SERMON I· 1 Joh. 1.1.

That which was from the beginning, which we have heard, &c.

IT is the great qualification of a Disciple, or Hearer, to be attentive, and docile, to be capable of teaching, and to apply the mind seriously to it: it is much to get the ear of a man; if his ear be gotten, his mind is the more easily gained: Therefore those who professed eloquence, and studied to perswade men to any thing, used in the entry, to fall upon some thing that might stir up the attention of their hearers, or make them the more inclinable to receive instruction, or catch their • avour or good-will, which is of great moment to perswasion: for it is sometimes fit to open the passages of the heart by such means, that there may be the more easie entry for instruction and perswasion. Truly there is something of this Art runs here in a divine channel; as indeed all these rules of humane wisdome attain their perfection, when they meet with a divine spirit, that elevats them to a more transcend • nt use. Happy was that eloquence of Pauls, and something like the sweet inspi • ation of Angel • , by which they prevail with the • pi • its of men: Nevertheless, being crafty ( • aith he) I caught you with guile, • Cor. 12 16. The • e were, piae fraudes, whe • eby he used to 〈◊〉 poor souls out of the pit, and pluck them out of the fire; and he that said, I will m • ke you fi • hers of men, taught them to use some holy deceit, to present some things for the allurement of souls, and so to surround and inclose them with most weighty and convincing reasons. This beloved Apostle who leaned upon Christs bosome, and was likely to learn the very secrets of the art of fishing souls, you see how he goeth about the business; he useth an holy art in this Preface; being about to give a re-capitulation of the whole Gospel, and to make a short summary of the Doctrine of it, for the more effectual establishment, and confirmation of souls already converted, and for the more powerful pe • swasion of others to imbrace it; he useth all the skill that can be in the entry, to dispose mens hearts to receive it; like a wise Orator, he labours to make them attentos, dociles, & benevolos: to stir up their attention, to conciliat their affection, and so to make them docile, and easily teachable: He stirrs up attention, when he shews that he is not to speak about trifling light matters, or low things, or things that do not concern them; but concerning the greatest, most concerning, • nd important things to them, even the word of life, in which all their life was wrapt up: which though it was ancient in it self, yet withall it was a new thing to the world, and so for all respects deserved to be taken serious notice of. Then he conciliats their benevolence and good-will, by shewing his own good affection towards them, and his great design in it, that it was only for their good and salvation, that he had nothing else before him, but to have them partakers with himself, in that same happinesse: he had sound a jewel, and he hides it not, but proclaims it, that all men may have fellowship with him, and that is, with God, and that cannot but bring in full joy to the heart. Now a soul being made thus attentive, and willing to hear, it is the best disposition, that makes them most capable of being taught. If those two stayes were come over; the careless regard that is in mens hearts towards the Gospel, and the suspicious thoughts and prejudices against the Ambassadours of it, then what would hinder to believe it? The great miseries of men are, Inconsideration, and Misapprehension: Either men are so noised with other things, continually buzzing in their ears, and their hearts so possest with the clamours of their lusts, and the cryes of the things of this world, that they have no leasure so much as to hearken patiently to this blessed sound, or to apprehend seriously what weight and moment lyes in it; and so the most part of men cannot give that •• rnest and deep attention that is nec • ss •• i • y • equi • ed fo • this divine teaching; or else there a • e m • ny mistakes and misconception • of the Gospel, which sometimes arise to that hight of • easoning ag • inst God, and prej • dices against them that ca •• y this message; which usually a • e joyned together, and the • e stop 〈◊〉 ea • s of men against the wisest and most powe • ful inchantment of P • eaching, that it gains not much g • ound on them. O that ye would once listen to the Gospel, Hea • ken and incline your ears unto me, i • the Lords fi • st great request: and i • once you do but se • io • sly apply your minds and hearts, to see what is held out unto you, and to prove what good i • in it, certainly these sure and eve • lasting me • cies will mercifully and sweetly c • tch you with guile, and deceive you, (if I may say so) to your eternal advantage. Wisdome, the Fathers wisdome, begs but an equal hea • ing of you, let her have but a patient hearing, and a silent impartial judgement of the heart, and she will ca •• y it off all that suit you: It is lamentable that the voice of God should be out-cryed by mens continual uninterrupted flood of businesse, that fills the heart with a continual noise, and keeps men in such a constant hurry and distemper, that they can give time and patie •• e to nothing else▪ and this is only the advantage, the world and the lust • of it have; for if they come once under a sober and serious ex • mination, and the other party, that is, Iesus Christ, and the Word of Life, might h • ve the liberty to be heard in the inward retired thoughts of the heart, it would soon be found how unequal they are, and that all their efficacy consists, in our ignorance, and their strength, in our weaknesse; Certainly Christ would carry it, to the conviction of all that is in the soul. I beseech you let us giv • him this attention.

He that answer • a tale before he hear it, its a solly • nd weaknesse to him: A • olly certainly it is to give this Gospel a repulse before ye hear it: It promiseth life and immortality, which nothing else doth; and you intertain other things upon lower promises and expectations, even after frequent experiences of their deceitfulnesse: What a madnesse then is it to hear this promise of life in Christ, so o • ten beaten upon you, • nd yet never so much as to put him to the proof of it? and to put him off continually who knocks at your hearts, be • o • e you will consider attentively who it is that thus importunes you. O my beloved, that you would hear him to Amen, let him speak freely to your hearts, and commune with them in the night on your beds, in your greatest retirement from other things, that you may not be disturbed by the noise of your lusts and business; and I perswade my self, you who have now least mind of this life, and joy in God, should find it, and find it in him: But to cut off • ll convictions and perswasions • t fi • st, • nd to set such a gua • d at your minds, to provide that nothing o • that • ind come in▪ or else that it be cast out as an enemy, thi • is unequal, ignorant, and unreasonable dea • ing, which you alone will repent of, it m • y be too late, when past • emedy.

He p • opounds that which he is to speak, in the fi • t • st way for the commendation of it to their hearts: and Oh! How vast a difference betwixt this, and the ordinary subject of mens discou •• e • ? our ears are filled continually with reports: and it is the usual way of men to delight to hear, and to report, even those things that are not so delightful in themselves; and truly there are not many occur • ences in the world ( • uppose you had a Di •• nal of the • ff • irs of all men, every week) that can give any solid refreshment to the heart, except in the holy meditation of the vanity, vexation, and inconstancy that God hath subjected all those things unto. But its sad, that Christians, who have so noble and divine, so pleas • nt and profitable things, to speak upon one to another, are notwithstanding as much subject to that Atheni • n disease, to be i • ching a • ter new things continually, and to spend our time this way, to repo • t, and to hear news; and alas, wh • t a • e those things that are tossed up and down continually, but the follies, weaknesse • , impotencie • and wickedness, ambition and avarice of men, the iniquity and impiety of the world that lyes in wickednesse; and is there • ny thing in this, either pleasant or profitable, that we should delight to intertain our own thoughts, and others ears with them? But the Subj • ct that is here intreated of, is of another nature, nothing in it self so excellent, nothing to us so convenient, That which was from the beginning, of the word of life, we declare unto you. O how pleasant and sweet a voice is that which sounds from Heaven, be those confused noises • re that arise from the earth? This is a Message that is come from Heaven, with him that came down from it: and indeed that is the Airt, from whence good news hath come; Since the first curse was pronounced upon the earth, the earth hath brought forth nothing, but thorns and b • iars of contention, stri • e, sorrow, and vexation: Only from above hath this Message been sent to renew the world again, and recreat it, as it were: There are four properties by which this infinitly surpasses all other things can be told you. For it self it is most excellent▪ for its endurance, it is most ancient; and to us, it is most profitable; and both in its self, and to u • , it is most certain; and by these the Apostle labours to prepare their hearts to serious attention.

For the excellency of the subject that he is to declare, its incomparable, for it is no lesse, then that Jewel that is hid in the Mine of the Scriptures, which he, as it were, digs up, and shews and o •• er • it unto them; that Jewel ( • say) which, when a man hath sound, he may sell all to buy it; that Jewel, more precious then the most precious desires and delights of men, even Iesus Christ, the substantial word of life, who is the substance of all the shadows of the Old Testament, the end of that ministery, the accomplishment of the promises, and that very life of all Religion, without which there is nothing more vain and empty. It i • t • ue, the Gospel is the word of life, and holds out salvation to poor sinners, but yet it is Ch • ist that is th • life of that wo • d, not only as touching the efficacy and power of it, but as touching the subject of it; for the Gospel is a word • f li • e only, because it speaks of him, who is the life and the light of men; it is but a report of the true life, a • Iohn said, I am not that light, but am sent to bear witness of that light, Joh. 1.8. So the Gospel, though it be called the power of God to salv • tion, Rom. 1.16. and the savour of life, and the Gospel of salvation, Eph. 1 13. yet it is not that true life, but only a testimony and declaration of it, it hath not life and immortality in it self, but only the bringing of those to light, and to the knowledge of men, 2 Tim. 1.10. it is a discovery where these treasures are lying▪ for the searching and finding.

To speak of this word of life, Iesus Christ, according to his eternal subsistence in the infinite understanding of the Father; it would ce • tainly requi • e a di • ine • pi • it, mor • elevated above the o • dinary sphere of men, and sep • rate from that earthlinesse, and impurity, that makes us incapable of seeing that holy and pure Majesty. Angels were but low Messengers for this; for how can they expresse to us, what they cannot conc • ive thems • lves, and therefore wonder at the mystery of i • ? I confes • e, the best way of speaking those things, which so infinitly surpass created capacities, were to sit down in silence, and wonder at them; and withall to taste such a sweetnesse, in the immense greatnesse, and infi • it myste • iou • nesse of what we believe, as might • avish the soul more, • fter that which is unknown, then all the perfections of the world known and seen to the bottom can do. This Doctrine of the holy Trinity hath been propagated from the beginning of the world, even among the Heathens, and derived by tradition f • om the first Fathers, or the Hebrews to neighbour Nation • , and therefore they speak many divine things of that Infinit, Supream Being, who is the fountain of the whole Creation, and that he created all things by his most divine Word, and that his blessed Spirit is the union and bond of both, and of all things besides. It is known what mysteries the Pythagoreans apprehended in the number of Three, what perfection they imagined to be in it: So much was let out, as might either make them without excuse, or prepare the world to receive readily the 〈…〉 should be 〈◊〉 • ev • ale • : It i • commonly he • d forth, that this eternal Word, i • the b ••• h o • the infinit understanding o • God, reflecting upon his own most ab • olu • e and pe • fect bein • ; which i • • llust • ated by some poor comparison to us Creatures, who • o • m in our mind▪ in the understanding of any thing, an inward word, or image of the object, some rep • e • entation and similitude of that we un • e • st • nd, and this is mo • e perfect then an external vocal expression can be; so we have a weak and finit conception of the acting of that infinit wisdom of God, by which he knows himsel • , th • t the • e results, as it were, upon it, the per • ect subst • ntial im • ge, and the expresse character of the Divine Essence; and therefore is the Son of God called, the Word which was with God, and the wisdome of the Father, because he is, a • it were, the very birth of his unde • standing, and not only the Image of his own Essence, but the Idea, in which he conceived, and by which he created the visible world. Then we use to conceive the H • ly • host, as the production of his blessed will, whereby he loves, delights, and hath complacency in his own all-sufficient, all-blessed Being, which he himself alone pe • fectly comprehend▪ by his infinit understanding▪ and therefore called, the Spirit, a word borrowed from • esemblance to poor cre • t • res, who have many impulses, and inclination • to several thing • , and are carried to motion, and action, rather from that part which is invisible in them; the subtilest parts therefore called Spirits: So the Lo • d applyes his Almighty power, and exerceth his infinite wisdome, according to the pleasure and determination of his will, for that seems to be the immediat p • inciple of wo • king; therefore there i • mention made of the Spiri • , in the Creatio • of the wo • ld, He sent • ut his Spirit, and they were • reated, P • al. 104.30. These are the weak and low attempts of men to • each the height of that unsearchable mystery; such conjectu • es we have of this Word of God, and his eternal gene • ation, as if Trees could take upon them to unde • stand the nature of Beasts, or as if Beasts would presume to give an account of the spirit that acts in men: Certainly the distance is in • initly greater between God and us; and he must needs behold greater vanity, folly, and darknesse, in our clearest apprehensions of his Majesty, then we could • ind in the reasonings and conceptions of Beasts about our nature. When our own conception in the womb, is such a mystery, as made David to sa • , O how wonderfully am I made, and fearfully? he saw a curious art and wisdom in it, that he could not understand, and he believed an infinit power, he could not conceive, which surprized his soul with such unexp • cted matter of wonder, as made him fear and tremble at the thought of it. I say, when the generation of a poor creature, hath so much depth of wisdome in it, now canst thou •• ink to understand that eve • lasting wonder of Angel • , the birth and conception of that eternal wisdom of God? An • if thou canst not understand from whence the wind comes, and whither it goes, or how thine own spirits beat in thy veins, what is the production of them, and what their motions? How can we then conceive the procession of the Holy Ghost, which eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, nor h • th it entered into the heart of man to consider it?

SERMON II· 1 Joh. 1.1.

That which was from the beginning, &c.

THings are commended sometimes, because they are ancient, especially Doctrines in Religion, because truth is before error, and falshood is but an aberration from truth; and therefore th • re is so much ple • and contention • mong men, about Antiquity, as if it were the sufficient rule of verity; but the abuse is, that men go not far enough backward in the steps of Antiquity, that is, to the most ancient rule, and pro • ession, and practice of truth in Scripture, to Christ and his Apostles, but halt in their Grand-fathers Tombs. But sometimes things a • e commended, • ec ••• e new; the nature of man being inclined to change and variety, and ready to su • fe • t and loath accustomed things: Even as the stomach finds appetite for new and unusual dyets, so the mind of man hath a sec • et longing a • ter new doct • ines, and things. Now we have both these combined together in this Subject, which makes it the more excellent and wonder • ul; Antiquity, and Novelty: for Antiquity, it is that which was from the beginning, and which was with the Father, and that is before all Antiquity, even from eternity; not only from the beginning of time, but before all time, be • ore all imaginable beginnings. He, of whom he speaks, Christ Iesus, the Fathers Word, was with the Father, from the beginning, with the Ancient of Dayes, who infinitly, and unmeasurably, antidates all antiquity, to whose endurance, all antiquity that is renowned among men, is but novelty, to whom, the world is but as of six dayes standing, or but as of yesterday, if we consider that infinit, beginningless, immensurable endurance of God, before this world: What a boddom or clew is that, that can never be untwined by the imaginations of men and Angels; To all eternity they should never unwind it, and come to the end of that threed, of the age of the Father, and the Son; who possessed one another before the hills were, and before the foundations of the mountains: This is it that maketh Religion the rich • st an • most tra •• c • ndent subj • ct in the world, that it p • esent • us with a two • old ete • nity, and invi • o • s the soul befo • e and behin • with an eternity without beginning, only proper to God, and an ete • nity without • nd, communicated to Angels and men, from God. That which was from the beginning, and before all beginning, either real, or im • gined, How much moment • nd weight is in that, to perswade a soul, and compose it, beyond all the specious and painted appearances of the wo • ld? to consider that such • Saviour is holden out unto us, to come unto, and lean upon, that is the Rock of ages, upon whose word, this huge frame is bottomed, and stands fi • m; one who infinitly exceeds and prevents all things, visible or invisible, all their mutations and changes, one who was possessed of the Father, as hi • delight, before the foundation of the world, and so most likely to reconcile him to us, and prevail with him; yea, most certainly, they must have one will, and one delight, who were undivided from all eternity; and they then rej • y • i • g in the h • bitable parts of the earth, taking complacency in their own thoughts of peace and good-will they had toward us, afte • wa • ds to b • eak forth. And if both delighted in their very projects and plots upon the business, what may we think the accomplishment of the whole design will add, if it were possible to supe • add to their delight? I would have you upon this, to gather two considerations, • o • your edification: One, to think what an incompa • ably excellent Saviour we have, one with God, equal to him, yea, one with him from all ete • nity, and so how strong a foundation there is for faith and confidence? What a Rock to establish a tossed soul upon? Mans misery and curse being for all eternity, their is one to deliver from that, who was from all eternity. And who could purchase unto us such absolute bl • ssedness throughout all ete • nity, who was not himself from all eternity? What marvellous congruity and beauty is in the ways of God? How is all fitted and • ramed by infinit wisdom? to the end that we may have strong consolation. Do you not see the infinit evil, and hainousness of sin, in the giving of such a p • ecious ransome for it? O how is the black visage of sin pourtrayed in the beauty and glory of the Mediators Person? How is it painted, even to horrour in his death? Again, what divinity and worth is put upon the immortal soul of man, that is but of yesterday, since the beginning? When he that was the delight of God, before all beginning, is weighted in the ballance, as it were, with it, and no other thing found sufficient for exchange and compensation, that the soul may be redeemed: And doth not this answer all the jealousies, and suspicious thoughts, and fea • ful apprehensions, arising from the consideration of our own weaknesse and infirmity? When such an one is offered, as is able to save to the utmost. Then I would desire you may believe, that the Father is as well minded to the salvation of sinne • s, as the Son; • or they were sweet company together from all eternity, and, as it we • e, contrived this plot and design between them, to save and • edeem mankind. Some intertain ha • sher thoughts of the Father, as if Christ were more accessible, and exorable; but the t • uth is, he hath given his Son this command, and the • efore he professed, that it was not so much his will, as his Fathers, he was about: Therefore correct your apprehension • , do not stand aback from the Father, as it were, till you have prevailed with Christ, no, that is not the way; come in your fi • st addresse to the Father, in the Son, for so he wills you; not because he must be ove • come by his Sons perswasion, but because he would have his love to run in th • t ch • nnel, through Christ to us: And indeed our S • viour was much in holding out the love of the Father, and laboured to perswade the wo • ld of it. Withall, I wish you to consider whom ye neglect and despise, who hear this Gospel daily, and the word of life holden out unto you; and yet suffer not your hearts to be moved, or stirred after him. Alas, my beloved, to forsake so great a mercy, as the eternal Word of Life, as the infinit Wisdome of the Father, and to let the offer of this, every day run by us, and never to find leasure and vacancy from the multitude of businesses, and throng of the thoughts, and lusts of the world, never to start so far backward, as to look beyond this world, to God, and his Son Iesus Christ, never to mind seriously, either him that was before all things visible, or our own souls, th • t must survive, and out-live all this visible frame. This, I say, is the great misery and condemnation of the world, that this eternal light hath shined, and you love your own darkness better: But be perswaded, that one day ye will think one offer of this Word of Life, better then life, better, infinitly better then the most absolute life that the attendance and concurrance of all the creatures could yeeld you. O then that ye would incline your ears and heart • to this that is declared unto you, to receive this Word of Life, that was from the beginning, and ye may be perswaded, ye shall enjoy a blessednesse without end.

But there is withall a newness in this subject, which both increases admiration, • nd may the more engage our affection; for the life was manifested (saith he) vers. 2. and he is such a word of life, as though he was invisible, and untouchable from the beginning, yet he wa • lately cloathed with flesh, that mad • him both visible, and capable of being handled. Now truly these • re the two Poles, about which the mystery, glory, and wonder of Christianity turns: the antiquity of his real existence, as God; and the latenesse or novelty of his appearance in the flesh, a • man; Nothing • o old, • or he hath the infinit fore-start of the oldest and most ancient Creatu • e • . Take those Angels, the Sons of God, who sung together in the fi • st morning of the Creation, yet their generation can soon be told, and their years numbered; it is easie to calculat all antiquity, and we should not reach six thousand years, when it is taken at the largest measure; and what are six thousand years in his sight, but as six dayes, when they are past? and if we would run backward, as far before that point of b • ginning, and calculat other six thousand, yet we a • e never a jote nearer the age of the Son of God. Suppose a mountain of sand, as big a • the ea • th, and an Angel to take from it one g • ain every year, your imagin • tion would weary it self, e • e ye reckoned in what space this mountain should be diminished, or removed: It would ce • tainly trouble the Arithmetick of the wisest Mathematician. Now imagine as many years, or ages of years, to have run out before the world took its beginning, a • the years in which the Angel would exhaust this mountain; yet we have not come a white nearer the endur • nce of our Lord and Saviour, whose being is lik • a Circle, without beginning, or end. Behold he is great, and we know him not, and the number of his years c • nnot be searched out, Job 36.26. and who can declare his generation? The age of thi • Word is such a labyrinth, with innumerable turning • , and wind • ngs in it, which will alwayes lea • them round that enter in it; and so they are, after the longest progress and sea • ch, but just where th • y we • e, alwayes beginning, and n • ver coming nea • er the beginning of his duration, because it is the beginning of all things that have a beginning, but hath none it sel • . Now he that was thu • blessed from everlasting, who dwelt in ina • cessible light and glory, which no m • n hath seen, nor can • ee, infinitly • emoved from all humane capacities and sense • ; he, I say, begins to be mani • ested in the fulnesse o • time; and to make himself visible, he takes on o • r flesh; and all for this pu • po • e, that he who was the substantial life in himself, and the eternal life, in an essential and necessary way, might become l •• e to poor dead sinners, and communicate to them eternal life; and truly it was no wonder that all ages were in expectation of this, from the beginning of the world, since it was first promised, that the Inhabitants of Heaven were in a longing expect • tion to see, • nd look into this myste • y, for ther • is something in it more wonderful then the creation of th • s huge frame of Heaven and Earth: God made himself in • manner visible, by making the visible world: His power, goodnesse, and wisdome, are every where imprint • d in great Characters o • the whole, and all the parts of it: the light, How glorious a garment is it? with which he is, as it were, cloathed: the Heavens, How Majestick a Throne? the Earth, How stately a Foot-stool? the Thunder, How glorious and te • rible a voice? In a word, the beeing, the beauty, the ha • mony, and proportion of this huge frame, is but a visibl • appe • rance of the invisible God. But in taking on our flesh, the Word is more wonderfully mani • ested, and made visible; for, in the fi • st, the Creator made creatures to start out of nothing, at his command; but in this, the Creator is made a Creature: He once gave a beginning of being to thing • that were not; being before all beginning himself; he now takes a beginning, and become • flesh, that he was not. And what i • it in which he was manifested? Is it the spiritual nature of Angel • ? But though that far excell ours, yet it i • no manifestation of him to us; for he should still be as unknown as ever. Is it in the glory, pe • fection, and flower of the visible world, as in the Sun, and lights of Heaven? But though that hav • more shew of glory, then the flesh of man; yet it makes not much to our comfort; there would not be so much consolation in that manifest • tion. Therefore, O how wisely and wonderfully is it contrived, for the good of lost man? That the Son of God shall be made of a woman, that the Father of spirits shall be manifested in the lowest habit of our flesh: and the lower and baser that be, in which he appears, the higher the mystery is, and the richer the comfort is; suppose the m • nifestation • f glory should not be so great, yet the manifestation of love is so much t • e g • eater; and this is t • e great design; God so loved, &c. Ioh. 3. Nay, • may say, even the glory of the only begotten Son of God, was the more • isibly manifested, that he appeared in so low and unequal a shape; for power, to shew it self in weaknesse, for glo • y, to • ppear in basenesse, for divinity, to kyth in humanity, and such glorious rayes, to b • eak forth from under such a dark cloud; this was greater Glory, and more M • jesty, then if he had only shewed himself in the perfection of the creatures. Now it is easie to distinguish the vail, from that it covers; to separat infirmity from divinity: but then it had been more difficult, if his outw • rd • ppearance had been so glorious, to give unto God what was Gods, and to give the creatures what was the creatures: The more near his outward shape had been to his divine nature, the lesse able had we been to see the glory of his Divinity through it.

