To The General Reader

To the General Reader

To prevent further inconvenience, I agreed to let these notes go out with some revision of my own, since there was already an intention to publish them by others who had not taken them down quite accurately — and these first, since they were nearest at hand. I have also had occasion lately for some fresh thoughts on this subject, through dealing with people whose main trouble was that they had not properly considered the gracious nature and office of Christ. Rightly grasping that is the spring of all service to Christ, and of all comfort from him. God has laid up all grace and comfort in Christ for us, and has planted in his heart a wonderful sweetness of pity and love toward us. As God the Father fitted him with a body (Hebrews 10:7), so he fitted him with a heart to be a merciful Redeemer. What do the Scriptures speak of but Christ's love and tender care for those who are humbled? And besides the mercy that rests in his own heart, he produces the same impression in his ministers and others, so that they comfort the fainthearted and bear with the weak (1 Thessalonians 5:14).

Ministers, by their calling, are friends of the bridegroom, sent to bring Christ and his bride together, and so ought, on every fitting occasion, to display the full excellence of Christ — that he is highly born, mighty, the one "in whom all the treasures of wisdom are hidden" (Colossians 2:3), and likewise gentle, good-natured, and gracious in disposition. It cannot help but cheer the heart of the bride to consider that, in all the weaknesses and miseries she is subject to, she has a husband of such kindness — one who knows how to honor the weaker vessel with gentle treatment, and who, far from rejecting her for her weakness, will pity her all the more for it. And as he is kind at all times, he is kind especially when it is most needed; he will speak to her heart, "especially in the wilderness" (Hosea 2:14). The more glory this brings to God, and the more comfort it brings to a Christian soul, the harder the enemy of God's glory and man's comfort works to breed false impressions of it — so that if he cannot keep people out of heaven altogether, he can at least trouble them along the way. Satan succeeds with some, and not the least among them, in getting them to neglect the very means of grace, for fear that, being so sinful, they would only dishonor God further and increase their sins. And so they lie smothered under this temptation, as if bound hand and foot by Satan, not daring to come out to Christ — and yet are secretly upheld by a hidden faith that shows itself in unspoken sighs and groans to God. These souls are deceived by false pictures of Christ, when in truth all his ways toward them are ways of mercy, and all his thoughts are thoughts of love.

The more maliciously Satan works to keep a soul in darkness, the more carefully that soul must be established on what will actually hold it up. Among the many grounds Scripture gives for our faith are these: the free offer of grace to all who will receive it (Revelation 22:17); the gracious invitation to all who are weary and burdened (Matthew 11:28); the offer to those who have nothing to pay with (Isaiah 55:1); the command that binds us to believe (1 John 3:23); the danger of unbelief, which leaves us shut up as prisoners under the guilt of every other sin (John 16:9); the sweet appeal to believe, with ambassadors sent to plead for peace (2 Corinthians 5:20); tender affections fitted to their calling; and sacraments ordained to seal the covenant. Beyond all these persuasions, one thing gives strength and vigor to the rest: that they all come from Christ himself, a person duly authorized, and from that same depth of compassion that moved him to become not only a man but a curse for us. This is why "he will not quench the smoldering wick."

It strengthens faith to remember that every expression of Christ's love flows from a nature that never changes. God knows that, prone as we are to sin, we are just as prone, once conscience is truly awakened, to despair over that sin — and so he wants us to know that he has committed himself, in the covenant of grace, to triumph in Christ over the worst evils and enemies we fear. His thoughts are not our thoughts (Isaiah 55:8); he is God, and not man (Hosea 11:9); there are heights and depths and breadths of mercy in him beyond all the depths of our sin and misery (Ephesians 3:18); we need never be in a condition so hopeless as to justify despair, since our sins are the sins of mere men, but his mercy is the mercy of an infinite God. And yet, though it is a truth clearer than sunlight that a broken-hearted sinner ought to lay hold of mercy so strongly held out to him, there is no truth the heart resists more — especially when, in the very depth of its misery, it is most ready for mercy — until the Holy Spirit sprinkles the conscience with the blood of Christ and pours his love into the heart, so that the blood of Christ in the conscience cries louder than the guilt of sin. For only God's Spirit can lift the conscience above its guilt into comfort, because only he is greater than the conscience. Men may speak words of comfort, but only Christ's own Spirit can actually comfort. Peace is the fruit of the lips, but it was created to be so (Isaiah 57:19). No creature can lift wrath off the conscience but the one who set it there, however persuasive the arguments brought to bear — not until the Holy Spirit himself effectually persuades, in a divine kind of eloquence that lifts our hearts to him who is the Comforter of his people, so that he would seal these truths to our souls. God deals with us as reasoning creatures, and so the way he works this powerful change in our consciences is by a kind of friendly exchange — entreaty and persuasion, unveiling his love in Christ, and showing Christ's gracious disposition even toward the weakest and lowest of men. God speaks to us in our own terms, though he acts according to his own. And because he is pleased to enter the heart and settle its peace by such means, we ought to treat all these sanctified helps with reverence — including this comforting picture of Christ, given us by God the Father, so that we might go boldly in every need to the throne of grace.

