has said, “I cannot prevent birds from flying over me, but I can prevent them from lighting on me.” In like manner, we cannot prevent evil thoughts being suggested to the mind, but we can refuse them a lodging therein.
But can we control our thoughts? No; no more than we could blot out our sins or create a world. What are we to do? Look to Christ. This is the true secret of self-control. He can keep us, not only from the lodging, but also from the suggestion of the evil thoughts. We could no more prevent the one than the other. He can prevent both. He can keep the vile intruders from not only from getting in, but from knocking at the door. When the divine life is in energy – when the current of spiritual thought and feeling is deep and rapid, when the heart’s affections are intensely occupied with the Person of Christ, vain thoughts do not trouble us. It is only when spiritual indolence creeps over us that wile and horrible evil thoughts come in on us. Then our only resource is to look straight to Jesus. We might as well attempt to cope with the marshaled hosts of hell, as with a horde of evil thoughts. Our refuge is in Christ. He is our sanctification. We can do all things through Him. We have just to bring the name of Jesus to bear on the flood of evil thoughts, and He will most assuredly give full and immediate deliverance.
However, the more excellent way is to be preserved from the suggestions of evil by the power of pre-occupation with good. When the channel of thought is decidedly upward, when deep and well formed, free from all curves and indentations, then the current of imagination and feeling, as it gushes up from the deep fountains of the soul, will naturally flow onward in the bed of that channel. This is unquestionably the more excellent way. May we prove it in our own experience. “Finally, brethren, whatsoever things are true, whatsoever things are honest, whatsoever things are just, whatsoever things are lovely, whatsoever things are of good report, if there be any virtue, and if there be any praise, think on these things. Those things which ye have both learned and received and heard and seen in me, do; and the God of peace shall be with you” (Phil. 4:8-9).
When the heart is fully engrossed with Christ, the living embodiment of all those things enumerated in verse 8, we enjoy profound peace, unruffled by evil thoughts. This is true self-control.
Secondly, let us consider the tongue, that influential member so fruitful in good, so fruitful in evil – the instrument whereby we can either give forth accents of soft and soothing sympathy or words of bitter sarcasm and burning indignation. How deeply important is the grace of self-control in its application to such a member. Mischief, which years cannot repair, may, in a moment, be done by the tongue. Words which we would demand the world to recall may be uttered by the tongue in an unguarded moment. Hear what the inspired apostle says on this subject: “If any man offend not in word, the same is a perfect man and able also to bridle the whole body. Behold, we put bits in the horses’ mouths, that they may obey us; and we turn about their whole body. Behold also the ships, which though they be so great and are driven of fierce winds, yet are they turned about with a very small helm, whithersoever the governor listeth. Even so the tongue is a little member and boasteth great things. Behold, how great a matter a little fire kindleth! And the tongue is a fire, a world of iniquity: so is the tongue among our members, that it defileth the whole body and setteth on fire the course of nature; and it is set on fire of hell. For every kind of beasts, and of birds, and of serpents, and of things in the sea is tamed, and hath been tamed of mankind. But the tongue can no man tame; it is an unruly evil, full of deadly poison” (James 3:2-8).
Who then can control the tongue? “No man” can do it, but Christ can, and we need only look to Him in simple faith. This implies both the sense of our own utter helplessness and His all-sufficiency. It is utterly impossible for us to control the tongue. We might as well attempt to stem the ocean’s tide, the mountain torrent or the Alpine avalanche. When suffering under the effects of some blunder of the tongue, how often have we resolved to command that unruly member somewhat better next time, but our resolution proved to be like the morning cloud that passes away, and in the matter of self-control we had only to retire and weep over our lamentable failure. Why was this? Simply because we undertook the matter in our own strength or at least without a sufficiently deep consciousness of our own weakness. This is the cause of constant failure. We must cling to Christ as a babe clings to its mother. Not that our clinging is of any value; still we must cling. Only in this way can we ever hope to successfully bridle the tongue. Let us remember at all times the solemn searching words of the same apostle James, “If any one [man, woman or child] among you seem to be religious and bridleth not his tongue, but deceiveth his own heart, this man’s religion is vain” (James 1:26; emphasis added). These are wholesome words for a day like the present when there are so many unruly tongues. May we have grace to attend to these words; may their holy influence appear in our ways.
The third point to be considered is the temper, which is intimately connected with both the tongue and the thoughts. Indeed, all three are closely linked. When the spring of thought is spiritual and the current heavenly, the tongue is only the active agent for good and the temper is calm and unruffled. Christ dwelling in the heart by faith regulates everything. Without Him, all is worse than worthless. We may possess and exhibit the self-command of a Socrates and all the while be wholly ignorant of the “self-control” of 2 Peter 1:6. The latter is founded on “faith;” the former on philosophy – two totally different things. We must remember that the word is “Add to your faith.” This puts faith first as the only link to connect the heart with Christ, the living source of all power. Having Christ and abiding in Him, we are enabled to add “courage, knowledge, self-control, patience, godliness, brotherly kindness, love.” Such are the precious fruits that flow from abiding in Christ. But we can no more control our temper than our tongue or our thoughts, and if we set about to do so, we will surely break down. A mere philosopher without Christ may exhibit more self-control pertaining to tongue and temper than a Christian, if he abides not in Christ. This should not be and would not be if the Christian simply looked to Jesus. It is when we fail in this that the enemy gains the advantage. The philosopher without Christ seems to succeed in the great business of self-control, except that he may be effectively blinded pertaining to the truth of his condition and heading headlong to eternal ruin. But Satan delights to make a Christian stumble and fall, so that he may blaspheme the precious name of Christ.
Let us remember these things; looking to Christ to control our thoughts, our tongue and our temper. Let us “give all diligence.” Let us think how much is involved. “If these things be in you and abound, they make you that ye shall neither be barren nor unfruitful in the knowledge of our Lord Jesus Christ. But he that lacketh these things is blind and cannot see afar off, and hath forgotten that he was purged from his old sins.”
This is deeply solemn. How easy it is to drop into a state of spiritual blindness and forgetfulness. No amount of doctrinal or traditional knowledge will preserve the soul from this awful condition. Nothing but “the knowledge of our Lord Jesus Christ” will avail. This knowledge is increased in the soul by “giving all diligence to add to our faith” the various graces to which the apostle refers in the above eminently practical and soul-stirring passage. “Wherefore the rather, brethren, give diligence to make your calling and election sure: for if ye do these things ye shall never fall: for so an entrance shall be ministered unto you abundantly into the everlasting kingdom of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.”