Now, my beloved, when both these are l • id together, the • ncientnesse of our Saviour, and with • l the newness of his appearance in the flesh, by which he hath come so near us, and, as it were, brought his own Majesty within our sphear, to be apprehended by us; • nd for no other end, but to make life and immort • lity to shine forth, • s beams from him, to the quickning of dead souls. O how should this conjunction endear him to us: that the everlasting Father should become a Child for us; that is one wonder. The next wonder i • , that we who are enemies, should be made the children of God by him: when the da • k and obscure prophesying of this, when the twilight of Jewish type • and shadows did creat so much joy in the hea • t • of • elievers, in so much that they longed fo • , and • ejoyced to see afar off th • t day; when such a da • k • epresentation of this Word of L • fe, wa • the very life of the godly in the wo • ld, • or • our thousand years; O how much i • the cau • e of joy increased, by the rising of the Sun of Rig • teousn • sse himself, and appearing in the very da • kest nig • t of Supe • stition and Idolatry that was ever over the wo • ld? When the true Life hath • risen himself, and b • ought to open light that life that wa • obscu • ely couched up in P • ophecies and Ce • emonies, a • hid under so many Clouds. O then, let us open our h •• rts to him, and intertain th • se new and fresh tidings, with new delights: Though these be now mo • e then 16 • 0. years old, yet they • re still recent to a believing heart; th • re is • n everlasting spring in them, th • t • ends out every day fresh c • nsolation on to souls, a • refreshing, as the fi • st day▪ thi • spring was opened. This is the new Wine that never grows old, nay, it is • ather every gene • ation renewed, with the accession of some new manifestation of the love of God. Ch • ists Incarnation was the fi • st manifestation of the Sun, the very morning of light and life, the day-spring, vi •••• ng the world, tha • was bu • ied in an hel • i • h darknesse of Heathen Idolatry: and even the Church of God, in the grave of Superstition, and corruption of Doctrine and manne • s: then did that Sun of Righteousnesse fi • st set up his head above the Ho •• zon; but it is but one day still, he hath been but coming by degrees to the Meridian, and shining more and more to the perfec • day; That Sun hath not set since, but made • course, and gone a round about the World, in the Preaching of the Gospel, and brought life, & light about, by succession, from one nation • o another; and on • generation to another; and there • ore we ought to intertain it this day with acclamations, and jubilation of heart, as the people that ly under th • North, do welcome the Sun when it •• mes once a year to them. After that the kindnes • and love of God our Saviour toward man appeared, Tit. 3.4. 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 , his kindly and affectionat love to mankind, that is it that shines so brightly; the beams of grace and love to men, are the rayes that are scattered from this Sun of Righteousness. O the hardness of mens hearts, the impenetr • ble obstinacy of man, that this cannot melt or pierce. How damnable and miserable a case are they into, who can neither be perswaded with the eternity of this subject, to adore it, nor moved with the late appearance of the love of God to the world, in sending of his Son? whom neither Christs Majesty, nor his Humility, can draw. Certainly this make • sinners under the Gospel, in a more deplorable condition then So • om; because if he ha • not come, they had not had such sin, but now it i • without excuse, &c.

SERMON III· 1 Joh. 1.1, 2, 3.

That which we have heard and seen of the word of life, declare we unto you, &c.

THings that are excellent in themselves, will be lo • ed for themselves; but they become the more suitable object of affection, if they have with • l some suitablenesse and conveniency to us: Yet neither the excellency, nor conveniency of the object, is sufficient to engage the heart, if the • e be not something in the mind too, suitable to the obj • ct: that is, the apprehension of that reality and good that is in it; for • s there is a certainty in the object, that makes it a real, not imaginary thing; so there must be a certainty in the subject, whereby the thing is • pprehended to be true, good, and excellent; • nd then the object of af • ection is compleated. Some things there are in nature, excellent in themselve • , but they rather beget admiration, then • ffection, because they are not suitable to our necessities: Other things of a more ordinary purchase, have some conveniency to supply our wants; and though they be lesse worth in their own nature then precious stones, and such like; yet they are more desired. But there is this lamentable disproportion betwixt our • pprehensions, and the things themselves, which is the ground of much disappointment; and so of vexation. The things of this world having nothing of that solid excellency, or true worth, and conveniency to our souls, nothing suit • ble to our immortal spirits; but being empty vain shadows, and windy husks, in stead of substantial tru • food; yet there are high apprehensions, and big conceits of them, which is a kind of monst • uous production, or empty swelling of the mind; which because it hath no bottom of solidity, it will fall and evanish. Again, take a view of spiritual things, holden out in the Gospel, and there is as incong • uous and unproportioned carriag • of our hearts towards them, they have a certainty, and reality, and subsistence in themselves, they alone are excellent, and suit • ble to our spirits; notwithstanding, the mind of man is hug • ly mishapen towards them by unbelief, and hath nothing in his apprehension suitable to the thing • themselves: they are represented as far belo • their true worth, as things temporal above their just value; and therefore men are not enamoured with them, souls • re not ravished after that beauty that is in them.

Now the end of these word • read, is to reform this irregular, disorderly posture of your minds, to hold out to you things truly excellent, and exceedingly convenient, things good and profit •• le, in the most superlative degree, in the highest rank that your imagination can suppose; and then to pe • swade you, that you are not deceived with vain words, or fair promises, but that there is a certain truth, and an infallible reality in them, that you being assertained in your souls, • ccording to the ce • tainty of the things presented, you may then • reely, without any reserve, give your hearts to love, imbrace, and follow them. O that there might be such a meeting between your hearts and this eternal life, that as he hath come near to us, to be suitable to us, your apprehension • might draw near to be suitable to him: and by this means, your souls might meet immediatly with that Word of Life, and have that constant fellowship with him, that is spoken of, vers. 3. so your joy should be full. For joy is but the full peace of the desires; fill up all the wants of the heart, and then it is full of joy. And so, when such a satisfying object is pitched on, as doth exactly correspond, and answer the inward • pprehensions of the mind; th •• there is no more room in the heart for any other thing: as if two Superfices were exactly plain and smooth, they could joyn so closly together, that no air could come between them, and then they could hardly be pull'd asunder.

We spoke something of the excellency of tha • Word of Life in himsel • , and i • is • ut little that is said, when all is said, in re • pect of that which He truly is; but I fear we speak, and ye hear more of the • e things, then either o • us lively and affectionatly apprehends, or l • ys up in our hearts. I fear, that as we say lesse then is, so more then we think; I mean, se • iously think upon. But we shall proceed, such an eve • lasting glorious Person, though he have life in himself, though he be never so excellent, as the Son of God, yet what is that to us? It seems he is never a whit nearer us, or not m • re suitable to restore us, then th • very Majesty that we • ffended. How far is he without our sight, and without our comprehension? He is high as Heaven, Who shall ascend to b • ing down that • ternal life to us? But stay and co • side • , tha • he is not only so glorious in himself, but so gracious to us; he is not only invisible, as God, but manifested to our senses, as Man: not only hath life in himself, but is an eve • lasting spring of life to us; not only hath his Throne in Heaven with his Father, but hath c • m • down to the world, to bring that eternal li • e near u • , even in our mouth and hearts; to preach it, to purchase it, to seal it, and to bestow it, and the life was manifested: The life, and that eternal life, word • of force, that have some Emphasis in them: the life is much, that eternal life is more; and yet these had been little to us, if not manifested to u • : Life might have remained hid in God, eternal life might have recided in Christ the Fountain for all eternity, and nothing diminished of their happiness, if these had never sprung out and vented themselves; if that life that was with the Father from the beginning, had never come down from the Father, we wo • ld have missed it, not they; we alone had been miserable by it: Well then, there is a manifestation of life in Christ • low descent to death; the • e is a manifestation of the riche • of love and grace in the poverty and emptinesse of our Saviour, and thus he is suited to us and our necessities every way fitly correspondent: and now it is not only, as the F • ther hath life in himself, so the Son h • th life in himself, but there is a derivation of that life to man; that donation of life to the Son, Ioh. 5.26. was not so much for any need he had of it, as by him to bestow it on us, that it might b • , as the living Father hath sent me, and I live by the Father: So he that eats me, even he shall live by me, Joh. 6.57. As Parents that retain • ffection to their Children, albeit they have committed great injuries, for which they are driven out of their hous • , yet they will, as it were underhand bestow upon them, and exercise that same love in • covered way, by a third person, by giving to them, to impart to their Children. Notwithstanding this halts too much, for our Father dissembles not his love, but proclaim • it in sending his Son: Nor doth Christ hide it, but declares, that he is instructed with sufficient fu • niture for eternal life, that himself is the bread of life sent from Heaven, that whosoever receiveth it with delight, and ponders, and meditats on it in the heart, and so digests it in their • ouls, they shall find a quickning, quieting, comforting, and strengthning ve • tue in him. Nay, the • e is a strait connexion between his life and ours, because I live, ye shall live also; as i • he could no more want us, then his Father can want him, Ioh. 14.19. And as if he could no more be happy without u • , then his Father without him. And whence is it come to passe, but from his manifestation for this ve • y end and purpose? How should such strange Logick hold? Whence such a because? If this had not been • ll his errand into the world, for which his Father dispensed to want him, as it were, and he did likewise condescend to leave his Fathe • for a season. And now this being the businesse he came about, it is strange h • appeared in so unsuitable and unlikely a form, in weaknesse, poverty, misery, ignominy, and all the infirmities of our flesh; which seemed rather contrary to his design, and to indispose him for giving life to others, whose life was a continued death in th • eyes of me • ; and the last act of the scene seems to blow up the whole design of quickning dead sinners; when he who was designed Captain of Salvation, is killed himself: For if he save not himself, how should he save others? And yet be • old the infinit wisdome, power, and grace • f God, working unde • -g • ound, giving life to the dead, by the dea •• o • life it • elf: saving those that are lost, by one that lost himself: overcoming the world by weaknesse: conq • ering Satan by suffering: t • iump • ing over death by dying: L • ke that • enowned King of the Lacedemonians, who (when he heard of an Oracle, that if the Gene • al were sa • ed alive, the Army could not be victoriou • ) changed his h • bit, and went amongst the Camp • f his enemies, and sought valiantly till he was killed; whom when the Armies of the enemies understood to be the King and General, they presently lost their hearts, and retired and fled: So our Saviour, and Captain of our Salvation, hath offered himself once for all, and by being killed, hath purc • ased life to all that believe in hi • death, and that eternal life: Therefo • e, he is not only the word of life in himself, and th • t eternal life in an essential manner, but he alone hath the words of eternal life, and is the alone fountain of life to us.

Now for the certainty of this manifestation of the word of life in our flesh, both that he wa • man, and that he was more then a man, even God: this, I say, we have the greatest evidence of, that the world can afford, next to our own seeing a • d handling. To begin with the testimony set down here, of thes • who were e • r and eye-w • tnesses of all; which if they be men of credit, cannot but make a great impression of faith upon others. Consider who the Apostles were, men of great simp • icity, whose education was so me • n, and expectations in the wo • ld so low, that they could not be supposed to conspire together to a falshood; and especially when there was no wo • ldly inducement leading them thereto, but rather all things pe •• wading to the contra • y: their very adve • sa • ies could never object any thing against them, but want of lea • ning, and simplicity, which are furthest from the su • pition of deceitfulnesse. Now how were it possible, think you, that so m • ny thousands every where, should h • ve received this new Doctrine, so unsuitable to humane • eason, from their mouths, if they had not pe • swaded them that themselves were eye-witnesses of all these miracles that he did, to confi • m his Doct • ine, and this testimony had not been above all imaginable exception? Yea, so evident was it in matter of fact, that both enemies themselves confessed, the Jews and Gentiles that persecuted that way, were constrained through the evidence of the truth, to acknowledge, that such mighty works shewed forth themselves in him, though they out of malice imputed it to ridiculous and blasphemous causes: And besides, the Apostle used to provoke to the very testimony of 500. who had seen Iesu • rise from death, which is not the custom of liars, neither is it possible for so many, as it were, of purpose, to conspire to such an untruth, as had so many miseries and calamities following on the profession of it, 1 Cor. 15.6.

But what • ay they? That which we have heard of, not only from the Prophets, who have witnessed of him •• om the beginning, and do • ll con • pi • e together to give a testimony that he i • the Saviour of the wo • ld: but from Iohn, who was his Messenger, immediatly sent before his f • ce, and whom all men, even Christs enemies, acknowledged to be • Prophet; and therefore, his visi • le pointing out the Lamb of God, his decla • ing how near he was, and preferring of him • nfinitly before himself, who had so much authority himself, (and so is likely to have spoken the truth; being misled with no ambition, or affectation of honour,) his instituting a new ordinance, plainly pointing out the Messiah at the door • , and publishing constantly that voice, The kingdom of Heaven is at hand; these we, and all the people have heard, and he • rd not with indignation, but with reverence and respect. But above all, we heard himself the true Prophet, and sweet Preacher o • Israel, since the first day he began to open his mouth in the Ministry of the Gospel, we have with attentive ears, and earnest hearts, received all from his mouth, and laid up these golden sayings in our heart • : He did not constrain them to abide with him, but there w • s a • ecret power that went from him, that chained them to him inevitably, Lord, whither shall we go from thee, for thou hast the words of eternal life? O! that was an attractive vertue, a powerful conserving vertue, that went out of his mouth. We heard him, say they, and we never heard any speak like him, not so much for the pomp and Majesty of his stile, for he came low, sitting on an Asse, and was as condescending in his manner of • peech, as in his other behaviour: but because he taught with authority: there was a divine vertue in his Preaching, some spa • kles of a divine spirit and power in his discou • ses, broke out from under the plainnesse and simplicity of it; and made our souls truly to apprehend of him what was sacrilegiously attributed in flattery to a man, the voice of God and not of man. We heard him so many years speak familiarly to us, and with us, by which we were certainly perswaded he was a true man, and then we heard him in his speeches open the hid mysteries of the Kingdom of Heaven, revealing the will of the Father, which no man could know, but he that was with the Father, and came down from him: we heard him unfolding all these shadows and coverings of the Old Testament, expounding Moses and the Prophets, taking off the vail, and uncovering the Ark and Oracles: And how did our hearts burn within u • , while he talked with us, and opened to u • the S • riptures? We heard him daily in the Synagogues expound the Scriptures, whereof himself was the living Commentary, when he read them, we saw the true Exposition before our eyes.

Now, my beloved, you may be admitted to hear him too, for the sum of the living words that c • me •• om the Word of Life are written; his Se • mons are ab • idged in the Evangelists, that y • u m • y read them, and when you read them, think within your se • f, that you hear his holy mouth speak them; S • t your selves as amongst hi • Disciple • , th • t s • •• u may believe, and believi • g m • y h • ve etern • l life; for, for this end a • e they written, Ioh. 20.30, 31.

SERMON IV· 1 Joh. 1.2.

—Which we have seen, &c.

THere is a gradation of certainty here, hearing himself speak, is more then hea • ing by report; but an eye-witness is better then ten ear-witnesses, and handling adds a thi • d assurance; for the sense of touching gives the last and greatest evidence of truth. It is true, that the sense is properly correspondent to sensible things, and of it self, can only give testimony to his Humanity; yet I conceive these are here alledged for both, even also to witnesse his glorious • nd Divine Nature▪ which though it did not 〈◊〉 under sight and handling, yet it discovered it self to be l • tent, under that visible covering of flesh, by sensible effect • , no lesse, then the spirit of m • n, which is invisible, manifests its p • e • ence in the body, by such operations sensible, as can proceed from no other principle: And the • e • o • e, this faithful witness adds, which we have looked upon; which relates not only to the outward attention of the eyes, but points at the inward intention, and affection of the heart: our senses did b • ing in such strange and marvellou • object • to our minds, that we stood gazing, and beheld it over and over again, looked upon it with • eason, concluding what it might be; we gave intertainment to our minds, to consider it wisely and deliberatly, and fastned our eyes, that we might detain our hearts, in the consideration of such a glorious person. From this then ye have two things clear; one is, that our Lord Jesus Christ was a true man, and that his Disciples had all possible evidence of it, which the History more abundantly shews; he conversed with them familiarly, he eat and drank with them, yea, his conversation in the world, was very much condescending in outward behaviour, to the customes of the wo • ld, he eat with Pharisees when they invited him; he refused not; but he was more bold with Publicans and sinners, to conve • s with them; as being their greatest friend: He was uncivil to none; would deterr none through a rigid austere conversation; and indeed, to testifie the truth o • his Humane Nature, he came so low to partake of all humane infirmities without sin, and to be subject to extraordinary afflictions and crosses, as to t • e eyes of the world it did quite extinguish his Divine Glo • y, and bury i • in misbelief. This wh •• h we speak of, as a testimony and evidence th • t he w • s m • n, was the very grand stumbling-block and • ffence of the Jews and Gentiles; which they made use of as an evidence and certain testimony that he was not God: the evidence of the one seems to give in evidence to the other. But let us con • ider this, for it is a sweet and pleas • nt S • bject, if our hearts were suitably framed to delight in it, that there was as much evidence to the conviction of all mens senses, of his Divine M • jesty, as of his Humane Infirmity: and t •• t there a • e two concu •• ing evidences, which enlig • tens one another; which we shall shew, p • rtly •• om his own wo • ks and miracles, and partly from the more then miraculous successe and progresse of the Gospel a • ter him.

