PROGRESS IS ALWAYS CHRISTWARD
PROGRESS IS ALWAYS CHRISTWARD
Every progress or growth is followed by some peculiar trial, and the extent of the growth is tested by it. It is not that the progress is annulled, but one is made sensible how entirely it is apart from nature. The trial may floor one, and one may appear for the time vanquished, and the progress may seem to have vanished; but after a time one is found to be as the teil-tree, whose substance is in it. The tree which had been cut down and left to every eye without a branch, sprouts again [p. 5] with all the vigour of old and strong roots. The time of growth is bright and pleasant, it is summer time; but then winter ensues, and the leaves all disappear, and for a time there is no progress, at least apparently. The trial may be something painful, or it may be something attractive which addresses one’s nature. When it is painful, one seeks if possible to get out of it; but the trial which thoroughly tests us, is the one which addresses our nature, as the green fields addressed Lot’s nature: or as the Babylonish garment did Achan’s; or as Delilah Samson’s, and so on. The question of natural right comes in, and one asserts it, and thus one loses the path of faith, which rests on God only.
Now the reason why this kind of trial is not more felt is that the conscience is not troubled; - the sense of standing on my natural rights saves my conscience from disquietude. Lot might have urged that he had a right to choose any part of the land. My natural conscience would be troubled if right were not on my side; but it will back me in the assertion of my right to gratify my lawful desires, and thus it balks and hinders me from seeing how I am drawn aside into nature; and my progress in Christ is checked.
Progress is always Christward. The moment I stand for my own rights or the gratification of the most lawful tastes - - for instance, affection or ambition - that moment I am turned aside from Christ, and my progress must be stayed, because I have become occupied, however amiably, with the man on which the cross must come. You may say this is hard - so did the young ruler, and “he ... went away grieved”, (Mark 10).
But now mark the order and manner of restoration. First, one begins to feel, like Lot, that one’s ambition has not conduced to one’s happiness; his righteous soul was vexed. What his conscience could sanction as right has brought him into very unhappy associations. Next, he suffers with his new companions, and, finally, he loses all his goods and escapes with his life. Samson [p. 6] loses his eyesight and is imprisoned; Achan is stoned and perishes with all that he had. When there is real truth of heart there will be restoration, though the tree may have appeared withered, after suffering grievously in every way, and the end is, one rejoices in parting company with one’s self. Accepting the place of death, we turn to Christ, like Jonah in the bottom of the sea - the whale’s belly; and then there is full restoration. Self has been discovered and judged; growth in Christ recommences; and a dreary winter is succeeded by a very prosperous and luxuriant spring-time.