Grosey's Messages

" Behold, I am against the prophets, saith the Lord, THAT STEAL MY WORDS every one from his neighbour" (xxiii. 30).

God does not accuse them of setting up a false religion in opposition to His. He does not charge them with uttering lies, or misleading the people by perverting and distorting the truth. It is not " corruption of his word" (2 Cor. ii. 17) that He is speaking of, nor of a religion founded upon such a corruption, but a far more subtle and specious thing. Nor does He condemn them for uttering words of their own-words that were not His, whether true or false. This is not the evil complained of, and the sin denounced. He allows that the words spoken are really His, for He calls them 66 my words ; " but His accusation is, that they were not honestly come by ; that, instead of being obtained from the one lawful source-that is, Himself-they were surreptitiously seized upon from others-they were stolen. His charge is, that, instead of coming directly to Him, as the fountainhead, to be taught from His own lips, and by His own Spirit, these men got all their religious knowledge, all their acquaintance with His words, at second-hand, thus preferring man's teaching to God's, eschewing everything like personal contact and communication with God, and thus foregoing the freshness and power which words coming straight from His mouth could not fail to possess, as well as forfeiting the blessing with which God accompanies all that He conveys to the soul. But how, or in what circumstances, may we be said to steal God's words from our neighbour? This is a question of vast moment, inasmuch as it leads to an inquiry regarding counterfeit religion; that is, religion which, while admitting nothing false into the creed on which it bases itself, is yet, after all, a mere fac-simile, and not the authentic reality-religion which is thoroughly and essentially human, while, in all its visible lineaments and confessed articles of faith, it is divine; for man's perversity is seen just as much in his counterfeiting or mimicking the true, as in his upholding the false. 1. We " steal God's words" from our neighbour when we imbibe our religious opinions or theology from education, or hearsay, or companionship. We have been taught certain articles of belief, and we have never either questioned their truth, or gone about them to establish them so as to set them beyond question. In such a case we have stolen God's words from our fellow-men. They may all be strictly true and Divine, yet they have not been honestly and lawfully obtained; we have not gotten them from Him who alone can give us true possession of them-such possession of them as will make them entirely our own, by His gift and impartation. 

2. We do so when we adopt opinions, however sound, upon human authority.  In that case our faith stands in " the wisdom of men;" and the fear of God is taught us by man's precept. If we receive truth because our fathers received it, ours is a hereditary creed; if we receive it because the Church has transmitted it to us, it is a traditional creed; if we receive it because of its venerable age, it is an antiquarian creed; if we receive it because great or even good names are affixed to it, it is a man-taught creed ; if we receive it because reason has wrought it out and recommended it, it is an intellectual creed. In all these cases it is a human creed, resting upon human authority. It can be traced no higher than a human source, however true in itself. In other words, it has not been honestly come by-it has been " stolen." God Himself is the only authority we can recognise; and " God has said it " is the only resting-place for our faith. If it contents itself with any other foundation, it is either credulity or unbelief, or both together. "God hath spoken" is the one foundation of our faith; not  our fathers held it, or our church received it, or our authorised creed embodies it, or our best divines have maintained it, or reason has demonstrated it ; for to believe what God has said is one thing, and to believe it simply because He has said it, is another. It is quite possible to receive God's words, yet not to receive them solely because He has spoken them. 