For the first, Iohn testifies, that not only they saw the baseness of his outward shape, but the glory of the only begotten Son of God, full of grace and truth, Joh. 1.14. Iohn the Baptist sent some of hi • Di • ciple • , bec • use of their own unbelie • , to enq • ire Jesu • , Art thou he, or look we for another? And what answer gave he them? What reason to convince them? Go (saith he) and tell what ye h • ve seen and heard, that the blind s • e, the l • m • w • lk, and the lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear, th • dead are raised, and the poor re • eive the G • spel: And blessed is he who ever sh • ll not for my outwa • d unseemlinesse, and basenesse, offend; But go by that, in to the glory that shines out in such works. It is said in Luke 7.21. that the same hour he • ured many: Befo • e he spoke in answer, he answered them by his deeds; he gave a visible demonstration of that they doubted of: For they could not but see a power above created power in these work • , which surpasse Nature and Art: so many wonderful works done, so often repeated, be • o • e so many thousands, even many of his watchful and observant enemies; and all done so easily by a word, i • finit cures for number and quality wrought, which passed the skill of all Physitians; Devils dispossessed, life restored, water converted into excellent wine, without the maturation of the Sun, or help of the Vine tree; a little bread so strangely enlarged to the satisfaction of many thousands, and more remaining then was laid down; the winds and seas obeying his very word, and composing themselves to silence at his rebuke; and infinit moe of this kind; Are they not in the common apprehension of men, of a degree superiour to that of nature? Who could restore life, but he that gave it? Whom would the Devils obey, but him at whom they tremble? Who could transubstantiat water into wine, but he that created both these substances, and every year by a long circuit of the operations of nature, turns it into wine? Who could feed seven thousand with that which a few persons would exhaust, but he that can creat it of nothing, • nd b • whose wo • d all thi • 〈◊〉 wo • ld sta • ted out of nothing? Nay, let us suppose these thing • to be done only by divine assistance, by some peculiar divine infl • ence, then certainly, if we consider the very end of this miraculous assistance of a creature, th • t it was to conf •• m the Doct • ine delive • ed by him, and make such a deep impression of the t • uth of it in the he •• t • of all, that it cannot be • ooted out; this being the very genuine end of the wisdom of God in such works, it must need • follow, that all that which Christ revealed, both of himself and the Father, of his own being with him from the beginning, of his • eing one with him, and being hi • eternal Son; all this must need • be in • allibly t • ue; for it is not supposible to ag • ee with the wisdom and goodnesse of God, to manifest so much of his infi • it power and glory, in so extraordinary a manner, to bear testimony to an impostor or deceiver. The • efore though no mo • e could be at first exto • ted f • om an enemy of Ch • ist▪ D • ct • ine, but that such mighty works did shew forth themselve • , which could not be done, but by the Divine assistance an • extraordinary help of God: yet, even • rom that con • e •• ion it may be strongly concluded, that seing there was no other end imagin •• le of su • h ext • aordin •• y assis • ance, but the con • irmation of hi • new Doctrine, and that of hi • Divine Natu • e, being one of the chief points of it, it must need • in • o • ce, that he was not only helped by God, as M • ses, but that he was God, and did these things by his own power. By this then it appears that though after so many Prophesies of him, and exp • ctation • from the beginning, we see but a man in outward appearance despisable, and without comlinesse and form; yet if we could open the eyes of our • ouls, and six them upon him, we behold as through some small crainies, Majesty shining in his misery, power discovering it self in his weaknesse, even that power that made the world, and man too: He was born indeed, yet of a Virgin, he was weak and infirm himself, yet he healed all others infirmities, even by his word; he was often an hungred, yet he could feed five thousand at one time, and seven thousand at another, upon that which would not have served his Disciples, or but served them; He was wearied with travels, yet he gave rest to wearied souls: At length himself died, and that an ignominious death, notwithstanding he raised the dead by his word, and at length he raiseth himself by his own power. All this is included in this, we have seen and handled; we saw him gloriously transfigured on the Mount, where his countenance did shine as the Sun, and his raiment was white as light, and two, the greatest persons in the Old Testament came out of Heaven, as it were, to yeeld up the administration of shadows to his substance: and we saw the Heaven opening in the sight of many thousands, and heard a testimony given him from Heaven, This is my beloved Son, hear him: And then when he wa • b •• ied, and our hope with him, we saw him • isen again, and our hope did • ise with him, and then • ome of • s handled his si • e • , to get • ull pe • swasion; and all of us eat and drank and c • nve • sed with him fourty dayes: and to make a pe • iod, at length we saw him ascending up to Heaven, and a Cloud receiving him a • a Ch •• iot, to take him out of our sight. Thu • , th • W • rd was made fl • sh, and dwelt among us, and we • a • e seen his glo • y, as • f the only beg • tten Son of God.

But besides that which the life and death of Jesus Christ carries ingraven in it of Divinity, there is one miracle, which may be said to transcend all that ever was done, and it is one continued wonder since his resu • rection, even the ve • tue and power of that crucified Saviour, to conquer the world, by such unsuitable, yea, contra • y mean • and instruments. Heathenish Religion was spread indeed universally th • ough the wo • ld, but that was not one Religion, but one name; for as many Nations, as many fancied gods, and in one Nation many. And true it is, that M • humet • nism hath spread it self far; but by what mean • ? only by the power of the sword, and the terrour of an Empire. But here is a Doctrine contrary to all the received custom • , and imbred opinions of men, without any such means p • evailing throughout the world. Cyrus, when he was about to conquer neighbouring Nations, gave out a Proclamation, If any will follow me▪ if he be a foot-man, I will make him an horse-man, if he have a Vill • ge, I will give him a City, if a City, I will bestow on him a Countrey, &c. Now mark how contrary the proceeding of our Lord is: Go and preach (saith he) Repent ye, for the Kingdom of God is at hand. Here is his Proclamation, Repent ye. And, if any man will be my Disciple, let him take up his • ross and follow me, and deny himself W • at disp • oportioned mean • ? and yet how infinitly greater successe? Cyrus could not gain the Lacedemonians to his side for all that, but Christ, though poor, despised and contemptible, while alive, and at length thought to be quite vanquished by the most shameful death, when he is lift up upon the Crosse, to the view and reproach of the world, he draws all men after him: He, by a few fishermen, not Commanders, nor Orators, perswades the world, and within a few years that crucified Lord is adored further and wider then any Empire did ever stretch it self. All the power, majesty, and successe of Alexander could nev • r perswade the Nations, no, not his own followers to adore him as God: But h • re one nailed to the Crosse, Crowned with Thorns, rejected of all men, and within a little space adored, wo • shiped, suffered for throughout the Nations, yea, Kings and Emperours casting down thei • Crown • at his feet, many thousands counting it their honour to die upon that account. And do not the Trophies of these Apostolick victories remain to this d • y, in every co • ner of the wo • ld, after so many hun •• ed yea •• , in so many different, a • d so far dist • nt N • tio •• ? th • t s • me N • me p • e • ched, • nd all k • ee • bo • in • to it. These things conside • ed, how much done, and by mean • wo •• e then nothi • g, it t • a •• cends all the mi •• cles th • t ever the world wond • ed at. N • w, my beloved, these things I m • nti • n • or this end, that ye may be pe • sw • ded upon sure ground • , that he who is pre • c • ed unto you, is God able to save you, and according to the evi • ence of these grounds, ye may believe in him, and give that co • dial assent to these eve • lasting t • uths, an • that welcome inte • tainment to • im in your heart that become • . I think certainly there i • ve • y little even o • this solid assent and perswasi • n of the Go • pel in the hearts of the m •• t p •• t; because they t • k • things or name • • ath • r implicitly, and never se • iously consider what th •• believe, and 〈…〉 grounds. But 〈…〉 a more pleasant or profitable meditation th • n this, if we would enter in a serious consid •• ation of the truth and certainty of these thi • gs we have received. O how would such evid • nce open the he • rt to • n intire and full closu • e with them, and embracement of them.

SERMON V· 1 Joh. 1.3.

That which we have seen and heard, declare we unto you, that ye als • may have fellowship with us, &c.

THere are many thing • that you may desire to hear, and it may be are usually spoken of in publick, which the generality of mens hea • ts are more carried after; but t • uly, I should w • ong my self and you both, if I should take upon me to discourse in these things, which it may be some desire, for direction or information conce • ning the times: for I can neither speak of them with • o much ce • tainty of perswasion as were needful, nor can I think it an advantage, to shut out and exclude this which the Apostle takes to declare, as the chief subject of his writing, which must needs be, if such things have place: The • e • o • e I cho •• e rather with the Apostle to declare this unto you, which I can alwayes do with alike ce • tainty, and certainly might alwayes • e done to an infinit greater advantage. Ther • a • e these two peculiar excellencies in the Gospel, o • Word of life, that it is never unprofitable, nor unseasonable; but doth contain in it at all times the greatest • dvantage to the souls of men, of infinit more concernment and urgency, then any other thing can be supposed to be. And then we have no doubtful disputations about it, it va • ie • not by times and circumstance • , it may be declared with the • a • e full assu • ance at all time • , which certainly cannot be attained in other things▪ I w •• ld gladly know what Paul meant, when he said, he •• t • rmin • d to know n • thing but Iesus Chri • t, and him • rucified, 1 Cor. 2 2. and that he •• unted all dresse and dung to the su • er-excelle • t knowledge of Iesus Christ, Phil▪ 3 8. Sure it must amount • o so m • ch at lea • t, that this should be the ordina • y subject • f the Ministers of the Gospel, since they are the Ambas • adours of Jesus Christ, not th • O • ators of the State. Should not all other things • e thought impertinent and •• ivial in respect of thi • , the salvation • f sinn •• s? And what hath a connexion with that, but I • sus Christ, and the W • rd • f life?

But though this be the most pleasant and profitable subject, yet I • ear, that • ew • f them who pretend a calling to thi • Embassage, a • e thus qualified and disposed to speak and declare it, as the Apostle imports, that which we have heard and seen, &c. It is true, there was something extraordinary in this, because they were to be the first publishers of this Doctrine, • nd to wrestle against the rebellion of mens heart • , and the idolatry and superstition of the world: yea, to undertake such a work, as to subdue all Nations by preaching of a crucified man to them, which seemed to reason, the most desperat and impossible imployment ever given or taken: therefore it behoved them to be t • e eye and ear-witnesses of his Doct • ine, Life, Miracles, and all; that being themselves perswaded beyond all the degrees of ce • tainty that reason c • n afford, they might be the more confident and able to convince and perswade others. But yet there is something that hold • by good proportion, that h • that de • lare • this ete • nal life to others, should be well acquainted with it himself; He that preaches Jesus Christ, should fi • st be conve • sant with him, and become his Disciple and follower, befo • e they can with any f • uit become Teache • s of others. Therefore the Apostles, Act. 1. Chooseth out one that had been with them from the beginning, gone in and out with them, seen and heard all. O! How incong • uous is it for many of us to take upon us to declare this unto others, which I fear, few can say they have heard and seen in a spiritual manner, and handled by expe • ience? No question, it prevails usually most with the heart, that comes from the heart: Affection is the fire that is most suitabl • to set • ffection on flame. It is a great addition to a mans power and vertue of perswading others, to have a full perswasion settled in his own heart conce • ning these things. Now it is much to be lamented that there is so little of this, and so few ca •• ies the evidence on their hearts and wayes, that th • y have been with Jesus, co • versant in his company. I cannot say, but the Ordinances, that carry their wo • th and dignity from God, and not •• om men, should be notw •••••• nding p • ecious to your hea • ts; an • tha • W • rd of life however, and by whomsoever sent, to you it be spoken, it should be suitably • eceived with gladnesse of heart. B • t I confes • , the • e i • much of the success disappointed, by the unsuitable car • iage and disposition of i • struments, which ought to be mou • ned under, a • the g • eatest judgment of this Nation.

Two p • inciples hath acted this Divine Apostle; the exceeding love of his Master, for he loved much, as he was much beloved, and this ca •• ies him on all occasions to give so hea • ty a testimony to him, as you see, I • h. 21.2 • . he characte •• zeth himself, or ci • c • ms • ribe • hi • own name thu • ; This is the Dis • i • le that testifieth these things, and wrote these things, and we know his testimony is tru • . Where that divine love, which is but the • esult and ove • flowing of the love Ch • ist car • ies to u • , fills the hea • t: this makes the sweetest vent, and most f • ag •• nt opening • f the mouth, whether in Di • course, or in Prayer, or Preaching that can be. O how it perfumes all the commendation of Ch • ist: Peter, lovest thou me, feed my sheep. These have a natu • al connexion together, the love of Christ in the heart, and the aff • ctionat hearty se • iou • declaration of him to othe •• . An • then, another principle hath moved him, the love of others salvation. These things I de • lare, that ye may h • ve fellowship with us; finding in his own experience how happy he was, what a Pea • l he had found, how ra • e a Jewel, eternal life, he cannot hide it, but proclaims it: His next wish is, Now since I am thus blessed, O that all the wo • ld knew, and would come and share with me; I see that unexhausted fountain of life, that unemptyable sea of goodnesse, that infinite fulnesse of grace in Jesus Ch • ist, that I▪ and you, and all that will, may c • me and be satisfied, and nothing diminished. There is that immense fulnesse in spiritual things, that sup •• abundance, and infinit excesse over our necessities, that they may be enjoyed by many, by all, without envy or discontent, without prejudice to one anothers fulness; which the ska •• nesse and meann • sse of created things cannot admit. I believe, if Ministers or Christian • did taste of this, and had accesse into it to see it, and bl • sse themselves in it, if they might enter into this t • easury, or converse into this company, they would henceforth carry themselves as those who pity the world, and compa • sionat mankind. A man that we • e acquainted with this that is in Christ, would not find his heart easily stirred up to envy, or provoked upon others prosperity or exaltation, but rather he would be constrained to commiserat all others, that they will not know nor consi • er wherein their own true •• anquility and absolute sati • faction consists. He that is lifted up to this blessed society, to conve • se with God, were it not for the compassion and mercy he owes to miserable mankind, he might laugh at the • ollie • and vanitie • of t • e world, as we do a • children. But as the 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 , the affectionat kind love our Saviour carried to humane nature, made him often g • o • n and sigh for his adversaries, and weep over Ierusalem, • lbeit his own joy was full without 〈◊〉 : So in some measure a Christian learns of Christ to be a lover and pitier of mankind, and then to be most moved with compassion towa • ds others, when we have fullest joy and satisfaction our selves. O that we might be perswaded to seek after these things which may be gotten and kept without clamour and contention, about which there needs be no s •• ife nor envy. O, seek that happinesse in fellowship with God, which h • ving attained, you • ack nothing but that other • may be a • happy.

These things I de • lare, th • t • e m • y have fellowship with us. O • ! that Minister • of the Gospel might • ay so, an • might f • om their own expe • ience invite others to p ••• ake with them, as Paul req • ests othe • s to be • ollowe •• of him, a • he was of Ch • ist; so these w • o suc •• ed Paul in thi • embassage of recon • il • tion, and a • e sent to call to the feast, might upon good g • ound inte • pose their own experience thu • , O come and eat wi • h us, O come and sh •• e with u • , for it will suffice us all without division. W • en some get into the savour of great and eminent persons, and have the honour to be their companion • , they will be very loath to invite pro ••• c • ously others to that dignity, this society would beget competition and emulation. But, O! of how different a nature is this fellowship? which whosoever i • ex • lted to, he hath no other grief, but that hi • poor brethren • nd fellow-creatures either know not, or will not be so happy: therefore he will alwayes be about the declaring of this to others. But if Ministers cannot use such an expression to invite you to their fellowship, yet I beseech you, beloved in the Lord, let all of us be here invited by the Apostle to partake of that, which will not g • ieve you to have fellows and companion • into, but rather • dd to your contentment.

Moreover, th • s may be represented to you, that ye are invited to the very communion with the Apostles, the lowest and meanest amongst you hath this high dignity in your offer, to be fellow-citizens with the Saints, with the eminent pillars of the Church, the Apostles.

It might be thought by the most part of Christians who are more obscure, little known, and almost despised in the world, that they might not have so near accesse into the Court of thi • great King: Some would think these who continued with him in his temptations, who waited on his own person, and were made such glor • ous instruments of the renovation of the world, should have some great preference to all others, and be admitted into the fellowship of the • ather and the Son, beyond other • ; even a • many would think, that Christs Mother and Kinsmen in the flesh, • hould have had prerogatives and priviledges beyond all his followe • s. But O the wonde • ful mystery of the equal, free, and ir • espective conveyance of this grace of the Gospel in Ch • ist Jesus! Neither bond nor free, neither circumcision nor uncircumcision. The •• is • ne common salvation, Jude v. 3. as well as common faith, Tit. 1.4. and it is common to Apostles, to Pastors, to People, to as many as shall believe in his Name; so that the poo • est and meanest creature is not excluded from the highest priviledges of Apostles. We have that to glory into, in which Paul glo • ied, that is, the Cross of Christ: we have the same access, by the same Spirit, unto the Father, we have the same Advocat to plead for us, the same blood to cry for us, the same hope of the same inheritance; in a word, we are baptized into one body, and for the essentials and chief substantials of priviledge and comfort, the Head equally respects all the Member • . Yea, the Apostles, though they had some peculiar gifts and priviledges beyond others, yet they were forbidden to rejoyce in these, but rather in these which were common to them with other Saints, Rejoyce not (saith Christ) that the • pirits are subject unto you, but rather rejoyce because your names are written in heaven, Luk. 10.20. The hight • nd depth of this drowns • ll other differences.

Now, my beloved, what can be more said for our comfort? Would you be as happy as Iohn, as blessed as Paul? Would you think your selves well, if it were possible, to be in as near relation and communion with Christ as his Mother and Brethren? Truly, that is not only possible, but it is holden out to you, and you are requested to imbrace the offer, and come and share with them. He that beareth my words and doth them, the same is my mother, and sister, and brother: You shall be as dear to him as his dearest relation • , if you believe in him, and receive his sayings in your heart. Do not then intertain jealous and suspicious thoughts, because you are not like Apostles, or such holy men as are recorded in Scripture? If you forsake not your own mercy, you may have fellowship with them in that which they account their chiefest happinesse; there i • no difference of quality or condition, no distance of other things, can hinder your communion with them; there are several sizes and growths of Christians, both in light and grace, some have extraordinary raptures and extasies of joy and sweetness; others attain not to that, but are rather kept in attendance and waiting on God in his wayes; but • ll of them have one common salvation, as the highest have some fellowship with the lowest in his infirmities, so the lowes • hath fellowship with the highest in his priviledges. Such is the infinit goodnesse of God, that which is absolutely necessary, and most important either to soul or body, i • made mor • universal, both in nature and grace, as the common light of the Sun to all, and the Sun of Righteousnesse too, in an impartial way, shining on all them that come to him.

SERMON VI· 1 Joh. 1.3.

—And truly our fellowship is with the Father and the Son, &c.

IT was both the great wisdome and infinit goodnesse of God, that he did not only f • ame a creature capable of society with others of his own kind, but that he fashioned him so, as to be capable of so high an elevation, to have communion and fellowship with himself; it is lesse wonder of Angels, b • cause they a • e pure incorporeal Spirits, drawing towards a nearer likeness to his nature, which similitude is the ground of • ommunion; but that he would have one of the material and visible creatures below, that for the one half is made of the dust of the earth, • dvanced to this unconceivable hight of priviledge, to have fellowship with him; this is a greater wonder: and for this end he breathed into man a spirit from Heaven, that might be capable of conformity and communion with him, who is the Father of spirits. Now take this in the plainest apprehension of it, and you cannot but conceive that this is both the honour and happinesse of man: It is honour and dignity, I say, because the nature of that consists in the applause and estimation of those that are worthy, testified one way or another, and the highest degrees of it rise according to the degree or dignity of the persons that esteem us, or give us their fellowship and favour. Now truly, according to this rule, the honour is incomparable, • nd the credit riseth infinitly above all the airy • nd fancied dignities of men; for the Foot-stool to be elevated up to the Throne, for the poor contemptible creature to be lifted up to the society and friendship of the most high and glorious God, the only fountain of all the Hierarchies of Heaven, or degrees upon Earth▪ so much as the distance is between God and us, so much proportionably must the dignity rise, to be advanced out of this low estate to fellowship with God; the distance between creatures is not observable in regard of this, and yet poor worms swell, if either they be lifted up a little above others, or advanced to familiarity with these that are above them. But what is it to pride our selves in these thing • ? when we • re altogether higher and lower at one view, as grasshoppers in his sight; therefore man being in honour, and understanding not, wherein his true honour and dignity consists, he associats himself to beasts; only the soul, that is aspiring to thi • communion with God, is extracted out of the dregs of beastly mankind, and is elevated above mankind, and associated to blessed Apostles, and holy Angels, and Spirits made perfect: and that were but little, though it be a honour above Regal or Imperial dignities, but it is infinitly hightned by this, that their association is with God, the blessed and holy Trinity.

Now herein consists mans happinesse too, for the soul being inlarged in its capacity and appetite, far beyond all visible things, it is never fully satiated or put to rest and quiet, till it be possessed with the chiefest and most unive • sal good, that is, God; and then all the motions of desires cease, then the soul rests from its labours, then there is a peace and eternal rest proclaimed in the desires of the soul, Return unto thy rest, O my soul, for the Lord hath dealt bountifully with me, Psal. 116.7. O! what a poor short requiem do men sing to their own hearts from other enjoyments? Oftentimes mens hearts, whether dreaming or waking, speak in this manner, Soul take thy rest ▪ but how ill grounded is that peace, and how false a rest, daily experience in part witnesseth, and the last day will fully declare? But, O! how much better and wiser were it for you, to seek the favour and light of his countenance upon you, and to be united to him who is the fountain of life, so ye might truly, without hazard of such a sad reprehension as that fool got, or grievous disappointment, say, Soul take thy rest in God.

Man was advanced to this dignity and happinesse, but he kept not his station, for that great Dragon falling down from that pinacle of honour he had in Heaven, drew down with him the third part of the stars of Heaven, and cast them to the earth: and thus, man who was in honour, is now associated with, and made like to beasts, or devils, he is a stranger to God from the womb, all the imagination • of his heart tend to distance from God, he is exiled and banished from Gods presence, the type whereof was his being driven out of the Garden, and yet he is not long out, nor far away, when the infinit love of God moves an Embassage to send after him, and to recall him; many messengers are sent before-hand to prepare the way, and to dispose mens hearts to peace; many prophesies were, and fore-intimations of that great Embassage of love, which at length appeared; for God sent his Son, his own Son, to take away the difference, and make up the distance. And this is the thing that is declared unto us by these eye and ear-witnesses, to this end that we may know how to return to that blessed society which we had forsaken, to our own eternal prejudice. Is man banished out of the Paradise of God into the accursed earth? Then the Son is sent out from his own Pallace and th • Paradise above, to come into this world, and to save the world. Is there such a gulf between us and Heaven? Christ hath put his own body between, to fill it up. Do the Cherubims watch with flaming fire to keep us from life? Then the Son hath shed his own blood in abundance, to quench that fi • e, and so to pacify and compose all in Heaven and Earth. Is there such odds • nd enmity between the families of Heaven and Earth? He sent his Son the chief heir, and married him with our nature, and in that eternal marriage of our nature with him, he hath buried in everlasting oblivion all the difference, and opened a way for a nearer and dearer friendship with God then was before. And whence was it, I pray you, that God dwelt among men? First in a Tabernacle, then in a fixed Temple, even among the rebellious sons of men; and that so many were admitted and advanced again to communion with God; Abraham had the hono • r to be the friend of God, (O incomparable title! comprehending more then King or Emperour) Was it not all from this, the anticipating vertue of that uniting and peace-making sacrifice? It was for his sake who was to come, and in his flesh to lay a sure foundation for eternal peace and friendship between God and man.

