Those which are needed for feeble Christians, to bring them into this blessed state of rightly believing.
As much as it lies in us, we must labor to pull away all those carnal outward stays that the soul leans upon, and all other like succors, and whatever contentment it is which a poor sinner resorts to as to his refuge for relief and help. So that, when all these are taken from us, we may be forced to go for succor there, where the right succor is to be had. It is a natural thing for us all, even from our first parents, to desire to have the staff in our own hands, and to be able to supply ourselves with all necessaries, without being beholden to others, or to any.
Now, therefore, the way to make the soul lean upon Christ, is to pluck away all those deceiving props. The last thing we fly to is the promise. If we could find good anywhere else than in Christ, we would never go to him for it. God hears last from us. And therefore, here we should do with ourselves, as the enemy does with a besieged city, when he would make the inhabitants, or those who keep it, yield. The way he takes it is to famish them; to cut off all provision, and stop all passages, so that none can come to relieve them. Then they quickly yield themselves to the mercy of the assailant. So it is with our nature. And seeing that it is so — that we still trust to our own strengths, and rely on something of our own — the best way to famish the heart, is by cutting off all the means and comforts by which the heart is succored and quieted, but not rightly in Christ. For when the heart is thus famished, it will then seek out its Savior, and take itself there, because otherwise there is no other thing or means to help it. The poor woman in the gospel had spent all her goods on the physicians, Mat 5.26-27, and if she had but a little means left — even just a farthing-token — (for all I know or it appears) she would never have gone to Christ. But when all these failed, she was forced to seek Christ, who was ready and willing to do that for her, and more than she desired. Our souls must have something to rest upon, and they cannot subsist without some under-props. Therefore, when all our carnal hopes are taken from us, we stay (as we must) upon the promise, because we have nothing else to rest upon. Yet it is not required — though I speak this way — that a man should cast away all outward comforts that God affords him for the interim here. Oh no; but only this: that even if he has much in this way, that he yet labor to get his heart to see and acknowledge the insufficiency and emptiness of them all, till he has the superlative comfort, CHRIST, above all — and that he not repose in them as some do, making them their whole contentment and sole rest. For then they are but lying vanities and broken staves, which will not only deceive us, but pierce us too, and deeply.
And now, when the soul sees that these things cannot succor it, but lay it in a worse case, a man will then be content to have his heart divorced from them. And here it is with the soul, as it was with Noah’s dove when the ark began to rest on the mountain of Ararat. Noah then sent out the dove; but the dove found no rest for the sole of her foot. No question there were many dead carcasses to settle upon; but the dove found no rest till she came to the ark again. So when a man finds no rest in anything the creature affords, and can get no footing for the soul to stay itself upon, he then takes himself to Christ, the Ark. He goes home to the promise, and he rests there, and expects from there whatever is needful for him. Therefore, just as in the art of swimming, the one who swims must pluck his feet from the bottom, and commit himself to the stream to bear him up — so in this, our purpose to heaven, we must draw our hearts from these vain things below, and these from our hearts. Even if we have honor and preferments, we must put no confidence in them, but pluck our affections from them, like feet from the bottom of the stream. And we must learn by our believing, to commit ourselves wholly to the power of the promise, and to receive comfort from there, and permanent abiding.
Don’t let the gods of this world deceive you, then — such as honor, and profit, and pleasures. Did the pride of Pharaoh’s heart deliver him? Did the riches of the rich man in hell save him? Did Herod’s applause that he had, do him any good? Did these gods secure them? No; haven’t they left them in the lurch? Therefore let us take our hearts away from these things, and in comparison to those of our better life, have a base esteem of them. Let us see so great a vanity, emptiness, and insufficiency in them all, that we may be forced to seek to Christ, and say as David did, Help Lord, for vain is the help of man. Let us labor further to see the privy wiles of our own hearts, and to hunt out all those mazes, and turnings, and windings of our subtle souls. For here it is wonderful to see how the soul is ready to hang her comforts upon every hedge, and to shift and shirk in every by-corner for them. Now, when you see your heart thus seeking comfort in vain helps, call it away from them, and pluck these vanities up by the roots — see the emptiness of them. Then your heart will be fit and ready to make toward Christ.
Thomas Hooker. THE POOR DOUBTING CHRISTIAN DRAWN TO CHRIST.