3. We do so, when, in our inquiries, we consult man before consulting God when we study first and pray afterwards, or when we study without prayer at all. In such study much apparent progress may be made in apprehending " God's word;" much truth may be reached, so that our orthodoxy will be unchallengeable even in its minutest formulæ, but it will not be honestly attained it will be " stolen; " not gotten from its true Owner, but derived from man or from self, God not being consulted in the matter. Ah! it is not, first the study and then the closet-but, first the closet and then the study; it is not, first the commentary and then the Bible-but, first the Bible and then the commentary ; it is not, first theology and then Scripture-but, first Scripture and then theology ; else we are but purloiners of Divine truth, not honest purchasers of Him who has said, " Buy the truth, and sell it not. " It is in fellowship with Father, Son, and Spirit, that we must acquire our orthodoxy, and arrange our systems, and get hold of the form of sound words, and stablish ourselves. in the faith. If this connexion be dislocated, if this order be reversed, then are we pursuing an unlawful and unblest course ; we are stealing God's words from our neighbour instead of getting them where He would have us get them, in a far truer and more blessed way-directly from Himself. 4. We do so when we borrow the religious or spiritual experience of others, and use it as if it were our own, plying our selves with it, and endeavouring to make our souls to undergo it, as necessary to our religious character. A stolen or borrowed experience is just as unprofitable and hateful as stolen or borrowed truth. It is just another form of the same evil, another development of the same dishonest propensity; and it is, if possible, more sad and pernicious than the other. Yet it is no less common. Perhaps a certain standard of experience is set up, and it is given out that all must conform to this. Conversion must consist of a certain number of items arranged in certain theological order ; it must embrace and embody certain classified elements ; it must originate in a specified way ; it must proceed according to fixed and unalterable rules; it must count up a certain number of definite stages ! In setting up a definite standard of experience, be it that of Luther, or Bunyan, or Edwards, or Brainerd, there is too plainly indicated a desire to cast ourselves  into such human moulds, rather than to allow the Holy Spirit to mould us at His will. There is a trying to feel as others feel, and because others feel in a certain way, or as we think that we ought to feel. There is an endeavour to force a certain set of feelings into ourselves, that with them we may come to God properly recommended, instead of putting ourselves unreservedly into the hands of the Spirit, that He may awaken them in us, and draw them out of us. There is a determination to make ourselves pass through certain processes of emotion, because we read that others have done so, not perhaps in rivalry by any means, but from a sense of necessity or duty. We set about being religious by laying down some great model-experience, and then trying to act, and feel, and think accordingly, as if every sapling ought to be a cedar, because the cedars of Lebanon are so goodly, or as if every root and seedling ought to be a lily, because Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these. It is this self-wrought, self-sustained experience, that God condemns. It cramps our moral nature, and it represents God as so poor in purpose and plan, that He requires to repeat Himself continually. It is as truly an injury to ourselves as an insult to God. It is as unhealthy as it is untrue and unreal. It is a stolen experience, an artificial conversion, a self-produced spirituality, a man-made religion, which, however like the true, is not genuine; nay, is not honestly come by, being copied from others, received at secondhand, not learned in the school of God, under the teaching and discipline of the Holy Ghost. Such are some of the ways in which many get possession of the truth of God, and acquire their religious experience. I do not deny that what they have gotten is truth ; all that I affirm is, that they have not gotten it in the lawful way, and from the accredited source. It may not be " from beneath;" but then it is assuredly not from above : it is from around and from within. In opposition to these discreditable ways of obtaining truth and experience, we must learn the only lawful one. We must draw them fresh from God. He is ever willing to impart them. There is no reluctance on His part to teach and to enlighten. He does not stand upon ceremony with us, nor compel us to stand on ceremony with Him. " I will instruct thee and teach thee in the way which thou shalt go : I will guide thee with mine eye" (Ps. xxxii. 8). "It is written in the prophets, And they shall be all taught of God. Every man, therefore, that hath heard and learned of the Father, cometh unto me" (John vi. 45). This, then, is the process to which we must submit ourselves, if we would shake off this counterfeit religion; we must unlearn the unlawful, and learn the lawful way of coming into the possession of the words of God. " Let him that stole steal no more." We must subordinate all teaching to that of God, or, as we may say, of Christ. " Who teacheth like him ?" (Job xxxvi. 22.) " The Lord giveth wisdom : out of his mouth cometh wisdom and understanding. He layeth up sound wisdom for the righteous" (Prov. ii. 6). Let us receive knowledge from His lips. Let us lay ourselves fully open to the heavenly teaching, assured that God will " reveal all truth to us by his Spirit ; for the Spirit searcheth all things, yea, the deep things of God" (1 Cor. ii. 10). Let us go straight to Him, that He may give us " the unction from the Holy One, whereby we may know all things" (1 John ii. 20). Not that He gives us new truths or new revelations ; but he gives us the old in His own way-the only way in which they will avail us or profit others. In all other ways they are " stolen from our neighbour," not obtained from God; and, when thus unlawfully gotten, however good in themselves, they not only bring with them no blessing, but "theyeat as doth a canker." But this calls for further consideration, and I proceed to ask, " What are the effects of this stealing God's words from our neighbour?" In this inquiry, I assume that it is really the words of God that are thus obtained, and that the truth of Godis fully preserved. Yet it might be easy to shew, that in such a case there will always be some flaw or some imperfection, some defect or some redundancy, some dislocation and disorder. It cannot be otherwise in reality ; for however near truth we may come, yet the very truth itself in all its exactness we can never reach, save through the " enlightening of the eyes of our understanding" by the Spirit of truth Himself. Some correctness in scriptural language, some precision in theological formulæ, we may attain to; but the nice yet simple correctness in thought and in expression that marks the man whom God has taught, we must always be deficient in. But, assuming that it is really God's truth that is obtained, let us ask, What are the consequences of such a way of getting hold of it as we have been pointing out ? It produces