Now you see the ground of our restitution to that primitive fellowship with God, my earnest desire is that ye would lay hold on this opportunity. Is such an high thing in your of • er? yea, are you earnestly invited to it by the Father and the Son? then sure it might at the first hearing beget some inward desire, and kindl • up some holy ambition after such a happinesse. Before we know further what is in it, (for the very fi • st sound of it imports some special and incomparable priviledge) might not our hearts be inflamed, and ought we not to enquire at our own hearts, and speak thus unto them, Have I lived so long a stranger to God the fountain of my life? Am I so far bewitched with the d • ceitful vanities of the world, as not to think it incomparably better, to rise up above all created things, to communicat with the Father and the Son? And shall I go hence without God and without Ch • ist, when fellowship with them is daily, freely, and plentifully holden forth? I beseech you consider where it must begin, and what must be laid down for the foundation of this communion, even your union with Jesus Chri •• the Mediator between God and man; and you cannot be one with him, but by forsaking your selves, and believing in him; and thence flow • that constant abode and dwelling in him, which is the mutual intertainment of Christ and • soul, after their meeting together Can two walk together except they be agreed? We are by nature enemies to God; Now ce • tainly reconciliation and agreement must inter • een by the blood of the Cross, before any friendly and familiar society be kept. Let this then be your first study, and it is first declared in the Gospel, Jesus Christ is holden out as partaking with you in all your infirmities, he is represented as having fellowship with us in our sins and curses, in our afflictions and crosses, he hath fellowship in our nature to bear our sins and infirmities. Now since he hath partaken in these, you are invited to come and have fellowship with him in his gifts and graces, in the precious merits of his death and • uffering, in his • ising again and returning to glory. And this is the exchange he makes and declares in the Gospel, I have taken your sins • nd cu • ses, O come and take my graces, and that which is purchased by my blood. Now this is the first beginning of • souls renewed fellowship with God, and it is the foundation of all that is to come, to imbrace this offer, to accept him cordially as he is presented, and to pacifie and quiet our own hearts by saith in that he hath done. And this being once laid down • s the ground-stone, the soul will grow up into more communion with him.

To speak aright of this communion, would require more acquaintance with it, then readily will be found amongst us: but it is more easie to understand in what it is exercised and intertained, then to bring up our hearts unto it. Certainly it must neither be taken so low and wide, as if it consisted all in these external duties, and approaches of men to God; for there is nothing capable of communion with the Father of spirits, but a Spirit; and sure I am, the most part of us removes them, and acts little that way. It is a lamentable thing that men pretend to please God with such vain empty shows, • nd bodily appearances, without any serious exercise of their souls, and attention of their minds in divine worship. Neither yet must it be taken so high, and made so narrow, a • if it consisted only in these ravishments of the soul after God, which are joyned with extraordinary sweetnesse and joy, or in such rare pieces of accesse and liberty; for though that be a part of it, yet is it neither universal to all Gods children, nor yet constant in any. The • e may be some solid serious attendance on God in his Ordinances, which may have more true substantial life in it, and more of the marrow of Christianity in it, though a soul should not be acquainted with these • aptures, nor ever carried without the Line of an equal walking with God. Therefore that which I would exhort you to, i • to acquaint your selves with Iesus Christ, and you shall find a new way opened in him, by which you may boldly com • to God, and having come to God in him, you are called to walk with him, to intertain that acquaintance that is made, till all the distance and estrangednesse of your heart • be worn out. And I know not any thing which is more apt either to beget, or preserve this fellowship, then the communication of your spirits often with him in prayer, • nd with his word in meditation, and this is not to be discharged as a custome, but the love of God within, drawing the heart willingly towards communication with him, and constraining to pour out your requests to him, and wait on him, even though ye should not find that sensible sweetnesse that sometimes is found. It were an happy advancement in thi • fellowship, if converse with God, whether in prayer and solemn retirements, or in meditation, or in our ordinary walking, were become the delight of our hearts, at least that they might be carried that way towards the intertaining the thoughts of his Majesty, his Glory, and Grace, and Goodness, and Wisdome shining every where, as from a natural instinct, even when we are not ingaged with the present allurements of that sweetnesse that sometimes accompanies it.

SERMON VII· 1 Joh. 1.3.

— And truly our fellowship is with the Father, and with his Son Iesu • Christ.

Vers. 4.

And these things write we unto you, that your joy may be full.

IT was sin that did f • rst break off that fellowship that was between God and man, and cut off that blessed society, in which the honour and happinesse of man consisted; but that fundamental bond being loosed, it hath likewise untyed all the links of society of men among themselves, and made such a general dispersion and dissipation of mankind, that they are almost like wild beasts, raging up and down; and in this, wilder then beasts, that they devour one another, which beasts do not in their own kind; and they are like fishes of the Sea, without rule and government. Though there be some remnants of a sociable inclination in all men, that shews it self in their combinings in societies, and erecting governments; yet generally that which is the true bond and ligament of men, which alone can truly knit them together, is broken, that is love, the love of God and our neighbours; And therefore notwithstanding of • ll the means used to reduce, and to contain mankind in order and harmony by government; yet there are nothing but continual rents, distractions, dissipations, divisions, and dissolutions in Commonwealths amongst themselves, and between Nations; so that all men may be represented as Lions, Tigers, Wolves, Serpents, and such like unsociable creatures, till the Gospel come to tame and subdue them, as it is often holden out in the Prophets, Isai. 2.4. and 11.6, 7, 8. and 65.25.

Now indeed you have here the express end and purpose of the Gospel, to make up these two great breaches in the creature, between God and men, and between men and men. It is a Gospel of peace; where ever it takes hold of mens spirits, it reduceth all to a peaceable temper, joyns them to God, • nd one to another: for the very sum and substance of it is the love of God to mankind, and proposed for this end, to engage the love of man again; and love is the glew, the cement that alone will conjoyn hearts unto this fellowship. It is a strange thing, and much to be lamented, that Christendome should be a field of blood, an Aceldama, beyond other places of the world: that where the Gospel is pretended to be received, that men have so far put off even humanity, as thus to bite and devour one another. Certainly it is, because where it is preached it is n • t believed: therefore sin taketh occasion by it to become the more sinful; alwayes let us take heed to this, that it is the great purpose and grand design of the Gospel preached to u • , to restor • us to a blessed society and fellowship with the Father, and withal, to a sweet fellowship amongst our selv • s; for both you see are here.

We are called to fellowship with the Father, • nd what is that? but to have the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ thy Father, and thou to be his son by adoption of grace: It is certainly the very marrow and extract of the whole Covenan • , and all the promises thereof, I will be your Father, and ye shall be my sons and daughters, saith the Lord Almighty, 2 Cor. 6.18. I go (saith Christ) to your Father and my Father, and to your God and my God. O what a sweet complication and interchange of relations, Iob. 20.17.

I will be your God, and ye shall be my people, he • e is the Epitome of all • appinesse and felicity; In this word all i • inclo • ed, and without this, nothing is to be found that deserves the desires of an immortal spirit: For hence it follows, that a soul is filled with the all-fulnesse of God, Eph. 3.19. for that is made over to thee who believes the Gospel, and thou hast as real a right and title to it, as men have to their f • thers inheritance. Then to have fellowship with his Son Jesus Christ, is • nother branch of this dignity, and this is that which introduceth the other, Christ is the middle person, the Mediator between God and man, given for this end, to recover men from their woful dispersion, and separation from God, and reduce them • gain to that blessed society: and therefore our acquaintance, as it were, first begins with him, and by him we are led to the Father, No man can come to the Father but by the Son: Therefore, if you have his friendship, you have done the busines • , for he and his Father is one.

Now this fellowship, to branch it forth mor • particularly, is either real, or personal: Real, I mean, 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 Bonorum, a communion of all good things, a communion with him in his Nature, Offices, and Benefits, and thi • must be laid down as the foundation-stone of thi • fello • ship, he came near us, to partake of flesh and blood with us, that we might have a way, • ne • and living way consecrated, even the vail of his flesh, to come to God by; for certainly this gives boldnesse to a soul to draw near to God, with some expectation of successe and acceptation, when it is seriously considered, that our nature is so nearly conjoyned already to God; by this step a soul climbs up to the Majesty of God, and by means of this, we become partakers of the Divine Nature,, as God of Humane Nature, 2 Pet. 1.4. So by the same degrees we ascend to God, that God hath descended to us; he drew near us by our nature, and we by the intervention of that same ascend to him, and receive his image and stamp on our souls: for the Lord did stamp his own image upon Christs Humane N • ture, to make it a pattern to us, and to represent to us, as in a visible symbole and pledge, what impression he would put upon us: Then we have fellowship with him in his Offices, I need not branch them out severally, you k • ow what he was anointed for, to be a Priest ▪ to off • r s • crifice, and reconcile u • to God, an • • o make intercession for u • ; to be • King, • o ru •• us by his Word and Spirit, and defend u • • g • inst our enemies▪ to be • Prophet, to r • veal • he will of God to u • , 〈◊〉 instruct us in 〈◊〉 same. He • e • s • large field o • fellowship, we h • ve • dmit • an • 〈◊〉 by faith in Jesus Christ, to th • real • dva • tage • nd benefit of • ll these▪ there i • nothing in them but it r • late • to us, • nd • edou • ds to us, the living ver • ue of that sacrifice, i • as fresh and recent this day, to send up • favour of rest • o Heaven, and to pacifie a troubled conscience, as the first day it was offered: That perfect sacrifice is as available to thy soul, as if thou had offered it thy self, and this day ye have the benefite of his prayers in Heaven, we partake of the strong cryes and tears in the days of his flesh, and of intercession since, more then of our own supplications. What shall I say? ye have one to teach you all things that is needful for you; one to subdue your sins under you; and by vertue of fellowship with Jesus Christ in these Offices, there is something derived from it, and communicated to us by it, that we should be Kings and Priests to God our Father; Kings to rule over our own s • i • it • and lusts, in as • ar as grace reigns in us to eternal life, and that is truly a heroick royal spirit, that overcomes himself and the world; and Priests, to offer unto God continually the sacrifice of prayer and praises, 1 Pet. 1.3, 4, 5. which are sweet smelling and pleasant in his fight; yea, we should offer up our own bodies a • a reasonable service, Rom. 12.1. and this is a holy • nd living sacrifice, when we dedicat and consecrat all our faculties, members, and abilitie • to his will and service; and do not spare to kill our lust • , which are his and our enemies.

Let us sum up • ll in this, whatsoever grace or gift is in Christ Jesus, whatsoever preheminence he hath above Angels and men; whatsoever he purch • sed, he purchased by his obedient life, and patience in death, there i • nothing of all that, but the soul may be admitted to fellowship in it, by its union with him by • aith; have him, and have all that he hath: Faith mak • s him • ours, and all that he hath is a consequential appendix to himself: the Word of the Gospel offers him freely to you, with all his benefits, interests, and advantages, O that our hearts may be induced to open to him.

N • w being thus united to Jesus Christ, that which I would pe • swade next to, is a personal communion, that is, a suitable intertainment of him, a conjunction of your soul to him by love, and a conspiracy of all your endeavours henceforth to please him: It is certain, that true frien • ship is founded on a conjunction and harmony of souls by affection, by which they cease to b • two, and becomes in a manner one; for love makes • kind of transport of the soul into another, and then all particul • r and proper interests are drowned in oblivion, no more mine and thine, but he makes an interchange, mine th • ne, and thine mine, my heart thine, and thy honour mine. Now certain it is, that in this God hath given us a rare pattern, and leads the way; for he declare • hi • love to the world, in the rarest effects of • t, which give the clearest demonstrations possible; God so loved the world, that he sent his Son: And you have the most in • allible argument of the Sons love, greater love hath no m • n th • n this, to lay down his life for his friends, but h • for his enemies. Now then, you see how the heart of God and his Son Jesus Christ is fixed from everlasting on the sons of men so unalterably, and so fully set towards them, that it hath t • ansported the Son out of his own glory, and brought him down in the state of a servant. But it is not yet known what particular persons are thus fixed upon, untill that everlasting love break out from under ground, in the ingagement of thy souls love to him, and till he have fastned this chain, and set this seal on thy heart, which makes thee impatient to want him: thou knowest not the seal that was on his heart from ete • nity. But now the love of a believer being the result of his love, this is it that is the source and spring of constant communion: and it vents it self in converse with God, and daily intertainment of him in our spirits and wayes; There is a keeping of company with him in prayer and meditation, and all the Ordinances; there is a communication and familiar conference of the heart with him, either in thinking on him, or pouring out our requests to him; there is a mutual and daily intercourse and correspondence of that soul with God, in answering his word by obedience, in praying to him, and receiving answers from him, and then returning his answer again with a letter of thanks • nd praise, as it were; these are the wayes to increase that love of God, and kindle it up to a higher flame; and it being thus increased, it gathers in all the indeavours and abilities of the soul, and sets all on fire, as a sweet • melling sacrifice to plea • e him: It is henceforth the great study of the soul, to remove all things that are offensive to him; for the intertaining of sin, his enemy, is most inconsistent with this true fellowship and friendship: If I regard iniquity in my heart, the Lord will not hear me, Psal. 66.18. This will ma • r that sweet correspondence in prayer and praises; for it is a breach of peace and Covenant, to regard and maintain his enemies; therefore the • oul that loves God, will study to compose it sel • in all things to his good pleasure, as well as his love that is strong as death, puts him upon a careful watching, to do all things for our profite; and so this takes in our whole carriage and walking in religious approaches, or in common b • sines • es, to have this as our great design, Conversing with God, and walking to all w • ll-pleasing.

Now if we were once enrolled in this blessed fellowship with the Father and the Son, then it follows as a fruit and result of thi • , that we should have fellowship one with another, and truly the more unity with God, the more unity amongst our selves; for he is the uniting, cementing principle: he is the Cen • er of all Christian • , and as Line • , the furthe • they are from the Center, the farrer distant they are one from another; so the distance and elongation of souls from God, sets them at furthest distance amongst themselves: The nearer we come every one to Jesus Christ, the nearer we joyn in • ffection one to anot • er: and this i • imported in that of Ch • ist • Prayer, That they may be one in us, Joh. 17 21, 22▪ No unity but in that one Lord, and 〈◊〉 perfect unity but in a perfect union with him. I would exhort to study this more, to have fellowship one with another, as member • of the same body, by sympathy, by mutual helping one another in spiritual and temporal things: Even amongst Christians that live obscurely in • City, in a Village, there is not that harmoniou • agreement and consent of hearts, that contention and plea of love, of gentlenesse, and forbearance, who shall exercise most of that; but there are many jealousies, heart-burnings, g • udg • ngs, st •• fes, evil speakings, &c. to the stumbling of others, and the weakning of your selves, which certainly argue that ye are much ca • nal, and walk as men, and that the love of God, and fellowship with him is waxed cold, and is languished and dead, &c.

SERMON VIII· 1 Joh. • .4.

And these things write we unto you, that your joy may be full.

ALL motions tend to rest and quietnesse, we see it daily in the motions below, and we believe it also of the circular revolutions of the Heavens above, that the • e is a day coming in which they shall cease, as having performed all they were appointed for; And as it is in things natural, so it is in things rational in a more eminent way, their desire • , affections, and actions, which are the motions, and stretches of the soul towards that it desires, and apprehends as good, tends of their own nature, and are directed by the very intention of the soul, to some rest and tranquillity, some joy and contentation of spirit. If other things that have no knowledge, have their center of rest, how much more must man, who is an understanding c • eature, have it by the ordination and appointment of God? But there is this wide difference in the point of capacity of happinesse, between man and other creatures, that they, whatsoever excellent vertues or properties they have, yet know them not themselves, and so can neither enjoy what excellency themselves have, nor have use of what is in others; for, to what purpose is it to shine forth, if there be no eye to see? What advantage hath • he Rose in its fragrancy, if it cannot smell it self? That which is not perceived, is as if it were not. And therefore it is an evident testimony that all these visible things were created, not for themselves, but for mans sake who knows them, can use them, and enjoy them: here is then the peculiar capacity that God hath given to man, to discern and know what he seeks, what he hath, • nd possesses, that so he may be able to enjoy it, or use it, according to the nature of it. This is a great point of Gods Image, and conformity with him, whose infinit blessednesse and joy • iseth from that pe • fect comprehension, and intuitive beholding of himself, and his own incomprehensible riches; So then, mans happiness or mise • y must depend upon this, both wh • t the soul fixeth upon, and what it apprehendeth to be in it; for, if that eternal and universal good, the all-fulnesse of God, be the center of the soul • desires and endeavours, and there be apprehended and discovered in God, that infinit excellency, and variety of delights, which nothing else can afford so much as a shadow of, then, there cannot but result from such a conjunction of the souls • prehension, suitable to the fulnesse of God, • nd of the excellency and goodnesse of God, suitable to the desires of the soul, such a rest and tranquillity, such joy and satisfaction, as cannot choose but make the soul infinitly happier then the enjoyment of any other thing could do.

This being the thing then, which all me • s desires naturally tend unto, this tranquillity and perfect satisfaction of the heart, being th • t which carries all mens hearts after it, and that which men seek for it self, and which they seek in all oth • r things; the great misery of man is, that he mistakes the way to it, and seeks it where it is not to be found. The generality of men, are so far degenerated both from the impression of a divine Majesty, and the sense of an immortal being within themse • ves, that they imagine to content, and ea • e their own hearts, in these outward, uncon • tant, perishing things, and so their life i • spent in catching at shadows, in • eeding on the wind, in labouring in the fire. There is nothing so plentifully satisfies our expectation • , as can quite the cost, and recompence the expences o • our labour, toil, grie • , and travel about it; there is nothing therefore but a continual, restlesse agitation of the heart, from one thing to • nother, and that in a round circling about, from one thing that now displeases or disappoint • , to thing • that were formerly loathed; as a sick man tu • ns him from one side to • nother, or changes bed • often, and at length retu • ns, expecting to find some ease where he lay at first. And it may be judged, that all circular motions are eternal, and so they can never be supposed to attain their end, that is rest and tranquillity; therefore a soul thus carried in a round, by the vain imaginations of his heart, is likely never to settle and find solid rest and peace. Nay, how is it possible that they c • n give that tranquillity and contentation to the heart and soul of man, that are so utterly in their natures disproportioned to it? both because they are only suited to the senses, and likewise, for that they are changeable. Now the soul is framed with a higher capacity, and can no more be satiated with visible things, then a man that is hungry can be satisfied with gold; and besides, it is immortal, and must have something to survive all the changes of time, and therefore is likely to rest no where but in that which hath eternal stability. Now though these things cannot truly fill the heart, yet they swell the belly, like the east wind, or like the prodigals husks, fill it with wind, which causeth many torments and distempers in the soul; and though they cannot give ease, yet they may be as thorns to prick and pierce a man through with many sorrows, as our Saviour speaks: so that there is no more wisdom or gain in this, then in gathering an armfull of thorns, and inclosing and preassing hard unto them, the more hardly and strongly we grip them, the more grievously they pierce us; or as if a man would fle • into a hedge of thorns in a tempest, the further he thrust into it, he is the wor •• pricked; and that which he is fallen into, is worse then that he fleeth from. I am sure all your experiences giv • • harmonious testimony to this, that there is no solid, permanent, constant, and equable heart-joy and contentation in all the f • ncied and imaginary felicities that this world adores. There is nothing of these things, that is not lesser, and lower in actual possession, nor in the first apprehension of them affar off. Nothing in them answers either our desires or expectations; and therefore, in stead of peace and tranquillity, they breed more inward torment and disquiet, because of that nec • ssary and inevitable disappointment that • ttends them. Therefore th • Apostl • passeth all these things in silence, when he is to wri • e of purpose, to give a fulnesse of joy; for he know • that in them there is neither that joy, nor that fulnesse of joy he would wish for them; but it is other things he writes for this end.

