Speak, Conscience! Will God Accept Such a Gift? Such a Little Piece of a Soul?

Carl Vilhelm Holsøe. Interior with a Cello.

Can that man be a believer, who is a lover of the world more than a lover of God? Art thou a believer who lovest not? Canst thou say thou lovest God, when the better part of thine heart is with the world? Will this be accepted when thou canst only say, Lord, I bring thee half mine heart; here ’tis divided, let the world I pray thee, have the first choice, and take thou all that the world leaves? give me leave first to mind my earthly things, and next to these, God shall be regarded! Speak, conscience—Will God accept such a gift? such a little piece of a soul, when the main is bestowed on another? Will God say, Surely this is my child, surely this is my servant, next to the world he loves me best of all?  Do we think he will? What saith the Scripture? “He that loveth father or mother more than me, is not worthy of me; he that loveth son or daughter more than me, is unworthy of me,” Matt. x. 37. Find, if you can, a more convincing argument of an unbeliever, than that of the Apostle—“A lover of pleasure more than a lover of God,” 2 Tim. iii. 4. 

He that loveth the world more than God, is none of his; that cannot be denied. And art thou not the man? Dost thou love God as thou lovest the word?—let thy life speak; what seekest thou? whom servest thou? where dost thou bestow thyself? in whom dost thou bless thyself? what is the chief pleasure and comfort of thy life? —Is God?—Is it God whom thou seekest, and servest, and blessest thyself in?  Does not thine heart know that thy mammon is the God whom thou servest? that thou lovest to be rich and to prosper in the world, more than ever thou lovest to be holy and righteous before God. 

Hath Christ ever said, be mine, and then stay, where thou art? List thy name under me for a disciple, and then go and serve the world still? be proud, be covetous, be sensual, be in all things as the men of this world are, only be my disciple?  

Is not the renouncing of the world included in our coming to Christ : doth not he that said to thee, come, first say, depart?  and is not thy coming to Christ, in the very nature of it, a departing from the world, thy choosing of him, a refusing of it?  when Christ and the world are offered to thy choice, canst thou choose both; must thou not necessarily take to the one, and let the other go?

Is thy lust, and thine appetite after more, as greedy and insatiable as ever? are thy love, and delight, and rest in what thou hast, as great as ever? is it so hard to get any thing out of thine hand for God, so that, that little which comes, must be wrung as so many drops of blood from thine heart? art thou so pinching and sparing, that scarce any without thine own belly is ever the better for thee, and hast thou yet renounced the world?

Is he a believer who hath absolutely chosen this world, and hath only conditionally chosen Christ? who will first seek his own things, and in the second place, the things of Christ? who will model his Christianity into a consistency with his carnal interests? is he a believer who will have both if it may be, Christ and this world too; but if he cannot have both, will let Christ go?  Is he a Christian that says, I’ll serve Christ though it cost me nothing, I’ll be for him when I have nothing else to do, he shall have all my spare hours, if that will content him?  is this to give Christ the pre-eminence, or is he a Christian, that will take in Christ to be an underling to the world?

And is not this all thy Christianity? thou sayest indeed, thou hast chosen Christ absolutely; God forbid that I should prefer any thing before Christ, that I should mind any thing more than Christ; I mind the world, ’tis true, and I ought so to do; but Christ hath my heart, and I would rather lose all that I have, than at last be found out of Christ. But consider; thou mayst best judge of thine heart by thy life; as I said before, so l demand of thee again, whither does the course of thy life mainly bend? what art thou doing all the year round? what proportion hath Christ of thy daily care and labour? speak truth; would not thine heart tell thee thou liest, if thou say thou art more earnestly and more consistantly caring for the things of Christ than of the world?

Thou knowest thou hast often neglected Christ for the world; thou knowest that thy businesses, or thy pleasures, or thy companions have often lost thee a prayer, or a sabbath, or sermon; thou wouldst have prayed oftener, or heard oftner, but thou couldst not have leisure: thou knowest it hath been too often thus: and consider if it be not commonly thus. How seldom is it that thou canst remember, that thou hast carried thyself as a Christian to thy loss, that thou hast followed Christ in any duties, when thou knewest it would have been more to thy profit, to have put Christ off to another time. Many a time have thy gains, or thy friends, or thy pleasures, lost thee thy conscience, but how often couldst thou ever say, My conscience hath lost me a friend, my conscience hath lost me a good bargain: Whatever Christ hath at any time called thee to, if thou couldst say, It is not for mine ease, it is not for my credit, it is not for my safety to hearken, hath not this been counted argument enough to hold thee back, and excuse sufficient to save thee from blame?

What eyes have ye, O ye sons of the earth, if you do not yet see?  what hearts have you, if you do not yet tremble? The Lord be merciful to me, if these things be so, what’s like to become of me? I have spun a fair thread; Oh I have coveted an evil covetousness, I have been busy in gathering dirt, and building my nest, and providing for my young, but whither is my soul taking her flight? if the rest of my days be as the days that are past, what remains but a fearful expectation of wrath and fiery indignation, which will devour me for ever? I have kindled a fire, and compassed myself about with sparks, and after I have walked awhile in the light of my fire, and of the sparks that I have kindled, this shall I have at the hand of the Most High, I shall lie down in sorrow.

Richard Alleine. The World Conquered.