1. An imitative religion. In one sense, and up to a certain point, we may be copyists. We may study the developed graces of a fellow-saint, and be thus enabled to correct much in ourselves that is faulty. We may note the characteristics of others, and seek to have them transferred to ourselves, in so far as they are suitable for us ; for what is befitting one, may not in all its extent be befitting another. But He who transfers them must be the Holy Spirit, otherwise they will appear but awkward appendages, not natural branches growing out of the parent stem. He who corrects the faultiness must be the Spirit, else it will be a mere disguising, not an uprooting of the evil. He who enables us to copy must be the Spirit, else it will be a stiff lifeless imitation, an inanimate and unmeaning assemblage of features, thrown together by a hand that understood neither beauty, nor proportion, nor order. When men assume the position of copyists, either in imbibing truth or in taking on character, the result must be a mere religion of imitation-not indeed necessarily a religion of hypocrisy, but still a religion of imitation.

2. It produces a second-rate religion.- The quality of a religion thus obtained must be of an inferior kind. Being thus borrowed or " stolen," it cannot be of the

same high and Divine stamp as when received in the true and lawful way for the stream can rise no higher than the fountain; if the latter be human, so will the former be. An imitation must be in many points defective ; and it is impossible for a religion acquired in the way above described to be otherwise than imperfect and secondrate, even should it descend no lower in the scale. So many things in religion are quite incapable of being borrowed ; so many things are unseemly and grotesque when borrowed ; so many things, when borrowed, hang loose about the borrower, not suiting him at all, and contributing nothing to strength, or symmetry, or ornament-that it would be folly to expect anything very much above the insipidity of commonplace. Besides, life cannot be imitated. The lifeless and the material may be correctly copied, but life and immateriality are be yond the power of man's skill to imitate. He can paint a flower, but he cannot make one. He can chisel the marble into the likeness of man's material frame, but life and its movements he cannot copy. Its hidden pulses are beyond his reach. Much more true must this be of spiritual life, which is so much more impalpable, and whose sources are so much more inaccessible. The vanity of such an attempt will soon declare itself in the inferiority of the thing produced. It will be a poor, meagre, cadaverous religion, not only unfit to bring glory to the Cross, or hold up the eternal lamp in a dark time, to a far-erring world, but unfit to undertake man's common duties, unfit to stand the tear and wear of life, and still more unfit to throw itself for a death-wrestle upon the principalities and powers of hell. 

3. It produces an unhealthy religion.- Health, like life, cannot be imitated. Its hues may, in a measure, be copied ; but the natural and ever-varying tints of its complexion cannot be caught. In constructing, then, a religious experience, there must be failure here. The source of health is beyond our reach-its springs are not upon the earth ; so that sickliness, or rather deathliness, of aspect must ever be the characteristic of man's religion. There can be no healthy play in any one of our spiritual organs. All is diseased. The pulse will either be at the fever-heat of excitement, or in the stagnation of collapse or death. In such a case, the whole religious life will be unhealthy and feeble. The calmness, the unwrinkled freshness, the joyous energy that mark true spiritual health will not be there. How healthy the state of those to whom it was said, " I know thy works, and thy labour, and thy patience ; ... thou hast borne, and hast patience, and for my name's sake hast laboured, and hast not fainted ! " Theirs was no borrowed, no second-hand religion. How unhealthy those to whom it was said, "Thou art neither cold nor hot!" Their religion was of man, not of God. 

4. It produces an uncertain religion.- All religion that is of God begins with " purging the conscience," and reconciling the sinner. This is its starting-point. It provides cleansing through the blood, and clothing through the righteousness, of the Son of God. Thus cleansed and clothed, the worshipper stands before the mercy-seat. But in a borrowed religion, there can be no pacifying of the conscience ; and all is necessarily uncertain as to reconciliation with God. Where there are no direct and personal dealings with God in the matter of acceptance, there cannot be certainty. Hence every step taken must be taken in uncertainty. Every deed done must be done in uncertainty, as to its being acceptable in His sight. Where God's words of peace and grace are received at second-hand- "from our neighbour," and not at once from Himself, this uncertain condition cannot be rectified-darkness must rest upon the question of our relationship to God. We cannot say, " I know whom I have believed," for, as yet, we have believed only a fellow-mortal, not God Himself. The rock on which we are resting is a human one, not the Rock of Ages-the foundation laid in Zion. 