Now indeed there hath been some wiser then others, that have their apprehension far above the rest of mankind, and have laboured to frame some rules and precepts to lead man into this true rest and tr • nquillity. And truly, in this they have done much to discover the vanity and madnesse of the common practice of men; and to draw man from sensible and outward thing • , to things invisible and spiritual; yet there is a defectivenesse in all the rules that natural reason can reach unto; there is some crookedness withall adhere • to them, which shews our departure from our original. There are many excellent discourse • of morality in Heathens W •• tings, which may be very subservient to a Christian, • nd useful to the composing and settling of his mind, • midst all the fluctu • tions and uncertainties of this world: they may come well in as Subsidie • and Guards to a Christians heart, to preserve that peace and joy it hath from God, • nd keep out the ordinary tumultuous passions • hat disturb the most part of men: But here is the lamentable failing, that while they call • man off things without, as • dventitious, they lead him but in to his own spirit within, as if he could there find that rest in the very enjoyment of his poor miserable wretched self. but Christ Jesus calls us in to our own spirits, not to dwell there; • or O, what a loathsome and irksome habit • tion is a defiled heart, and a guilty conscience? but rather that finding nothing of that joy and refreshment within, we may then freely and fully fo • sake our selves, as well as the world without▪ and transport in to God in Christ, the only habitation of joy and delight, that being filled with anguish from the world, and from our selves, we may more willingly divorce from both, and agree to joyn unto Jesus Christ, and to imbrace him in our hearts, who is the only fountain of life and joy; who had no other errand and businesse from Heaven, but to rep • ir mans joy, as grievous a breach a • any in the Creation: • thing as much missed and sought after, as • ny thing, ye • , sought • ster in all things that are so • ght: Ioh. 15.11. These things I have spoken to you tha • your joy may be full. Therefore the Apostle propound • this as the end of his writing on thi • subject, the word of life, these things I write that your joy may be full, and the way to attain this fulness of joy, he expressed in the former verse, by fellowship with the Father and the Son.

That which mak • s all other things disproportioned to the soul of man, to give it this joy, is the extream unsuitablenesse between them; that the soul hath • n infinit c • pacity, and besides • n immortality of endur • nce, but they are condemned under impotency to supply that infinit void; and inconstancy by which they must needs pe • ish, and leave the soul without all comfort, and with more anxiety. But in these things written here, we find all things suited and proportioned to the very great exigence of the soul. There is a ••• tablenesse in them, because of their spiri ••• l n • ture, whereby they may close immediatly with thy spirit, other things are material, and corporeal, and what union, what fellowship can a spirit be supposed to have with them? they are extrinsick, advenient things, that never come to a nearer union with thy soul; and though they co • ld, they would debase thy soul, and not ex • lt it, because of a baser inferiour Nature. But these thing • , Iesus Christ, eternal life in him, these precious promises of the Gospel, these spiri •• al priviledges of sonship, &c. these are of • more d • vin • n • ture, and by med • tation and 〈…〉 come to close with them: These are inward things, more near the soul that believes, then himself is to himself; and so he may alwayes carry them about in his • eart, which may be • spring of everlasting joy, this no m • n c • n take from him, Joh. 16 • 2. For the ground • nd fountain is inward, seated without the • each o • all thes • vicissitude • and change • : The • a • they have • s • itablenesse, so they have a fulnesse in them, to creat fulnesse of joy▪ They are cordi • l • to the he • rt, things that are in • heir own nature refreshing to the soul, and ap • to b • ge • heart-joy. O • her thing • are not suitable to thi • , to produce any suc • inward • oul-comp •• cency; the things that are from without, •• ac • not so deep as the heart, they make their impressions rather on the outwa • d senses, to • ickle and please them, or the countenance, to put • ome pleasing sh • pe upon it: but the wise man pronoun ••• h all the • e joys that a • ise from external things▪ to be • upe • ficiall, only skin-deep, in the midst of laught • r the heart is sorrowful, and the end of that mirth is he • vinesse, Prov. 14.13. Ex • rema gaud • luctus occupat. There is no solid recreation to the soul, in its retired thoughts from all the delights of the senses: it is but like the pleasure of the itch, which no man es • eems pleasure. But besides, as the things of the Gospel affect the heart and soul, by bringing soul-mercie • , and treasures, as fo • given • sse of sin, hope of Heaven, &c. so there is a fulnesse in them, which may answerably fill all the corners of the heart with joy; there is an unexhaustednesse in these things, an universality in Christ, all in all, all the treasures of wisdom are in him: and may not this cause surely an •• gh spring tide of joy. The heart is eased upon the lowest clear apprehension of Christ and the Gospel, it gives a hea • t-serenity and c • lmnesse to a troubled soul, that nothing else could do, yet to make up the fulnesse of joy, as well as the solidity of it; to extend the measure of it, as well as to beget the true q • ality of it; it is requisite • hat not only there be a f • lnesse in the object, that is full, superabundant, ample matter of rejoycing; but there must be a kind of fulnesse in the app • ehension, it must be rep • esented fully as it is, and the clouds of unbelief scattered; and then indeed, upon the full aspect of the Gospel, and Christ in it, there is a fulnesse of joy that flows in to the soul, as the Sea is filled upon the full aspect of the Moon. Oh, that we could believe this, that there is a fulnesse of joy here, and no where else; certainly this • lone being pondered and sunk into our hearts, would be a powe • f • l refo • mer in us, and among us; How would it carry mens hearts to a disgracing and despising all the things that are held in admiration by men? How would it turn the channel of mens judgments, opinions, affections, an • conversations? for certainly whithersoever the Tide of joy flows, thither the heart is carried, and it is that all men are seeking, though they take many contrary and diverse wayes, as their own fancy leads them. Now if once this were established in thy soul, that here is that truth • nd fulnesse of joy, which elsewhere is ignorantly and vainly • ought; would it not divert thy desires, and turn the current of thy affections and endeavour • , to • all into this Ocean of gladnesse and delight? Elsewhere there is neither true joy, nor full joy, nec verum nec plenum gaudium; there is no verity in it, it is but an external garb and sh • dow, and there is no plenty or fulnesse in it; it fills not the hand of the reaper, it satisfieth not his very hunger. But here, when a soul is possessed with Christ by faith, and dwelleth in God by love, there is both reality • nd plenty: all the dimensions of the heart may be filled up; Some allegorize upon the triangular composition of mans heart, that no orbicular thing, such as this world, can fill it exactly without vacuity, but only the blessed and holy Trinity. Truly we may conceive, this fulnesse of joy, excluding all the latent griefs of the heart, and filling up all the vacant corners, doth flow from that blessed fellowship of the Father and the Son. Now though these two be only mentioned, yet the Holy Ghost must not be excluded, for the Apostolick Prayer doth attribute chiefly our fellowship with God to the Spirit, so that it is the Spirit units our hearts, and associats them to God, that seems to correspond between him and us: So then there is such a fellowship with the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, that leaves no vacuity in the heart, that fills all the dimensions and corners of it with peace and joy.

But add unto this, in the third place, that these things have not only a fulnesse, but withal a durablenesse; not only plenty, but besides, eternity and perpetuity, to correspond to the immortality of the soul; And this certainly is • great congruity, and so makes up much beauty and harmony; for what more incongruous and unsuitable, then for an immortal spirit to spend it self, and give up it self to that which is not▪ which must le • ve • t, whi •• is mo • t • l, and • ading in its own nature, without whic • , it must continue infinitly longer then it can enjoy it? And what more comely, then for an immortal thing to • ssociat to eternal things, and • o derive it • joy from an eternal spring? For then, when all things vi • ible a • e done away, and things mortal abolished, then its joy none can take from it; because it t • kes its joy from that, which must survive all these changes. Suppose any thing could for the pre • ent give a fulness of joy, and absolute content to the heart, yet if we imagine that thing may be separated and disjoyned • rom the heart, and cease to be, certainly the ve • y expectation of such an ete • nal separation, would almost extinguish all the joy, and make it dry up of the fulnesse: For, may a soul think, What shall I do for ever when this Well dryes? Whence shall I draw water of joy? Out of what Well? But now, that fear is removed, and the soul need • not losse the swee • ness of the present enjoyment of God, through anxious foresight of the future, because he may know, th • t the perfect fulnesse that shall never ebb, is but coming, and the Sun is but ascending yet towards the Meridian, from whence he shall never go down, but stand fixed, to be the eternal wonder and delight of Angel • and men.

Now though it be true, that Christians here, have neither that plenty, nor that perpetuity of this joy, that the object of it gives ground for; though their hearts be often filled with g • iefs and sorrows, partly from outward, partly from inward evils and afflictions; yet certainly this ariseth but from the dark apprehension, dim belief, and slight consideration of these things that Christ spoke, and his Apos • les wrote unto us; We might, no question, keep ou • hearts in more peace and tranquillity, in all the commotions of the times, or alterations in our selves, if we did more stedfastly believe the Gospel, and keep mo • e constant fellowship with God. But however it be, there is radically a fulnesse of joy in every believers heart, that seed is sown, that shall one day be • ipe of fulnesse of joy, it is alwayes lying at the root, and reserved for them. O, let us lay these things to heart, which being laid to heart, and laid up in the heart, will fill it with this sweet fragrant perfume of peace and joy▪ They are written for this end, let us hear them for this end too, that our joy may be full. It i • true indeed, that this fulnesse of joy suits only the lise to come, when the vessel is both inl • rged • nd strengthned to contain it: Things that have strong spirits in them, must have strong n • w bottle • , such as our cr • zy mortal bodies are no • ; therefore the Lord hath reserved the just fulnesse, the overflowings of this joy, for the time that the soul shall be purified from all sin, and the body delive • ed from all corruption: Because that s • n lurks in many corners of the heart now, therefore this joy cannot fill up the heart, and all the vacuities of it; for it is of so pure and heavenly a nature, that it will not compou • d an • inte • mingle wi • h sin, or sinful lusts; but when nothing of th • t remains in the heart, then it flows-in apace, and leaves no corner of the heart unsatisfied and unsupplied. I would have you, who get some tastes of this joy and peace by the way, not di • quieted and troubled, because it abides not to be ordin •• y • ood; if you be set down again to your ordinary spare dyet of Mann • in the Wildernesse, and have not these fi • st f • uits and G • apes of Canaan often sent to you; think it n • t st • ange, • or the fulnesse which you • eek, you are not capable of here, but you sh • ll be c • pable of it hereafter. You ought with patience to wait • or that day, when your joy shall be fall, as Christ is full, full measure, heaped up, and running over, will he me •• out unto you then: and this • hall be without the fear of any ebb or diminution of it for all eternity; neither shall this fulnesse, and cons • ant fulnesse, cloy the soul, or breed any satiety in it: there is fulnesse of joy without surfeit, without satiety; that which th • y hav • , they shall alwayes desire, and • hat which th • y desire, they shall alwayes have: everlasting desi • e, and everlasting delight, being married together in their • ulnesse. But yet so much is a • tainable h • re, • s may truly be called fulnesse, in regard of the world; The fulnesse of joy that • ll the pleasures of this earth can afford, is but sca • cety and want, to the inward fulnesse o • joy and contentation, • he poorest believers may have in God, reconciled in Christ. That which the wise man gives as the character of all earthly joy, • uits well, I said of laughter, it is mad, and of mirth, wh • t doth it? Eccl. 2.2. Truly it can • ot be supposed to be more • eal, then that which is the ground and spring of it. I • must be a perfunct •• ious, superficial, and empty joy, that is derived and distil • ed from such vanities. Nay, there is a madnesse in it besides, for mens apprehensions to swell so excessively, towards poor, narrow, and limited things; it is a monster in reason, to put such value upon nothing, and make our selves glad upon our own dreams and • ancies; There is such a manifest abuse and violation of re • son in it, • hat it can be supposed to proceed • rom nothing but a distemper in men • hearts. But be • ides • his, there are two other characters of it given, Prov. 14.13. Even in l • ughter the heart is sorrowful, and the end of that •• rth is heavinesse. There is no pure earthly joy; for it hath alwayes a mixture of grief and sadnesse in the • oward retired closet of the heart; it is of such deadnesse and inefficacy, that it drives no • out of the heart all discontentments and anxieties; but is the most jovial man, that seem • to be transported with his delights, would but retire within, and examine his own conscien • e, • e would find those delights have but little power to affect his heart; he would find terrible and dreadful represent • tions there, that his joyes may well for a time darken them, bu • cannot drive them away: and then it is the ve • y natural law, and fatal necessity, th • t grief follows these joys at the heels, yea, is pe • petually attending them, to come in their place; God hath so conjoyned them together, and so disposed them, that mens j • y shall be mingled with grief, but their g • ief is pu • e and unmixed; and that he who draws up joy to him from the creatures, must draw g • ief and vexation in that same chain, inseparably annex • d to it by the wise ordination of God.

But there are joys of the Holy Ghost, arising from the intimati • n and app • ehension of th • Gospel, from the consideration • f the grace and goodnesse of God manifested in it, and the experience of that in the soul, which are of • nother stamp and nature. These indeed affect th • heart, and give the answer of a good con •• ience, in th • blood of Christ, which is a continual feast; these drive out the bitter and dreadful apprehensions of sin and wrath; these sweeten and refr • sh th • soul in all wo • ldly afflictions and g • iefs: The heart of man kn • weth his own bitternesse, and a stranger doth not intermeddle with his joy, P • ov. 13.10. Indeed, the to • ments and perplexities of a troubled soul, are better felt by themselve • , t • en known by others, and so are the joys of th • t heart that • pprehends Jesus Christ, and peace p • rchased in him, they a • e such, as no man that is a stranger to such thing • in his experience can app • ehend. It is a joy u • speakable; O what un • peakable content gives it to the heart. And truly if you did not interpose the clouds of unbelief and sin between you and his shining countenance, there needed not be so often an Eclipse in the joys of believers; yet the day is coming that ye shall see him fully as he is, and nothing be interposed between you and him, and then your joy sh • ll be full, &c.

SERMON IX· 1 Joh. 1.5.

This then is the message which we have heard of him, and declare unto you, that God is light, &c.

THe great design of the Gospel is to make up the breach of mans joy, and open up the way to the fulnesse of it: and therefore it is the good news and glad •• dings of great joy, the only best message that ever came to the world. Now it shews unto us the channel, that this river of gladnesse and joy runs into; it discovers what is the way of the conveyance of it to the soul, and what are the banks it runs between, and that is, fellowship with the Father and the Son. In this channel that river of delight runs, between the banks of the love of God to us, and our love to him. Herein a soul is happy, and accounts it self happy; and truly, in so much do we profite by the Word, and answer the design of the Gospel, by how much we estimat our happiness from this alone, from the communication of God to u • . Whensoever the Gospel take • hold of your hearts, it will undoub • edly frame them to this, to a measu • ing of all blessednesse from God alone: and this will carry the heart to an undervaluing of all other things, as being too low, and unworthy for this end; and so to a forsaking of any thing for the closser enjoyment • f God. I fea • many believers are little acquainted with this joy, because they draw not their joy singly out of the pure fountain of delight; but turn aside to other external comf •• ts, and drown their souls in them. Now indeed, these two cannot well consist • ogether, if we • ake in any thing else to make up our happinesse and comfort, so much we lose of God and that which is • ruly spiritual; and therefore our hearts would be more purified from carnal delights, if we would have experience of this joy: we must hang only upon his countenance and company, el • e we lose the swe • tnesse of it.

Now the Apostle prosecutes this further, to discover what confo • mity must be betwee • them that should keep this fellowship; • nd wh • t likenesse of n • ture and qualities is nec • ssary for them who would be happy in Gods society. This is the message we have heard (saith he) • nd which we declare unto you, that God is light, &c. T • ke this joyntly, with that which went before; This we declare, that ye may have fellowship with the Father, and the Son. And to the end this fellowship may hold, and yeeld you fulnesse of joy, it is necessary that the nature of God be laid down, a • the patte • n to which ye must be conform. God is light, and therefore you must be light too, if ye would have fellowship with that pure light. Now this, I say is the full message of the Gospel, that which was sent down from Heaven, with the Son of God, the M • ssenger of the Covenant, and which the Apostles heard from him; Indeed the very manner of the proposal of these things might stir up our hearts to attention, and make us more serious then commonly we are, That there is one, and such an one sent from Heaven, with such an embassage as this is, to invite us to society with God again, one whose interest lyes in this, to make us happy; and this he declares unto us, that he hath no other design, but to fulfill our joy. O how powerful might this be on our hearts, to conquer them, to make them willingly hearken to him? Any mess • ge that comes from Heaven, should be received with great reverence and respect of mortal men; because it comes from the Court and Palace of the Great King. But when this i • the substance of it, to make us happy in himself, to advance us to this incomparable dignity of society with himself, in which society there is a fulnesse of joy; then how should we receive it with open hea • ts, and intertain it gladly? If we could take it alwayes thus, as a message from Heaven, and look upon it, and hear it in that notion, I think the fruit would be incomparably greater; for what i • it that makes it dead and ineffectual in mens hearts, but that the apprehension of it degene • ats and falls down from God to creatu • e • , beca •• e it is not taken so as his wo • d, carrying the s • amp of his divine authority: We bring it forth, n • t as a mes • age • rom him, but as f • om our selves; and you receive it not as from him, but from us; an • thus it is adulte • ated and corrupted on both hands. My beloved, let us joyntly mind this, that whatsoever we have to declare, it is a message from God to mortal men; and therefore let us so compose our selves in his sight, as if he were speaking to us. The conscience of a very Heathen was awaked, when Ebu • told him he had a message from G • d to him: E • lon arose out of his se • t, that he might hear it reverently, Iudg. 3.20. though it was a bloody message, as it proved in the event; yet so much the common dictats of reason might teach you, that ye should a • ise, and compose your selves to • eve • ent and awful attention to what the Lord God will speak. But when moreover we know that the sum of the message is, to make us blessed, and raise us up to communion with him in his joy and happinesse; we are not only called to reverence, a • to God, but to ardent af • ection and desi • e, as to him who by all means seeks ou • happinesse. O how happy were he that could fi • st hear, and receive this message f • om him, and then decla • e it to others. But however, though we should fail in that, this doth not c • ange either the authority, or nature of the mess • ge it self; and therefo • e, i • men should be so far des • itute o • God, as not to bring it from him immediatly, yet do not you • orsake your own mercy too; but receive it as that which is come forth f • om God; receive it for it sel • , as carrying in its bosome a fulnesse of joy to you; and receive it fo • his sake who moved this embassage first after sinners, and his sake who car • ied it to sinners, that is, for the Father, and the Son; to whose fellowship you are here invited. Let us then hear the m • ssage:

This then is the mess • ge, that God is light, &c. The ground o • communion o • persons, is their union in nature, or likenesse one to another. There is some general society between all mankind, as being conjoyned in one common nature; but the contracting of that in a narrower bounds of affinity and consanguinity, doth inlarge the affection the mo • e: you see it is natural for those who are joyned by such relations of blood one to another, to love one another more then others out of these bonds. But true friendship draws the c • rcle yet narrower, and contracts the love that is scattered abroad to mankind in a strange channel, to run towards one, or a few; and the foundation of this is some peculiar and particular si • ilitude, and likeness in manners, and sympathy of disposition, which makes the souls of men to melt one into another, after some conve • se and acquaintance together; this is the bond that knits this near society; some conformity necessarily presuppo • ed to communion and fellowship. Now th • t which holds so in the communion of man with man, must be much mo • e need • ul in man; communion with God: for all the societies, combinations, and conj • nctions of the creatures, are but shadows of this higher communicati • n of the spirit of man, with God the Father of spirits. And indeed we may find some rude dra • ghts and resemblances of this divine s • ciety, and of the rule according to which it must be modell'd, in all the friendly or near conjunctions of creatures; for every thing is best preserved, and agreeth best with things of its own nature: see the disposition of the parts of the world; things contiguous, and nearest other, are also likest in nature one to another, so it is • mong men, the several agreements, and symbolizing • of mens spirits in different qualities and tempers, makes several sorts of men, and parts them into so many companies: Pares paribus congregantur, simile simili gaudet.

Now, my beloved, this same supernatural and divine soc • ety that we speak of, must be constituted according to this fundamental rule, that is, It is necessary, to the end that God and man may have fellowship together, that they come nearer in likenesse one to another: now for God, you know he cannot be liker us, for he is unchangeably holy and good: That were most absurd, to bring down his Majesty to parta • e of our wretched inf •• mities of sin and darknesse. Indeed in this he hath come as far as his own nature and our good would permit, to communicat in our nature, and all the sinless infi • mities of it: It i • imp • ssible then that he should make up the distance by any change of himself, but we must be changed, and some way raised up to partake of the pu • ity of his nature, and be transformed into some likenesse to him, and then is the foundation of society and fellowship laid down: This is the Apostles meaning, in declaring to us what God is, that according to that pattern, and in that glasse, we may see what to con • orm our selves to, and may have a particular determination of the great qualification of these who pretend to fellowship with God: God is light, and in him i • no darknesse. Now take the just opposition, man is da • knesse, and in him is no light. Now what communion then can light have with da • knesse? either the light must become darknesse, or the darknesse become light; either the light must leave its glorious purity, and fors • ke its nature, which cannot be admitted, or else the darknesse of mens souls must be wiped off, and abolished by the brightnesse of God • light; and then there may be a comm • nion between the primitive light, and the derivative light, between the o • iginal light, and that which flows out from the original. But take darknesse, remaining darknesse, and light, remaining light, and they cannot compone together; for t • e fi • st great separation that was m • de in the world, was between light and darknesse: And God saw that light was go • d, and God divided between the light and the darkness, Gen 1 4. And so it is imp • ssible f • r men that live in the d •• knesse of their minds, in ignorance, and in the da • knesse of sinfull lusts, that they can have any fellowship with God, who is a fountain of pure light, and undefiled • ancti • y. Wh • t hast thou to do to take my Covenant in thy mouth, &c. and this God saith to the wicked. It is an incongruous and unsuitable thing, for men to pretend nearnesse and interest in this God, and yet be buried in da • knesse and hatred of the light of personal reformation, as a Gold Ring in a Swines nose, that • ather deforms the Jewel, then beautifies the Beast: So are the pretensions of ignorant and wicked men, to this divine society, &c.