But we must understand that this comfort belongs only to those who give themselves over to Christ's government, willing in everything to be ruled by him. For in this text we see both truths joined together: mercy toward bruised reeds, and yet a government that steadily prevails over their corruptions. Christ so favors the weak that he shapes their souls into something better than they were, and it could not be otherwise — a soul that looks for mercy cannot help but submit, at the same time, to being guided. Those relationships of husband, head, and shepherd imply not only gentleness and mercy but government as well. When we become Christians in earnest, we are not exempted from all service; we simply change masters. So if anyone living a sinful life snatches at this comfort before it has actually been held out to him, let him know he does so at his own peril. It is as if an ignorant man wandered into an apothecary's shop, full of every kind of medicine, and grabbed whatever came to hand first — poison, perhaps, instead of medicine. There is no word of comfort anywhere in the book of God for those who cherish iniquity in their hearts (Psalm 66:18), even if they have not yet acted on it outwardly. Their only comfort is that the sentence has not yet been carried out, and so there is still opportunity for safer thoughts and resolutions; otherwise they stand not merely accused but condemned already by the word, and Christ, who rides on the white horse (Revelation 6:2), will spend every arrow on them and wound them to death. If anyone congratulates himself in a sinful way of life, God's wrath will burn against him. There is no more comfort to be had from Christ than there is care taken to please him; to make him an accomplice of a lawless, undisciplined life is to turn him into a fantasy — worse, into the very likeness of the one whose works he came to destroy (1 John 3:8), which is the most detestable idolatry of all. Part of how Christ's Spirit works in his people is precisely to guard them from such thinking. And yet we see people constantly inventing a religion for themselves that flatters the flesh and suits their own purposes — which, being hollow at its core, will prove just as hollow in its fruit: a house built on sand.

The whole aim of this is to draw us to welcome Christ's mild, safe, wise, and victorious government, and to strip away every excuse people might have for refusing to let Christ rule over them — especially once we see that salvation is not only powerfully accomplished but sweetly given by him. His government is not for his own benefit but for our good. We are saved by a way of love, so that love might be kindled in us toward God in return, because that affection melts the soul and shapes it for every duty, and for doing that duty in a way God accepts. It is the love within our duties that God regards, more than the duties themselves. This is the true, gospel-shaped disposition that grows out of Christ's love for us and our love for him in return — and it means we need not be afraid to come to him, as though we were reaching to grab a wild animal by the teeth. It is almost a foundational mistake to think that God delights in servile fear, when the fruits of Christ's kingdom are peace and joy in the Holy Spirit. Weak, servile, superstitious ideas about God all grow out of that same mistake.

Two things trouble the peace of Christians a great deal: their own ongoing weaknesses, and the fear of whether they will hold out to the end. This text answers both, for Christ is presented here as a gentle Savior to the weak, and for the future, his powerful care and love are never interrupted until he brings justice through to victory. This is why the means of salvation, the grace worked through those means, and glory itself — grace brought to its perfection — are all so often gathered under the single name of the kingdom of God: because whomever he brings to grace by his means, he will just as surely bring to glory by his grace.

This is what makes the thought of the final judgment a comfort rather than a terror: the one who will then be our judge cannot help but rule in favor of those he has already ruled over here. Whomever he guides by his counsel, he brings to glory (Psalm 73:24). If only our faith were as firm as our standing in Christ is secure and glorious — what kind of people would we be!

If I had tried to write in an elevated, impressive style, I would have missed my purpose and worked against the very argument I am making. Shall we who are servants quench those weak sparks that our Lord himself is pleased to cherish? I would rather risk some readers' criticism than stand in the way of others' good — and if that good is furthered in any way by these few observations, I have what I aimed for. I did not intend a full treatise, only to open up a text; whatever else I am led to do along these lines must come gradually, as time allows amid many interruptions. May the Lord guide our hearts, our tongues, and our pens, for his glory and the good of his people.

Richard Sibbes.