5. It produces a timid religion-. Having no sure resting-place for our souls, fear takes possession ofus. Filial trust in God has no place in us ; perfect love has not yet cast out fear ; and fear, producing " torment," unnerves us. Having no confidence towards God, we become timid in all respects ; we are easily made afraid. We will not venture much, nor brave much, nor sacrifice much. We have not tasted enough of spiritual joys to make us willing to part with much for them. We have not discovered enough of Christ to make us count all things but loss for the excellency of the knowledge of Ilim. We have not realised enough of personal blessing, nor experienced the forgiveness and the liberty which Ile imparts, so that we can say, " I would not part with these for worlds; and I am ready to do or to dare anything for Him who has done such great things for me." With God for our God, ascertained and felt as such, we can confront opposing evils ; we can endure hardness ; we are untouched and unintimidated by the fear of man ; we are hardy, resolute, and indomitable. Without God as ours, we are feeble and timorous-more disposed to yield than to fight more ready to flee than to " stand in the evil day." 

6. It produces a negative religion. A borrowed or second-hand religion deals little in what is positive. They to whom it belongs are known rather by what they are not, than by what they are. They are not profane, they are not immoral, they are not scoffers, they are not prayerless, they are not opposers of the gospel, they are not outwardly inconsistent or ungodly ; but then they are not forward in the cause of Christ; they have not the single eye and the simple heart. They are lukewarm, not fervent in spirit. They follow perhaps, but never lead. Their zeal prompts them to nothing large or great. " Spending, and being spent," " filling up what is behind of the afflictions of Christ," " wrestling with principalities and powers"-these are things to which they are strangers. 

7. It produces an unhappy religion.- Containing in it none of the certainties of pardon and reconciliation, it must be unhappy. But, besides, a religion thus borrowed from others " stolen from our neighbour"-c It is not a thing springing up from within us, filling and satisfying our souls : it is a thing put on from without, which, not exactly fitting us, only frets and burdens us. We submit to it, because we must have a religion ; but life is not in it, and joy is not in it, and happy childlike confidence is not in it. It is irksome, often beyond endurance ; and we are tempted to shake it off, and seek relief anywhere in any change of form, or church, or opinion, or observance, by which a temporary ease may be obtained for our weary souls. We feel as disappointed men, and often in our lonely hours are ready to give vent to our disappointment in tears of bitter grief. Its whole effect is to make us uncomfortable. It spoils the world's mirth, yet gives us nothing in exchange. It forbids our enjoying gaiety, yet it compensates for it with nothing joyous or satisfying. Its yoke is not easy, its burden is not light. There is no reality about it all is shadowy and hollow. We cannot be congenial. It does not suit our case. It does not supply our wants. It does not heal our wounds. It does not give us rest in our weariness. We are in bondage, and it brings no liberty. We are in darkness, and it brings no light.  It is not a thing springing up from within us, filling and satisfying our souls : it is a thing put on from without, which, not exactly fitting us, only frets and burdens us. We submit to it, because we must have a religion ; but life is not in it, and joy is not in it, and happy childlike confidence is not in it. It is irksome, often beyond endurance ; and we are tempted to shake it off, and seek relief anywhere in any change of form, or church, or opinion, or observance, by which a temporary ease may be obtained for our weary souls. We feel as disappointed men, and often in our lonely hours are ready to give vent to our disappointment in tears ofbitter grief. Its whole effect is to make us uncomfortable. It spoils the world's mirth, yet gives us nothing in exchange. It forbids our enjoying gaiety, yet it compensates for it with nothing joyous or satisfying. Its yoke is not easy, its burden is not light. There is no reality about it all is shadowy and hollow. We do not feel as if we had got hold of a solid and enduring substance, but as if we were "beating the air." It imparts no buoyancy, no elasticity of soul; nay, it acts like a drag-it bears down upon us with a dull, heavy pressure, stifling instead of stimulating energy, quenching instead of kindling love.

 8. It produces an uninfluential religion. -It has nothing about it either winning or commanding, either to attract or to overawe. Even at its best it accomplishes but little. It sheds no light upon a dark world. It does no deeds of daring ; it attempts nothing high, or great, or noble. It has neither breadth nor depth. It has no power of extending itself. It is not infectious. It is circumscribed as well as feeble; it is inoperative as well as empty.  It is selfish in its very nature, and has no tendency to produce results in others. It is not idle, perhaps; but its labours do not tell. It carries no blessing, no power with it. God cannot bless it, for it is not His religion; and, besides, it lacks the fresh glow and fiery edge which alone can give effect to it. It has not the heartiness, the animation, the simple-hearted eagerness, which operate so irresistibly, not only bearing down opposition and disarming prejudice, but making men to feel, " This is reality-this is not of earth-this is of God." A borrowed religion cannot be a successful one. It is not capable of impressing or attracting, of awakening or subduing. It has no edge upon it fitted to seize or penetrate the conscience. It carries no weight with it, no innate authority, no overawing solemnity-no such intense vitality as to make a careless world regard it as something strange and mysterious, if not to recognise it as Divine.