SERMON X· 1 Joh. 1.5.

This then is the message which we have heard of him, and declare unto you, that God is light, &c.

WHo is a fit messenger to declare this message? Can da • knesse comp • ehend the light, or apprehend it? O • can those that a • e blind, • orm any lively noti • n o • light, to the inst • uction and perswasion of othe • s? Truly, no more can we conceive or speak of God, who i • that pure light, then a blind man can discourse on colours, or a deaf man on sounds; Who is blind as the Lords servant? And therefore, who are more unmeet to declare this message of light? What reverence and godly fear ought this to be declared withal, when mortal man speaks of the eternal God unto mortal men? What composure of spirit should be in us? What trembling and adoration? For at our best we can but declare our own ignorance, and the furthest attainment in this knowledge, is but a further discovery of mans darknesse; we have three wayes of creeping towards that glorious light of God, fi • st, his own wo • ks are like some visible appearances of that invisible and incomprehensible God; and in these we know him, but not what he is in himself. Consider how dark • nd dull we are in piercing into the hidden natures of things, even below us, as Beasts and Plants: we behold some effects flow from them, but from wh • t principle these do flow, that we know not: How much lesse can we apprehend any thing suitable of the Divine M • jesty, that is i • finitly above us, from these won • e • ful and glorious wo • ks of his power and wisdom. Man is indowed with wisdom, to do some excellent works of A • t, as Planting, Gra •• ing, Building, Painting, Weaving, and such like. But the Be • sts that a • e b • low 〈◊〉 , cannot apprehend from these wo • ks what the nature of man is. Now is there not a more infinit distance, a greater disproportion between us and the Divine Nature, so that we cannot rise up to an understanding notion of it, in it self Nay, besides, one man will do many things which another cannot understand, he beholds th • Art of it, he sees the matter, but yet he canno • pierce into the mind o • the Work-man, and loo • upon that wisdom and idea of his mind: Therefore all that we can conclude from these wonderfull works of God, is some silent admiration of him. If these be such, th • n what must he be? How infinitly distant from th • m, and transcenden • over them? but what he is, these cannot declare, and we cannot apprehend. Then we use to climb up to the knowledge of God, by attributing to him all the perfections, excellencies, and eminencies of the creatures: whatsoever commends them, we apprehend that originally and infinitly in him; and thus we spell out that Name that is most simply one, in many Letters, and Characters, acco • ding to our mean capacity, as children when they begin to learn; so we ascribe to him wisdom, goodnesse, power, justice, holinesse, mercy, truth, &c. All which names being taken from the creatures, and so having significations suited to our imperfections, they must needs come infinitly short of him, and so our apprehensions of them: these are scattered among the creatures, therefore they cause diverse conceptions in us; but all these are united in him. He is a most simple, pure being, that eminently and virtually is all things; and properly is none of all.

Another way we have of apprehending him, by way of Negation, denying all the imperfections of the creatures, and removing them an infinit distance from him, and truly, though this be an imperfection in knowledge, yet it is the greatest knowledge we can attain to, to know rather what he is not, then what he is: He is not limited to any place, nor bounded with any measures and degre • s of perfection, as creatures are; therefore we call him Infinit: He is not comprehended within the limits of time, but comprehends all within himself; therefore he is Eternal: He is not subject to changes and alterations, therefore called Immutable: He is not compounded, as a result of diverse parts, therefore he is most purely Simple, and One: He is not like these things we see and hear, that fall under our senses; therefore we call him a Spirit, or a spiritual beeing. Now in all these weak endeavour • of man, to detain and fix his own spirit in the contemplation of God, if he cannot reach the understanding of what God is, yet certainly he will attain • his great point of wisdom, not to be ignorant of his own ignorance. And truly, my beloved, this is the thing that I would have us to learn to know, that the admiration of God in silence, is the best expression of him. We would not search into these mysteries, to satisfie our cu • iosity, but rather compose our hearts to a continu • l silent wondering before him▪ • or where our unde • standings are confounded, and ou • minds ove • whelmed with the infinitnesse of th • t glory, so that we can see nothing but our own ignorance of all; this should certainly compose all to quiet admiration; for silence and wonder is the proper and natural posture of a soul that is at a stand, and can neither win forward for inaccessible light, nor will retire backward for that it apprehends already.

This then is the m • ssage, that God is light. B • cause we cannot conceive in our poor narrow mind • , what God is in himself, therefore he expresseth to us often in sim • litudes to the creatures, and condescends to our capacity. As he stands in manifold relations to us, so he takes the most familiar Names, that may hold out to our dull senses what we may expect of him: therefore he calleth himself a Father, a King, a Husband, a Rock, a Bu • kler, and strong • ower, a Mountain, and wha • soeve • else may • epresent to our hea • ts that which may strengthen them in b • lieving. But there is no creature • o directly att • ibuted to God, as light: none used to express his very nature and being, a • a • stracted from these relations, but this, God is light, and Christ take • it to him • elf, the light of the world, and the life of men. The truth is, it hath some excellency in it above all other visible creature • , that it may fitly carry some resemblance to him. The Scripture calls light his garment, Psal. 104.2. and truly it is a more glo • io •• Rob of Majesty, then all the royall and Imperial Robs and Ga • ments of State, that either Angels or men could contrive. The light is, as it were, a visible appearance of the invisible God: He hath cove • ed his invisible nature with thi • glo • iou • Garment, to make himsel • in a manner visible to man. Its true, that light is, but a • it were, a shadow of that inaccessible light, umbra Dei. It is the dark shadow of God, who is himself infinitly more beautiful and glorious▪ But yet, as to us, it hath greater Glory and Majesty in it, then any creature besides. It is the chief of the works of God, without which the world would be without form, and void: it is the very beauty of the Creation, that which gives a lustre and amiablenesse to all that is in it, without which the pleasantest Paradise would become a Wildernesse, and this beautiful structure, and ado • ned P • lace of the World, • loathsome dun • eon. 〈◊〉 the admirable beauty of it, it hath a wond ••• ull swi •• convey • nce, throughout the whole wo • ld, the upper, and lower, in a moment, in the twinckling of an eye, it i • caried f • om the one end of heaven to the other in a mom • nt, and • ho c • n say by wh • t way the light is p • rt • l, Iob, 8 24. M •• eover it car • ies alongst with it • beautiful influence, and refreshing heat and warmnes • , which i • t • e very life and sub • istence of • ll the creatu • es below. And so, as there • s nothing so beautiful, so nothing so unive • sally and hig • ly p • ofitable; and to all this, add that • ingular •• operty of it, that it is n • t capable o • in • ection, it i • of such absolute pu • ity, th •• it can c • mmu • icat it self to the dung-hill, as we • l as to the Garden, without receiving any mixtu • e from it: In all the impu • ities it m • ets withall, it • emains unmixed, and un • ain • ed, and p • eserves its own nature intire. Now you may perceive that there is nothing visible that is fitter to resemble the invisi • le God, then this glor • ou • , be • utiful, pure, and unive • sally communi • able c • eature, Light.

Hereby you may have shadowed out unto you the nature of God, that he is an all-knowing, intelligent beeing, as light is the first and p • incipal visible thing; yea, that which gives visibility to all things: and so is in its own nature a manifestation of all things material and bodily, so God is the fi • st object of the understanding: primum intelligib • le, & primum intelligens. Nothing • o fit • n embleme of knowledge, as light, and truly in that respect God is the original light, a pure intellectual light, that hat • in himsel • the perfect idea and comprehension of • ll things; he hath • nticipated in himself the knowledge of all, because all things were formed in his infinit understanding, and lay, as it were, first hid in the bowels of his infinit power. Therefore he is a Glob or Mass of light and knowledge, like the Sun, from whom nothing is hid; He •• and destruction are not covered to him, the • e i • no opacity, no darknesse or thicknesse in the creation, that can terminat or bound this light, or hinder his understanding to pierce into it. Now all things by the irradiation of the light become visible, so the participation of this gloriou • Sun of Righteousnesse, • nd the shining of his be • ms into the souls of men, makes them to partake of that heavenly intellectual nature, and • eflects a wonderful be • uty upon them, which i • not in the • est of the world.

Besides, here is represented to us the absolut • purity and perfection of Gods Nature, God i • light, and in him is no darknesse; Besides the purity of the light of knowledge, there is • purity of the beauty of holinesse, the glorious light of God his vertue, and power, and wisdom, is communicated to • ll the creatures, there is an universal extent of hi • influence towards the good • nd bad, as the Sun shine • on both, and yet there is n • spot or stain upon his holinesse or righteousnesse, from all his intermingling with the creatures, the wo • st and b •• est c • eatures. All his works are holy and righteous, even his wo • ks in unholy and unrighteous men; he draws no defilement from the basest of the creatures, nor yet from the sinfulnesse of it: He can be intimatly present, and conjoyned in working, in vertu • and power, in care and providence, with the dirt and mi • e of the streets, with the beasts of the field, and yet that is no stain upon his honour or credit, as men would suppose it to be; no more then it is a dishonour to the Sun to shine on the dung-hill; in a word, there is no mixture of ignorance, darknesse, impurity, or iniquity in him, not the least shadow of ch • nge, or turning, not the le • st seed of imperfection; in regard of him the Moon is not clean, and the Sun i • spotted; in respect of his holiness, Angel • may be charged with folly.

Then add unto this, to make up the resemblance fuller, the bounty and benignity of his influence upon the world, the flowings forth of his in •• nit goodnesse, that inricheth the whole earth: look as the Sun is the greatest and most universal benefactor, his influence and heat is th • very renovation of the world, it makes • ll new, and green, and flourishing; it puts a youth upon the world, and so is the very spring and fountain of life to • ll sub •• nary things. How much is that true of the true light, of the substantial, of whom this Sun is but a shadow, He is the life of the world, and the light of men. Every good gift and every perfect donation descends from him, Jam. 1.17. • is influence is more universal to the beeing, to the moving, to the living of all things. And then Iesus Christ the Sun of Righteousnesse is ca • ried a • o • t in the Orb of the Go • spel, and in his beams there is a healing vertue; t • e • e are the refreshment o • poor wea • ied soul • that a • e scorched with the anger of God. There i • an admirable heat and wa • mnesse of love and affection, that this glorious light carries embosomed in it, and that is it that pierces into souls, and warms hearts, and quickens dead spirits, and puts a new face upon all again. This is the spring of all the life that is truly spiritual; and it hath as sweet and comfo • tabl • effects upon the souls of men, who receive the truth in love, the light in love, that is, the light with heat, as ever-the Sun approaching • ear the earth, hath had upon plants • nd living creatures.

And to compleat the resemblance more, there may be something of the infallibility, and incomprehensibili • y of the Divine M • jesty here represented; for though nothing be • learer then the light, yet there is nothing in it • own natu • e darke • then light: That which is so manifest to the eyes, How obs • ure is it to the understanding▪ M • ny debates an • inqui • ies have been abou • it, but yet it is n • t known wh • t t • at is, by which we know all things. Cer • ainly, such i • the Divine Light: It i • inconceivable, and inexpressible, there • ore he is • aid to dwell in light inac • essible, and full of glory, 1 • im. 6.16. There is a two- • o • d da • knesse that hinder • u • to see God, a da • knesse of igno • ance in u • , and a da • kne •• of inaccessible light in him: the one is a vail upon our hearts, w • ich blinds and darkens the souls of men, that they do not see that which is manifest of God, even in hi • works. O that cloud of unbelief that is spread over o • r soul • , which hinder • the glorious • ayes of that Divine Light to shine into them. Thi • darknesse S • tan contribute • much to, who is the Prince of darkn • sse, 2 Cor. 4.4. this makes the most part of souls like dungeons within, when the glorious light of the Gospel surrounds them without: this earthlinesse and carnality of our hearts, makes them like the earth, receive only the light in the upper and outward supe • fice, and not suffer it to be • ransmitted into our h • arts, to change them. But when it pleaseth him, who at the fi • st, by a word of power, commanded light to shine out of d • rknesse, he can scatter that cloud of ignorance, • nd draw away • he vail of unbelief, and can by hi • power • nd art so transform the soul, a • to •• mo • e its earthly quality, and make it transpa ••• t and pure, and then the light will s • ine in to 〈◊〉 heart, 〈◊〉 get free accesse into the soul. But ••• ough this da • kn • s • e we • e wholly removed, •• ere is anothe • da • knesse, that ariseth not f • om • he wan • o • light, but •• om the exc • ssive supe • - • bundance o • light; Caligo 〈◊〉 nimiae, that is, a divine da • kness • , a da • knesse o • glory, such an infini • exc • sse and superplus • f light • nd glory, above all created capaci • ies, that it daz • es and c • nfound • all ••• tal or created unde • standing • . We 〈◊〉 s • me shad • ws o • • his, if we look up to t • e clear Sun; we are able to see nothing • or too much light, there is such an infinit disproportion he • e between the eye of our mind, and this di • ine light of glory, that if we cu • iously p • y • nto it, it is ra • her c • nfounding and astonishing; and therefore it fills the souls of Saints with continual silent admi • ation and adoration.

SERMON XI· 1 Joh. 1.5.

This then is the message which we have heard of him, and declare unto you, that God is light, and in him is no darknesse at all.

TRue Religion consists not only in the knowledge of God, but especially in conformity to him, and communion with him. Communion and fellowship with God is the great end and design of the Gospel, and it is the gre •• resul • of all a Chri •• ian • pain • and progresse; it i • not only the greatest part of Religion, b • t the ve • y • eward of Religion too; • or piety hath its reward of happine • s in the bosome o • it, without borrowing f • om exte • nal things. Now th • t which this sweet and fragrant f • uit whic • per • ume • all the soul with delight, and • ills it with joy, springs out o • , is, Conformity to G • d, a •• imilation o • natu • e • nd dispo • ition, some likenesse to God imprinted on t • e soul again in holy affections and di • positions, a co-incidency o • our will with the will of God, a drow • ing of it in the sea of his good pleasu • e, his Law in the inwa • d pa • ts. Now what is the root of this co • • o • mity, but the knowledge of God? this is that which hath a ve •• ue to tran •• o • m the soul into his similitude: You see then whe • e t • ue Religion begins lowest, and by what means it grows up to the sweet fruit of that eternal joy that shall be pressed out of the G • apes of fellowship with God: • o then whatsoever is declared of God unto u • in hi • Wo • d, whatsoever is holden • orth of him, it is not only set forth to be the subject o • our knowledge, but especially to be a patte • n for imitation, and to be an inflaming motive to our affection; This is the very substance of the ver • e.

This then is the mess • ge, I declare that God is light, and this I hea • d not • rom Christ only for the • atisfaction of my curiosity, nor do I declare it to you only that you may know it, as if you had no more to do wit • it, but especi • lly that ye may know what ye ought to be in conformity to that light; the end o • your knowing God, i • to become liker God, if so be ye would have communion with him.

Let us take this rule then, to measure all our sea • chings a • ter God, and inquirings into him; ce •• ainly there ought to be more meditation, and inquiry of heart upon this subject, because it is the • pring of all life to the soul; it is that which en • icheth it most, and fills it with peace, joy, and delight, and brings in a treasure into a man • hea • t, • uch a • Christ speaks of; A good man out of the good treasure of his heart, &c. Medication, much meditation on God, a stayednes • and fixedness of spi • it upon him, layes up a treasu • e in the heart; this is it that makes such a dif • e • ence between the heart and mouth of a righteou • man, and a wicked man; the heart of the wicked is little worth, for the total want of this; and there • ore their lips and tongues are void of edification, full of corruption. But where this spring floweth within, it maketh th • mouth of a man like a well of life; it maketh his lips li • e choise silv • r. O, the scantnesse and neglect of this amongst Christians, makes all to wither and decay: there is little searching after the Almighty, little imploying and intertaining our spirits about him; low, slender, and single thoughts and app • ehensions o • him, which c • nnot but cause a deliquium and dec • y in all the part • of Christianity, wh • n the v • ry Sun is ••• pled from us by our ign •• ance, and inc • nsidera • ion of • im: and that so long, it must have dreadful eff • ct • upon us. Therefore let us be exhorted to this study, to give our spi • its to this imployment, to think mo • e on G • d. But as I was saying, there is need of • • ule to me • sure us in it, • nd of some caution about it, that i • , th • t we have our end • ightly established, wha • we • im at in enq • iring after, or meditating upon God. If it be only to give intertainment to the curiosity of our mind • , as in the c • ntemplation of natural things, if it be • nly to p • y into secrets and mysterie • , and to labour to comprehend th • t which is incomp • ehensible, then we lose our labour, and we a • e in danger to meet with • consuming fi • e, instead of instructing and re • reshing light. I would therefore have this g • arded against, the insatiable desire and greedine •• e of our minds after the knowledge of secret mysteries. We must set bound • here, and not over-stretch or strain our und •• standings, to compasse his infinit beeing, as it is in it self: let us rather take him up as he i • revealed in the Scripture • , and so meditate • n him • s manifested in hi • Word and W • rks, hi • G •• ce, Mercy, Power, Wi • dom, &c. and read hi • name with delight in these la • ge volumes spread be • ore our eyes, &c.

Now the just measuring and regulating of all knowledge of God, is to direct it to a further end, to have nothing before us but this, that we may reve • ence, 〈◊〉 , and • ove him so much the more: and t •• s is the t • ing t •• t make • h acc •• s to him most easie and sweet, when • he design a soul h • t • , in a • l it • • e •• chings about him, is for thi • purpose, • o the end it may love him, and wo • ship him mo • e • ui •• bly, and be mor • c • n • o • med to him, when he is looked upon as • p • tte • n o • our con • o • mi • y, that is the • ight apprehension and up-taking of him, to know that God is light, and so to know i • , a • in it to behold the neces • ity of what qualification should be in us, that is indeed to know God. My beloved, let us co ••• der th • t so much we know of God, as we love him, and fe • r him, and are conformed unto him: f • r that knowledge which is not about this work and design; it is for no other purpose, but to be a wi • ness against a man, and the most hai • ous aggravation of his sins.

To come then to the pa • ticular in hand, God is light, and that is holden out and declared for this end, that there may be a pattern of the qualification of all that intend to enter into that society; if ye would have fellowship with God, then consider what you ingage into, what manner of person he is, for • he inti • at knowledge of one another, is presupposed to all constant friendship: You must know then what God is, if ye would have communion with him, because there is no communion without some conformi • y, • nd no conformity without knowledge of him. Therefore as he is ligh • , so the soul must be made • ig • t in • im, and enlightned by him, that would have hi • • ociety: w • must b • transformed into that natur • , and made children of light, who were child • en of da • knesse. Now as there is a light of understanding, and wisdome in God, and a light of • olinesse and purity, so there is in our souls opposite to these▪ a da • knesse of ignorance and unbelief, and a da • kne •• of sin, and impurity of affections. Now what communion can light have with darknesse? Let every man ask this at his own heart, i • there be no happinesse without this society, and no possibility of this society, while I remain in da • kness▪ then is it not high time to come to the light? This then is the fi • st change that is made in a soul, the da • knesse of ignorance and unbelief is driven out, by the approach of that gloriou • light of the Gospel into the heart, then is discovered unto the soul that defo • mity of sin, that loathsomnesse in it self, that it never apprehended: then there is a manifestation of the hidden works of darknesse, of the desperat wickednesse of the heart, which lay un-observed, and unsuspected all the while, and now a man cannot in th • t view but abhor himself, for that which none else can see in him. And there is withal manifested that glorious holinesse and purity in God, that inviolable righteousnesse, that omnipotent power, which formerly were never seriously thought upon; now these are represented to the life before a sinner • and to close up all, there is a manifestation of the grace and goodnesse of God in Ch • ist, which di • covers a way o • salvation, and delivery • rom • in and wrath; and this perfumeth • nd ref • esheth all the faculties of the soul. Thu • the soul is in a part conformed to that original light, when a beam is sent from it, and hath pie • ced into the heart, and scattered the darknesse, that did alienat the minds of men f • om God. But it i • not only an illumination of th • fore-face, • nd outer-side of the soul, not only a conviction of the judgment in these things, but by vertue of that divine heat that is transmitted with the light of the Gospel, the soul is purified and cleansed from it • g • osser nature, and so i • made transparent, that the light may shine into the very inwards of the hea • t; and this is th • special point of c • nformity to God, to have our souls purged from the da • kness of sinful, earthly, and muddy • ffections, to have them purified by the light of God, from all the works and lust • of da • knesse, and the shining beauty of holy • ffections and inclinations, to succeed and fill up the vacant room. If knowledge only reside in our brains, • nd send not down warm beam • to quicken and inflame the heart, then it is bar • en and unfruitful, it is cold and unprofitable. If it hover only alone in our heads, and keep a motion there, but send down no refreshing showre • to the affections, which may make us abound in good fruits, then it is like the windy clouds, • louds without rain, th • t p • sse away without any benefit to the thi • sty ground. Let us then take thi • alongs with u • , let the impression of this description of the Divine Majesty abide on our he • rts. God is light, and if we often ruminat, and ponder on this, I think i • will make us often to • efl • ct upon our selves, how we are darkness • , and this will bre • d some care • ulnesse and de • ire in the soul, how to have this da • kness removed, that there may be a soul capa • le of divine illust • ation This is it that advanceth the soul to the n ••• est conformity with God, the looking often upon God, till our souls be inlightned, and our hearts purified, and this • g • in puts the soul in the nearest cap • city for t •• t blessed co •• un • on with God. Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God ▪ Mat. 5.8. T • uly▪ it i • not p • ofoundness of ingine, it is not • cuten • sse and sharpnesse of wit, it is not pregnancy in unde • standing, or emin • ncy in parts, that will dispose the soul to this blessed vision of God, and f • ame it to a capacity of fellowship with him; no, there need • no extraordina • y part • for this, nothing but that the heart be purified from corruptions, those inward earthly qualities, that are like so many vitious and grosse humou •• , filling the organ of the sight, these, pride, conceit, self-love, p • ssi • n, anger, mali • e, • nvy, s •• ife, covetousnesse, love of pleasures, ambition, these, I say, that possesse the hearts of the most excellent natural spirits, casts a mist upon ••• ir eyes, and 〈◊〉 them to see G • d, or enjoy that delig •• in •• m, that • ome poor, weak, and igno • an • cr • ature • , who • e hearts the Lo • d hath pu • g • d •• om sin, do find in God. The • efo • e, i • any o • • ou ha • e an aim at this, to have fellowship with God, know both • or your di • ection, and you • incou • agement, that God is l ght: for your di • ection, because that must be your pattern, and if you have no study that way, to be like him in holin sse, you shall not see him. But▪ take it likewise for an incouragement, for that stile carrie • not only the necessity of what he must be, but it holds out likewise the foun • ain and store-house of all our qualifications, for God is light, the original, primitive light, all must borrow of him, and that light is f • eely and impa • tially communicable to poor sinners: With thee is the fountain of life, and in thy light shall we s • e light. Let a soul that app • ehends its own da • knesse and distance from him, thus incourage it self, my light is but a beam derived f • om his light, and there is no want in him: He is a Sun of • ighteousnesse, if I shut • ot up my hea • t th • ough unwillingnesse and unbelief, if I desi • e not to keep my sin • , but would be pu • ged from them, then that glorious light may shin • without stop and impediment in to my hea • t: He is not only light in his own nature, but he is a light to us, and if he please to remove that which is interposed between him and us, it shall be day-light in our hearts again. Thus a • oul may strengthen it self to w • it on him, and by looking thus up to him, and fixing on him, we shall be enlightned, and our faces not be ashamed.

SERMON XII· 1 Joh. 1.6.

If we say that we have fellowship with him, and walk in darknesse, we lie, &c.

THere is nothing in which men suffers themselves to be so easily deceived, as in thi • highest concernment of Religion, in which the ete • nal interest of their • ouls lyes: there is no delusion either so grosse, or so universal, in any other thing, as in this thing, in regard of which, all other things are nothing. This hath overspread the world, (to speak only of that part which pretends to Ch • istianity) a strong, pertinacious, • nd blind • ancy of being in Jesus Christ, and having interest in salvation. I call it a blind and ignorant • ancy, for truly ignorance and d • rknesse is the strong • st foundation of such conceits: Papists call it the mother of devotion; it is true, in this sense it is the mother of a mans groundles • devotion towards himself, that is, of delusion: this, together with self-love, which always hood-wink • the mind, and will not suffer • serious impartial examination of a mans self, these I say, are the • ottom of this vain perswasion, that possesseth the generality of men. Now what it wants of knowledge, it hath of wilfulnesse, it is a conceit altogether void of reason, but it is so wilfull, and pertinacious, that it is almost utterly inconvincible, and so it puts souls in the most desperat fo • lo • n estate that can be imagined, it makes them, as the Apostle speaks, Ephes. 5.6. 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 , children of imperswasion, it is rendered commonly children of disobedience, and indeed they are joyned together, they are children of disobedience, carrying the manifest characte •• of wrath upon them; yet they are withall, children of imperswasion, uncapable of any perswasion contrary to these deluding insinuations of their own minds, though they be manifest to all men to be sons of disobedience, living in rebellion against God, yet it is not possible to perswade them of it; they are as far from conviction of what they are, as reformation to what they should be. Notwithstanding if men would but give • n impartial and attentive ear to what the Apostle sayes here, I suppose the very frame of his argument is so convincing, that it could not but leave some impression: If any thing will convince a child of imperswasion, the terms here propounded • re fittest, God is light, and in him is no darknesse. Hence it follows by inavoidable consequence, as clear as the light, that no man can have fellowship with God, that walks in darknesse.

Those that delude themselves in this matter, are of two kinds, the generality pretend to Christianity in general, and to an interest in salvation, but if we descend into the chief parts and members of Christianity, as holiness, fellowship with God, walking after the Spirit, and such like, these they do not so much as pretend 〈◊〉 and withal, think they have a dispensation from such strictnesse, and make it a sufficient plea tha • they are not such, because they never professed to be such: others again, though fewer, can pretend even to these higher points of Christianity, as communion with God, walking after the Spirit, and indeed in this they are more consonant to their profession of Christianity: But, as the Apostle saith, there may be a practical li • in it too, if we consider and compare their practice with their profession.

I would speak a word by way of preparation to you who are of the first sort, that is the very multitude of professing Christians, because you do not profess so much as others, and do not give out your selves for the students of holiness, you think your selves exempted from the stroak of all this soul-piercing Doctrine, you think read • ly, it is not pertinent to apply this to you, of walking contrary to profession, and so committing this gross lie, in not doing the truth. If any say I have fellowship with God, &c. And who will say that • say ye, Who will speak such a high word of himself as this? Therefore since you do not presume so high, you think you have escaped the censure that follows.

But I beseech you, consider what your professions import, and what you ingage your selves to, even by the general profession of Christianity. I know you will all say you are Christians, and hope to be saved. Now do ye understand what is included in that, if any man say, that he is a Christian, he really sayes that he hath fellowship with God; if any man say, he is a Christian, he sayes he hath fellowship with Christ, and is partaker of his Spirit; for as the Apostle, Rom. 8.9. decl • res unto you, If any have not the Spirit of Christ he is none of his; that is, he is no Christian. For what is it, I pray you, to be a Christian? Is it not to be a new creature, formed again by the Spirit of Christ? 2 Cor. 5.17. Therefore in as far as you pretend to be Christians, and yet are not professors of holinesse, and think you have a dispensation from such a walking in God, and after Christ, you fall under a twofold contradiction, and commit a two-fold lie: First, between your profession and practice; then in your profession it self: your practice is directly cross to the very general profession of Christianity. But besides that, there is a contradiction in the bosome of your profession; you affirm you are Christians, and yet refuse the profession of holinesse; you say ye hope for Heaven, and yet do not so much as pretend to godlinesse, and walking spiritually. Nay, these you disjoyn in your profession, which a • e really one, without which the name of Ch • istianity is an empty, vain, and • idiculous appellation. There must be then a g • eat da • knesse of misapprehension in your minds, that you take on the name of Christians, and will not know what it impo • ts, and therefo • e in the mean time, you p • ofesse that which destroyes and anulls your former profession. Now certainly, this is a g • osser lie, a flatter contradiction, then it needs much inquiry into, to find it out. It is so palpable, that I wonder that these very common and received principles of t • uth, do not •• se up within, to testifie against it: For if ye do not own the profession of holinesse and communion with God, what advantage have you then of Christianity? tell me, What will it se • ve you for? Can it save you? Can a bare, empty, contradicted, and blasphemed title save you? and if it do not save you, it will make your condemnation the greater. Let this then fi • st be settled in our hearts, and laid down as a principle, that the most general profession of Christianity layes an inviolable bond and obligation upon us, to all that is imported in the particular expressions of a Christians nature, walk, and society; whether we take it so or not, thus it is: to be a Christian infolds all that can be said; and if it do not import these, it is not true to its own signification, nor conformed to Ch • ists meaning. You may deprave the world as you please, and deform that holy calling so, as it may suit to your car • i • ge, but according to this wo • d, in this acceptation of it, you shall be judged: and if your Judge shall in that g • eat day lay all this great charge upon you, what will it avail you now to absolve your selves in your imaginations, even from the very obligation it self.

Let us suppose then, that you are convicted of this, that Christianity in the most gene • al and common acceptation, is inclusive of fellowship and communion with God; and that you professe and pretend to both; then let us apply this just rule of the Apostles, to examine the truth and reality of such a profession. The rule is str • ight, and so may be a trial both of that which is straight and crooked. Rec • um sui & obliqui index: and here the application being made, there is a discovery of the falshood and crookednesse of most mens hearts; this Golden Rule of Examination, is a Rule of Proportion, so to speak, or it is founded upon the harmony that should be between profession and practice, words and deeds, and upon that, conformity should interceed between those that have communion one with another. Now apply these to the generality of Christians, and behold, there is no harmony and consent between their speaking and walking; their calling and profession, as Christians, imports communion with God, who is the pure unmixt light, and yet they declare otherwise, that themselves are in darknesse of ignorance, and walk in the darknesse of sin, an • so that communion must be pretended, wher • there is no conformity and likenesse to God intended: The result then of • ll is this, herein is the greatest lie, and most dangerous withal, committed, It is the greatest li • , because it takes in all a mans conve •• ation, which all along make • up one great unive • sal lie, a lie composed of infinit cont • arie • ies, of innumerable particul • r lies, for eve • y step, every word, and action, i • in its own nature cont • a • y to that holy profession, but all combined together, makes up a black constellation of lies; one powerful lie against the t • uth. And besides, it is not against a particular truth, but against the whole complex of Christianity. An e •• or is a lie against such a particular t • uth as it opposeth; but the tract and cou • se of an ignorant, ungodly conversation, i • one continued lie, ag • inst the whole bulk • nd body of Christianity. It is a lie d • awn the length of many weeks, moneths, and year • , against the whole frame of Christi • n profession: for the • e is nothing in the calling of a Christian, that i • not ret • acted, contradicted, and repro • ched by it. Oh, th • t ye could unbowel your own wayes, and see what a clos • er of lies and incongruities is in them, what reproache • and calumnies these practical lies c • st upon the honour of your Christian Calling, how they tend of their own nature, to the disgracing of the truth, and the blaspheming of Gods Name. T • ese things ye would find, if ye would rip up your own hearts and wayes, and if you found how great that lie is, you could not but fear the danger of it; for it being no lesse then a denying of Jesus Christ, and a real abrenunciation of him, it puts you without the refuge of sinners, and is most likely to keep you without the blessed City, for there shall in no wayes enter therein any thing that defileth, or maketh a lie, Rev. 21.27. What shall then become of them whose life all alongs is but one continued lie.

SERMON XIII· 1 Joh. 1.6.

If we say that we have fellowship with him, and walk in darknesse, we lie, &c.

THat which is the sum of Religion, sincerity, and a correspondency between profession and practice, that is confirmed by reason, and much strengthned by nature it self, so that Religion, Reason, and Nature, conspire in one, to hold out the beauty and comlinesse of sincerity, and to put a note and character of infamy and deformity upon all hypocrisie and deceit, especially in the matters of Religion. There is nothing so contrary to Religion, as a false appearance, a shew of that which is not: for Religion is a most intire and equable thing, like at 〈◊〉 harmonious in all the pa • ts of it, the same wit •• in and without, in exp • ession and action, all cor • respondent together. Now to 〈◊〉 this h •• m •• ny, and to make it up of unequal, dissimil • pa • ts, and to make our pa • t give the lie to 〈◊〉 other, the cou • se of a m • ns li • e, in igno • anc • negligence, and sin, proclaiming cont • ary to • h • profession of Christianity: this is to make Reli • gion a monst • uous thing, to deny the nature o • it, and in our imaginations to contrive an im • possible union of inconsistent things. It is a crea • ture made up of cont • adiction • , which can hav • no subsistence in the t • uth, but only in the fan • cies of deluded souls: one professing Christianity, and so by cons • quence fellowship with the original light, the Sun of Righteousnes •• , and yet da • knesse of igno • ance possessing the mind, and the heart ca •• ied away in th • wayes of the lusts of ignorance, and walking in that darknesse, this is a monster in Christianity, one so far mi • sh • pen, that the very outward form and vi • age of it doth not remain. But I told you, reason confirms this, for what more suitable to the very natural frame and constitution of a reasonable beeing, then that the outward man should be the image and expression of the inward, and that they should answer one another, a • f • ce answers face in the water; that the tongue should be the interpreter of the mind, and the actions of a mans life the interpreter of his tongue. Here is that beauti • ul proportion and that pleasing harmon • , when all these, though different in their own natu • e, yet conjoyn toge •• er, and make up one sweet conco • d. Now t • uly, if we t • ke upon us the profess • on of Christianity, and yet our ordinary and habitual speeches are carnal and earthly, never salted with grace, often poisoned with blasphemie • , oaths and cu • sings, and often defiled with filthy speeches, and often inte • mingled with • ep • oaches of othe • s, if our conversation be con • o • med to the course of the world, according to these lusts that hur • y away multitudes o • mankind to perdition, and look to the heart within, and behold, never any labour about the pu • i • ying of it from corruption, never any mortification of evil affections, and little or no knowledge of the t • uth, not so much as may let Christ in to the soul: this, I say, is as unreasonable and ab ••• d, as it is irreligious: it wholly perve • ts that beautiful order, makes an irreconciliable discord between all the parts in man, that neither mind, nor mouth, nor hands answer one another, nor all of them, or any of them answer that holy calling a man pretends to. Such a one pretends ordinarily the goodnesse of his heart towards God, but now the tongue cannot interpret the heart, it is exanctorated out of that natural office, for the ordinary current is contrary to that pretended goodnesse of the heart; For a good man, out of the good treasure of his heart, sendeth forth good things, but all these are either evil, or never seasoned with that spiritual goodnesse. Then the wayes and actions of a mans life, which ought to interpret and expound his professions, these are rendered altogether incapable of that, they give no confirmation to them, but rather • mani • est contradiction; for what ar • your multiplied oaths, drunkennesses, fornication • , railings, contentions, lyings, Sabbath-profanation • ? your woful neglect of prayer in secret, and in your families, your continuing in these evil • that ever you walked into, what are they, I say, but a manifest violation of both Religion and Reason, and a clear confirmation that ye are liars, and the truth is not in you?

There is something even in nature to decla • e the absurdity and unnaturalnesse of this general discordance between mens profession and practice. Look upon all the creatures, and do they not all with one voice proclaim sincerity? Hath not every beast, and every bird its own outward shape, outward gesture, and voice, and external workings, which declare the inward nature of it? And is not this a Staple-known rule in nature, that every thing is known by the effects of it? A Lion by his roaring, • Lark by its singing, a Horse by his neighing▪ and • n Ox by his lowing, &c. All these speak forth nothing but sincerity, in so much, that if these marks • nd signs should be confounded, • nd beasts use them indifferently, all humane knowledge should suddenly fall to nothing, this would put such a confusion, both in th • wo • ld and mankind. O, how doth this condemn th • s • who pretend to thi • high Calling of Christianity? and yet there is no way left to discern them by, nothing appearing in them, and ordinarily proceeding from them, which may give a signification of the inward truth of their fellowship with God; but rather that which gives a demonstration of the vanity of the pretention. Ther • • e • e no consent in nature, if tha • were 〈◊〉 ▪ neither is there any harmonious agreement in Religion, where thi • proportion and correspondence is not kept in a m • n • life. The very Heathens did not account them Philosophers, but those that expressed their Doctrines in wo • k • , 〈◊〉 well as words; and truly, the liveliest image of truth is in practice: They commended them that were spa • ing in words, and abundant in deeds: who had short speeches, but long and large discou • ses in their life; and what i • this, but that which our Saviour every where, from his own example, inculcat • upon us. These word • are emph • tick, To do the truth, to walk in the light, to do his word, to believe with the heart, and such like: all which declare, that in so far we have the truth, and have fello • ship with the light, as it is impressed in the affection, and expressed again in the convers • tion; for the infinit truth, and the infinit life, is one, and the original light, and primitive life and love, is on • too, and whoever truly receive • the truth and light, as it is, cannot but receive him, as the living truth, and life-giving light, and so be heated and wa • med inwa • dly by his beams, which will certainly cau • e some stirring and wo • king without: For as much as in n • ture, heat is alwayes wo • king, so is the fi • e of love kindled in the heart, inces • ant that way▪ f • ith working by love; fo • action is the very life of life, that which both shews it, and preserves it.

Now what shal we say, to ca •• y these things home to your hearts? Where shall convincing words be had which may break the hardness of your hearts? It is strange that you are in such a deep dream of delusio • , that nothing can awake you out of it? And how little is it that you have to please your selves into? Some external p • iviledges, the Temple of the Lord, his Covenant, and the seals of it, your ordinary bearing the Word, and such like: But are there not many thing • in your hearts and wayes, that act the most contradictory lie to these that can be? For wherefore do we thus meet together? Do ye know an end, or propose any? I scarce believe it of the most part. We come out of custome, and m • ny as by constraint, and with little or no previous consideration of the great end of this work; and when ye go forth, what fruit appears? Your ordinary, carnal, and civil discourses succeed; and who is it either bows his knee to pray for the divine blessing, or intertains that holy word either in his own meditation, or speaks of it to the edification of others? Are you not, the most part of you, that ground of which Christ speaks, that lyes in the way-side, and eve • y thing comes and takes the seed up? Do ye either listen and apply your hearts to a presentnesse in hearing? Or is there any more account of it, then a sound in the ear, or any footstep or imp • ession left in the heart, more then of the flight of a bird in the air? And alas! how many souls are choaked and stifled? the truth suffocated in the very sp • inging, by the thorns of the cares of this world, and the throng and importunity of businesses, and earthly desires. How many good motions come to no m • turity by this means? How few of you use to pray in secret, and to dedicat a time for reti • ement from the world, and injoyment of God? Nay, you think you are not called to it, and if any be induced to it, and to publick wo • ship in their families, yet all the day over is but a flat contr • diction to that: What earthly-mindednesse? What unholiness of affection? What impu • ity of conversation? What one lust is subdued? What one sin mortified? Who increaseth more in knowledge of the truth, or in love of God? Is it not midnight with most part of you? O, the darknesse of the ignorance of your mind • , by which you know not that Religion you professe, more then Tu • ks who do pe • secute it. And what are the wayes ye walk into? Are they not such wayes, as will not come to the light, and hate the light, because it reproves them? Joh. 3.19▪ 20. and 11.9, 10. Are they not such, in whic • men stumble, though they seem to walk easily and plainly into them? Yet, O that everlasting stumble that is at the end of them! when you shall fall out of one darknesse of sin and delus • on, into an utter, extream, eternal da • knesse of destruction and damnation. O, that • ea •• ul dungeon, and pit of darkness, you post into • There • ore, i • you love your own souls, be warned, 〈◊〉 beseech you be warned to flee from that •• ter darknesse, be awaked out of your deceiving dreams, and deluding, sel • -flattering imag ••••• on • , and Christ shall give you light. The di ••• very of that grosse da • knesse you walked into, in which you did not see whither you w • nt▪ I say, the clear discerning of what it is, and whither i • leads, is the fi •• t opening of that Light, the • ir • t visit of that Morning Star, that brings salvation.

If ye will not be convinced o • that • nfinit d • nge • you are into, yet ye ar • not the • urther • rom • t. He that walketh in darknesse lie • h, &c. Hi • strong confidence and perswasion hath • lie, • contradiction in the bosome o • it, and that will n • ver bottom any true happinesse. It is a lie acted by the hand, the • oot, and • ll the member • ▪ a lie • g • inst • he holy tru • h and Word o • God, and the very reproach o • the Name of Christ▪ 〈◊〉 lie against your selves, and your own pro • ess • on • , a soul-murthering lie, as well as a Christ • denyin •• lie: and this lie (as a holy man saith) hath filled Houses, Cities, Families, Countreys, it hath ev •• overspred the whole Nation, and filled all with darknesse, horrour, con • usion, trouble and anguish, once being a holy Nation by profession of a Covenant with God, and our open, m • ni • est▪ universal retraction of that, by an unholy, ungodly, and wicked conversation. This h • th b • ought the sword against a hypocritical Nation, and this will bring that far greater, incomparably more intollerable day of wrath upon the children of disobedience. Therefore let me exhort all of you, in the Name of the Lord, as ye desire to be admitted to that eternally blessed society, within the holy City, and not to be excluded among these, who commit abomination, and make a lie, that ye would henceforth impose this necessity upon your selves, or know that it is laid upon you by God, to labour to know the will and truth of God, that you may see that light that shi • es in the Gospel, and not only to receive it in your minds, but in your hearts by love, that so you may indeavour in all sincerity, the doing of that truth, the conscionable practising of what you know. And this, as it is a great point of conformity to the light, so it will make you capable of more light from God; • or he delights to shew his liberality where he hath any acceptance. Be not satisfied, O! be not sat • sfied with knowing these truths, and discoursing upon them, but make them • urther your own, by impressing them deeply in your hearts, and expressing them plainly in your wayes. This is pure Religion and undefiled, J • m. 1.27. And is not this to know me, saith • he Lord, Jer. 22.16. Practice is real knowled • e, because it is living knowledge, it i • the ve • y life and soul o • Ch • istianity, when there needs no more but the intimation of hi • will to c • r • y the whole man: T • is is that we would all aspire unto, and not satisfie our selves in our poor attainments below this.

SERMON XIV· 1 Joh. 1.7.

But if we walk in the light as he is in the light, we have fellowship one with another, and the blood of Iesus Christ his Son cleanseth us from all sin.

ARt is the imitation of Nature, and true Religion is a divine Art, that consists in the imitation of God himself, the Author of Nature. Therefore it is a more high and transcendent thing, of a sublimer nature, then all the Arts and Sciences among men; those reach but to some resemblance of the wisdom of God, expressed in his works, but this aspires to an imitation of himself in holinesse, which is the glory of his N • me, and so to a fellowship with himself. Therefore there is nothing hath so high a pattern, or sublime an end, God himself, who is infinitly above all, i • the pattern, & socie • y with God, i • 〈◊〉 end o • i • : and so it cannot choice, but where Religion makes an • olid impression on a soul, it 〈◊〉 ex • eedingly raise and advance it to the most he • oi • k and noble resolutions that it is capable o • , in re • pect o • which elevation of the • oul afte • God, the highest project • , the greatest aspirings, and the most elevating de • igns of men, a • e nothing but low, base, and wretched, having nothing of true greatnesse of mind in them, but running in an earthly and ••• did channel, infinitly below the poo • e • t soul, that is lifted up to God.

Since we have then so high a pattern as God, becau • e he is infini •• y • emoved from us in his own natu • e, we have him exp • essed to us under the name and notion of light, which makes all things manifest. Not only as dwelling in inacc • ssi • le l • ght, that is, in his own incomprehens •• e, ine •• able essence▪ even before this light wa • created, for he is in the light, and was in the light, when there was no Sun to give light, because he was in hi • self invironed (so to speak) • i • h the infinit light and splendor of his own understanding, and beauty of his own holinesse, and so dwelling in an all-fulnesse, and self-sufficiency of blessednesse. Not only is he thus in the light, bu • he is a light to poor sinners, the most communicative being, that ceaseth not continually to send • orth streamings of that light and life into dark and dead souls: and therefore he is not only light in himself, but a Sun of Righteousness, m • st beneficial in hi • influences, most impartial and f • ee in his illumination, and so he is often called, my light, and my salvation, our light, a light to me, Psal. 27.1. Micah 7.8. Isai. 42.6▪ 7. Now, it is this emission of light from him, that fi • st drives away that gross darknesse that is over • oul • , for till then, in the darkness all was hid and covered, nothing seen, neither our selves▪ nor God, neither the temper of our hearts, nor the course of our w •• es, nor the end they lead to. But it is the breaking in of a beam of that Sun of Righteousness, that maketh any such d • scovery; as mo • es a • e not seen till the Sun shine, though the house be full of them; in da • knesse there is nothing but confusion and disorder▪ and light only makes that disorder visible to the soul, to the affecting of the hea • t. Now when once the soul hath received that light, there is a desire kindled in the heart after more of it, as when the eye hath once perceived the sweetnes • and pleasantnesse of the light, it opens it self, and exposeth it self to a • uller reception of more: and so the soul that is onc • thus happily prevented by the fi • st salutation, and visit of that day-sp • ing from on high, while he was sitting in darknesse, and in the sh • dow of death, Luk. 1.78, 79. afterward, follows after that light, and desires nothing more, then to be imbosomed with it: That tender preventing mercy, so draw • the heart after it, that it can never be at perfect rest, t • ll the night be wholly spent, and all the shadows of it removed, and the Sun clearly up above the Horizon, and that is the day of that clear vision of Gods face. But in the mean time, this is the great ambition and indeavour of such an one, to walk in that light, and this is the very intertainment of that fellowship with God; he is already in the light, that is to say, he is translated from a state of darknesse to light, and indowed with the living and saving knowledge of God in Iesus Christ, this is his state; he is in the l • ght, one inlightned from above, having his eye • opened to discover the mystery of the iniquity of his own heart, and to see far off, to that bottomlesse pit of misery, which his way would lead him to; one who hath by this divine illustration discovered eternal things, and seen things not seen, and withall gotten some knowledge of salvation, by the remission of sins. Now such an one, being thus in the light▪ his duty is, and his infinit dignity besides, to wa • k in that light, that i • , to lead all his life under that eternal light of God, which shines in the Word, and to bring it all forth in his view; to make our whole course a progressive motion towards Heaven; wherein that glorious light shines most gloriously. It is almost all one with that of Pauls, to have our conversation in Heaven; for, to walk in the light, it is a kind of elevation of our actions, a raising them up to Heaven, to that pure light, for after that, and toward that, is the souls design.

Now to exp • esse to you in what it co •• ists, I desi • e not to b •• nch it forth in many particula • s, 〈◊〉 • athe • dist • act the mind, then aff • ct the hea • t; only you may know, it c • nsi ••• especiall • into the 〈◊〉 re • i • ements • f the • oul to G • d, an • the ou • ward •• i • ing of that light, in our conve •• ation to oth ••• . These are the chief pa • ts o • it, b ••• owin • , from hi • light, and then 〈◊〉 and im ••• ting 〈◊〉 to other • , by a holy conve • sati • n. T • u •• , we must needs conceive that t • e most lively and •• mixt par •• king of the ligbt of G • d, 〈◊〉 the sweetest • o • iety with 〈◊〉 , is in the sec • et withd •• wings of the soul f • om the world, and reposes up • n G • d, tho • e little intervals, and, as it we • e, 〈◊〉 hour • of fellowship with God, • hat are taken f • om the multitude and 〈◊〉 of our busin • sse▪ these a • e the • itte •• oppo • tunities of the transforming the soul into hi • similitude, and of purifying it as he is pure, of fi • ling it with divine light and love; f • r then the heart lyes, as it we • e perpendicularly under his beams, and is opened be • o • e him, to give admission and ent • y to this saving, t • an • fo • ming light; and it i • the shining of Gods countenance then upon the so • l, that d • aws it most toward • conformity with him, and leaves an impression of light • nd love upon the soul Oh, that you were mo • e acquainted with this, this apric • tion, so to speak, that i • , s • nning your selve • , and warming in t • e Sun, the exposing and opening of your hea • t • f • eq • ently in s ••• et, before this Sun of Righ • eou ••• sse. N • w, this, if you were acquaint with it, would make your light so to shine before men, as your He • venly Father may be glor • fied, M •• 5.16. a • d that is the walking in th •• light of God. This makes a Christian to come fo • th, as Moses from the Mount, with his • ace shining; he co • es out f •• m the retired acc • sses to G • d, wi • h a lust • e upon hi • carriage, that may bea • tifie the Gospel▪ and (as one saith w • ll) with the Tab • e • of the Law in both his hand • , w • itten in hi • p • actice, the light of the Law shining in his li • e; and truly this is the Ch • istians 〈◊〉 in his low • r • phere, w • e • ein he ca •• ies ab • ut that light that is de • ived f • om the hig • er light, in all his con • erse with men, it shine • from him to the glorifying of him that i • the F • ther • f lights, walking • igh • e • usly and sobe • ly, without offen • e, doing goo • to all, • spe • ially the child • en of light, extending ••• ces of love and benevo • lence to eve • y one, forbea • ing and forgiving offence • , not partaking with other mens sin • , and fin • ly, declaring in wo • d and deed, that we have communion with the fountain of pure light, and one day expect to be translated out of this lower Or • , whe • e we are so far distant from him, and fixed in the highest of all; where we may h • ve the immediat, full, uninterrupted, and clearest aspect of his countenance, which shall then make the desc • iption that is here given of God, communicable to us, that, as he is light, and in him is no darkness, so we being fully and perfectly shined upon by him, may be light likewise, without any mixtu • e o • d •• knesse, as here it is not.

Now, my beloved in the Lord, this is that we are called unto, to walk thus in the light, in the light of obedience and sanctification, and th • t is the great thing ye would lea • n to aspi • e unto, rather then to enjoy the light of consolation: Indeed I conceive, that which maketh many of u • walk in darknesse, as i • spoken in Isa. 50.10. that is, without com • ort, peace, and joy, and without clear disce • ning our interest in God, i • , because we walk in another da • knesse, that is, of sin and distance from God; the one da • knesse is introductive of the other, nay, they cannot be long without other, the da • k cloud of bold sinning, and ca • elesse unci • cumspect walking, that cannot but eclip • e the light of consolation, and fill the soul with some ho • rour, anguish, and confusi • n. Therefore, if ye would walk in the light of joy and comfort, O, take heed nothing be interposed between God and your souls: you must likewise walk in the light of his Law, which is, as a lamp to the feet, and this light, as the ray, begets that light of comfort, as the splendor, which is the second light of the Sun: I know i • is a disconsolat and sad condition to walk without the light of the knowledge of our interest in God; but I would earnestly recommend unto you two things to support you, and help you in that; one is, that you do not give over the chief point of this society with God, that is, walking in the light of his Law and Commandments, but that you do th • more se • iously add • esse to the one, that you want the other. C •• tainly, it ought to be no hinderance of your obedience, and patient continuing in obedience, that you know not your own interest, and that his countenance shines not so upon you; you know that sweet • esolution, I will wait upon the Lord who hides his face, &c. Isai. 8.17. Mic. 7.7. and his own command, Isai. 50.10. Hos. 12.6. Ye that walk in such a darknesse, neve • thelesse, stay upon God. Truly there could be no g • eater evidence of thy interest, then thi • , to give patient attendance upon him in the wayes of obedience, till he shine forth; this would in due time bring forth thy righteousnesse as the light, if we would not substract and withdraw our selves from under the light, because it is presently over-clouded. Then, moreover you would know, that all this while that your interest in Christ lyes dark, and under cloud, you should then be most in the applic • tion of that blood to your souls, most in trusting and staying upon the Name of God, and his absolute promises. Suppose thou do not as yet know that he is thine, yet dost thou not know that he is made thine by believing in him? and therefore while it is inevident that it is already, thou ought so much the more to labour, that what is not, may be. Now, if thou canst not apply him to thy soul, as thine own possessio • , yet thou mayest, and so much the more oug • test to apply thy soul to him, an • re • ign and offer thy self to him, as willing to be his posse • sion, to be his, and no more thine own: in a word, when thine own expe • imental feeling of the wo • k of Gods Spirit fails within thee, th • n so much the more in • ist, and dwell upon the meditation and belies o • the gene • al p • omi • es, which a • e the p • oper object of faith, and not 〈…〉 : as our own inte • est is • he proper obj • ct o • 〈◊〉 , and not of saith Therefo • e the de • ect in the one, need • not re • ound upon the other. To • um up all in one word, i • thou thinkest that thou hast not y • t believed in Christ, and 〈◊〉 no inte • est in him, I will not dispute with thee, to pe • swade t • ro • hat thou art mistaken, for all thi • debate would h • in the 〈◊〉 , bec • use thou a • t in d • rkness; but one th •• g I would s • y unto thee, labour to do that whic • th • u would do, which thou must do, if • uc • a c •• e were granted; suppose it were so, that thou had no in • e • est in him, what would thou do then? I am sure th •• would say, I would labo •• by any 〈◊〉 to have him mine; why then, thou knows that cannot be before believing, and • eceiving him 〈◊〉 hi • promises, and not at all, but by believing. Therefore, since that this is it you must at length tu • n unto, suppose the case were decided, why do ye not presently • at • er without more wea • ying your selves, in the greatnesse of your way, tu • n in hither, as to a place of refuge, without further disputing in the businesse, • nd so by believing in Christ, and waiting upon him in his ways, you shall put that o • t of q • e •• ion, w • ich debating would make an end • e •• qu • s • ion. The Lord make you wi • e to know the t • ing • that belongs to your peace.

SERMON XV· 1 Joh. 1.7.

— And the blood of Iesus Christ his Son cleanseth us from all sin.

CAn two walk together except they be agreed? A • darknesse cannot have fellowship with lig •• , till it be changed into some con • o • mity to t • e light, even • o t • ere can neither be any fellowship in walking, nor con • ormity in nature, between God and u • , who are enemies to him by n •• ure, unlesse there be some agreement and reconcilia • ion os the difference. Now here is that which maketh the atonement, The blood of Iesus his Son • leanseth us from all sin. This is it that takes away the difference between God 〈◊〉 men, and makes reconciliation for us; This blood hath qu • nched • he fl • me of indignation and w • ath kindled in Heaven against us. And this alone can quench and extinguish the flames and • u • ies of a tormented soul, that is burnt up with the app • ehension of his anger: All other things thou can • pply, or cast upon them, will be as oyl to increase them, whether it be to cool thy self in the shadows of the worlds delights, such a poor • hi • t as the rich glutton would have taken in hell; those drops of cold water that thou can dis • ill out of the c • eature, will never give any solid ease to thy conscience; thou may abate the • ury of it, or put it off for a season, thou who is afraid of hell and wrath, may procure so • e short vacancy from those terrours, by turning to the world: but certainly they will recurr • gain, and break out in a g • eater fire, like a fever that is not diminished, but increased by much drinking cold water: or if thou go about to refresh thy self, and sati • fie thy challenges by thy own attainments in Religion, and by reflection upon thy own heart and wayes, finding something in thy esteem, that may counterballance thy evils, and so give thee some confidence of Gods avour, these, I say, are but deceitful things, and will never either quench the displeasure of God for thy si • s, but rather add • ewel to it, because thou justifies thy self, which is an abomination before him; nor yet will it totally extinguish and put to silence the clamours of thy conscience, but that some day thou shall be spoiled of all that sels-confidence, and sel • -defence, and find thy sel • so much the more displeasing to God, that thou did please thy self, and undertook to pacifie him. Therefore, my beloved, let me above all things recommend this unto you, as the prime • oundation of all Religion, upon which all our peace with God, and pardon of sin, and fellowship with God must be built, that the blood of Jesus Christ be applyed unto your consciences by believing, and that first of all, upon the discovery of your enmity with God, and infinit distance from him, you apply your hearts unto this blood, which is the atonement, to the reconciling sacrifice, which alone hath ve • tue and power with God. Do not imagine that any peace can be without this; would ye walk with God, which is a •• dg • of ag • eement • would ye have • ellowship with God, which i • • •• uit of • econciliation? would ye have pardon o • sins, and the pa • ticular knowledge of it, whi • h is the greatest ef • ect of • avour? and all this, without and before application of Christ who is our peace, in whom the Father only is well pleased; will you seek these, and yet di • pu • e this point of believing, as if it we • e possible to attain these without the sp • inkling of that blood on the hea • t, which indeed clean • eth it f • om an evil accusing conscience▪ If you desire to walk in the light, as he is in the light, why wea • y ye your selves in by-waye • ? Why take ye such a comp • sse o • endlesse and • ruitlesse agitation, and pe • plexity of mind? and will not rather come straight way at it, by the door of Iesu • Christ, • o • he is the new and living way, into which you must enter, if ye would walk in the light; and the wounds of his side, out of which this blood gushed, these open you a way of accesse to him, because he was pierced for us. That st • eam of blood, i • ye come to it, and follow it all along, it will certainly carry you to the Sea of light and love, where you may have fellowship with God. And O, How much comfort is in it, that there is such a stream running all the way of our walking with God? all the way of our fellowship, that fountain of Christs blood runs not d • y, but •• ns along with the believer, for the cleansing of his after pollution • ▪ of • is defilements, even in the very light it self. This then, as it is the fi • st foundation of peace and communion with God, so it is the pe • petual assurance and confirmation of it, that which first gives boldnesse, and that alone which still c • nt • nue • boldnesse in it. It is the fi • st ground, and the constant warrand and secu • ity of it, without which it would be as soon dissolved as made. If that blood did not run along all this way, to w • sh all his steps, if the way of light and fellowship with God, were not watered, and re •• eshed with the continual current of this blood, certainly none could walk in it without being consumed. The • efore it is, that the mercy of God and ric • es of grace in Christ, hath provided this blo • d for u • , both to cleanse the sin • of i • norance, before • elieving, and the sin • o • light, after believing, t • at a poor sinner may constantly go on his w •• , and not be broken off • rom God, by his infirmitie • and e • capes in the way.

You • ee then the Gospel • uns in these two golden stream • , pardon of sin, and purity of walking; they run undividedly, all along in one channel, yet without confusion one with another, as it is reported of some great Rivers, that run together between the same Banks, and yet retains distinct colour • and natures all the way, till they part. But these streams that glad the City of God, never part one from another; the cleansing blood, an • the pu • ifying light, 〈◊〉 a • e 〈◊〉 intire a • d pe • fect • um of the Gospel; pu • ification • rom sin, the guilt of 〈◊〉 , and the pu • ity of • alking in the light, flowing from that, makes up the • ull c • m • l • xion o • Chr ••• ianity; w • ich are • o nearly conjoyned to • ethe • , that i • they be divided, they cease to be, and cannot any of them subsist, save in mens deluded imagination. The end o • •• shing in the blood of Christ i • , that we may co • e to this light, and have fellowship with it; for the dar • nesse of hell, the utter da • kness of the curse of God, which overspreads the unbelieving soul, and eclipses all the light o • Gods countenance from him, that da • k and thick cloud of guiltinesse, that heap of unrenewed conversation, this, I say, must be removed by the cleansing of the blood of Christ, and then the soul is admitted to injoy that light, and walk into it. And it is removed chiefly for this end, that there may be no impediment in the way of this fellowship; this blood cleanseth, that you being cleansed, may hence • orth walk in purity; and there is no pu • ity like that of the light of Gods countenance, and commands: and so you are washed in the blood of Christ, that you may walk in the light of God, and take heed that you defile not your garments again. But if so be, (and certainly it will be, considering our weaknesse • ) that you defile your selves again, like soolish children, who after they have washed, run to the puddle again, forget • ing that th • y were cleansed; if either you • daily infi • mities tro • ble, or some grosser pollution defile and waste you • cons • ience, know th • t this blood • uns all along in the same channel of your obligation to holy walking, and it is as sufficient now as ever, to cleanse you from all sin, from sins of daily incursion, and sins of a grosser nature, there is no exception in that blood, let there be none in your application to i • , and apprehension of it. Now, this is not to give boldnesse to any man to sin, or continue in sin, because of the lengthned use, and continued vertue and efficacy of the blood of Christ; for if any man draw such a result f • om it, and improve it to the advantage of his flesh, he declare • himself to have no portion in it, never to have been w • shed by it; for what soul can in sobriety look upon that blood shed by the Son of God, to take away the sins of the worl • , and find an emboldning to sin from that view? Who can wash and clea •• e here, and presently think of defilement, but with indignation?

I spe • k these things the rather, because there is a twofold misapprehension of the Gospel among Christians, and on both hands much darknesse • nd stumbling is occasioned. We have poor narrow spirits, and do not take intire truth in its full comprehension, and so we are as unfit and unequal discerners of the Gospel, and receivers of it, as he that would judge of a sentence by one word, of a book by one page, of a harmony by one note, and of the world by one parcel of it. The beauty and harmony of things consists in their intire union; and though there should appear many discrepancies, • nd unpleasant discords in several parts, yet all united together, make up a pleasant consort. Now this is our childish foolishnesse, that we look upon the Gospel only by halfs, and this being alone seen, begets misapprehensions and mistakes in our minds; for ordinarily we supply that which we see not with some fancy of our own. When the blood of Iesus Christ is holden out in its full vertue, in the large extent of its efficacy, to cleanse all sin, and to make peace with God, and wipe away all transgressions, as if they h • d never been; the generality of you never apprehending much your own desperat condition, nor conceiving an absolute necessity of a change, you think this is all that is in the Gospel, and begin to flatter your selves, and blesse your selves, though you live in the imaginations of your own hearts, and never apprehends the absolute need, and inevitable sequel of walking in purity aster pardon. And alace, there is something of this sometimes overtakes the he • rts of true believers, in the slight and overly consideration of the mercy of God, •• d blood of Christ: you do not lay the constr • int upon your hearts to • holy conversation. I say, it is not because you apprehend that blood, that you take more liberty to the flesh, but rather because you too slightly and superf • cially consider it, and that but the one half of it, without p • e • cing into the p • oper end of that clean • ing, which i • , that we may walk in p •• ity.

But on the other hand, some believin • souls, having their desi • es inla • ged afte • more • oline • s and confo • mity to God, and app • ehen • ing not only the necessity of it, but the beauty and comlinesse of it, yet finding withal, how infinitly short they come, and how o •• their pu • po • es are broken and disappointed, and them • elves plunged in the mi • e of their own filthinesse, this doth discourage them, and dri • e • them to such a despondency, and dejection of spirit, that • hey a • e like to give over the way of holinesse as de • pe • at. Now my beloved, for you who look upon the Gospel by a parcel, and such a parcel as injoyns much upon you, I would ea • nestly beseech, to open and inlarge your hea • ts to receive the full body of the truth, to look upon th •• cleansing blood, as well as that pure light; to consider the perpetual use of the one; untill you have fully attained the other. Know that the fo •• tai • is kept open, and not shut, not only to admit you to come at fi • st, but to give ready accesse in all after-defilements, and there is no wo • d more comprehensive then this here, it cleanseth from all sin. All thy exceptions, doubts, and difficulties, are about some particular sin • , and circumstances; thy debates runs upon some exception, but here is an universal comprehensive word, that excludes all exception; no kind of sin, either for quality, or degree, or circumstance, is too great for this blood; and therefore as you have reason to be humbled under your • a • lings, so there is no reason to be discouraged, but rather to reviv • your spirits and vigour again, in the study of this walking in the light, knowing that one day we shall be in the light, • s he is in it. Nay, take this alongs with you, as your strength, and incouragement to your duty, as the greatest provocation to mor • purity, that there is so constant readiness of pardon i • that blood.