Take Up the Cross

Finally, my brethren, be strong in the Lord, and in the power of his might.
— Ephesians 6:10

Will he plead against me with his great power? No; but he would put strength in me.
— Job 23:6

But this shall be the covenant that I will make with the house of Israel; After those days, saith the LORD, I will put my law in their inward parts, and write it in their hearts; and will be their God, and they shall be my people.
— Jeremiah 31:33

But he is a Jew, which is one inwardly; and circumcision is that of the heart, in the spirit, and not in the letter; whose praise is not of men, but of God.
— Romans 2:29

But by the grace of God I am what I am: and his grace which was bestowed upon me was not in vain; but I laboured more abundantly than they all: yet not I, but the grace of God which was with me.
— 1 Corinthians 15:10

The Nature and Manifestations of the Spiritual Life, by Octavius Winslow. The following contains a Preface by James Smith, and Chapter One of Winslow’s work, “The Inner Life—its Nature, Relapse, and Recovery.” 1853.

To be strengthened with might by his Spirit in the inner man.
— Ephesians 3:16c

Preface

It was the dying observation, penned the day preceding her departure, of one of the most amiable and intellectual of her gender, Jane Taylor: “Did you know what thoughts I have now, you would see as I do, that the whole business of life is preparation for death.” In contrast with this weighty sentiment of the dying Christian, we place the solemn testimony of the dying worldling, “I have all my days,” said he, “been getting ready to live, and now I must die!” What an affecting declaration is this! And how true of the great mass of our fellow immortals—all planning, and toiling, and preparing to live—how few preparing to die! To place before such the subject of real life, and to awaken in their minds a consideration of its nature, and a sense of its solemnities, is one design of the following pages.

But these pages address themselves more especially, and at length, to a smaller, though by no means a limited class—the religious professors of the day. The subject of his work suggested itself to the Author’s mind during a visit to the metropolis. His close fellowship, at that time, with what is called the religious world, forced upon his mind the painful conviction, that while religious profession was greatly on the increase, and never more so in the higher classes of society than at the present—vital godliness was in proportion on the decline; that while the quantity of religion was increasing, its quality was deteriorating.

The vast number whose Christian profession was avowed . . .
whose religious character was recognized;
whose theological creed was sound;
whose conversation was pious;
whose sacred observances were rigid;
whose benevolence was applauded;
whose zeal was admired;
who prided themselves upon their eloquent preacher, and their favorite religious author;
but who yet were living in the world, and living as the world, and living to the world—deeply and painfully affected him.

The question frequently arose in his mind:

“Where is the salt?
Where are the really living souls?
Where are those who know what true conversion is?
Where are those who are following Christ, and are living for God?
Where are the possessors of the inner spiritual life?”

Alas! the world has become so like the Church, and the Church so closely resembles the world—the world so religious, and the church so carnal—an unskilled eye may be deceived in searching for the essential points of difference! Nor this alone. Even among those in whose souls it would be wrong, nay, impossible, to deny the existence of spiritual life, how few are found who really seem for themselves to know it!

On his return to his flock, the Author, in his usual extemporary mode of address, unburdened his mind from the pulpit. The result, in a calmly written and greatly amplified form, is now, with lowliness and prayer, presented to the public. Deeply sensible as he is of the many imperfections of his writings, he yet does not regret its undertaking. The hours of holy, tranquil thought, stolen from the pillow, abstracted from the attractions of the domestic circle, and the engagements of a pleasant pastorate, and devoted to the preparation of this work, have been to his own mind inexpressibly soothing and solemn: may a kindred influence, tenfold in its measure, rest upon the spirit of the reader!

The object of this simple treatise, as its title sufficiently intimates, is to unfold the nature, the relapse, and the recovery of the spiritual life of the believer. The work may with propriety, and with God’s blessing, may with profit be placed in the hands of the unconverted, to whom much of its contents are particularly and earnestly addressed. It chiefly, however, appeals to the conscience of the religious professor, and is designed to meet the general character of the prevailing Christianity of the day. But the experienced and matured Christian is not overlooked in the discussion of the subject. The temptations, the conflicts, the trials, and the various fluctuations of feeling, through which he passes in his difficult but blessed way to his heavenly rest; together with his encouragements, consolations, and hopes—pass under review in these pages.

To the prayers of the living soul, the work is commended;
to the blessing of the Holy Spirit of life, it is committed;
to the glory of the triune God it is dedicated.

And should He condescend to own it, to the quickening of any dead soul, to the reviving of spiritual life in any believer, to the confirmation of any wavering, or to the comfort of any tried child of God—to Him shall be all the praise! Amen.

— James Smith, 1853

Chapter 1.

The Nature and Manifestations of the Spiritual Life

“I live; yet not I, but Christ lives in me.” Galatians 2:20

It is impossible for a truly spiritual mind to resist the conviction, or close the eye to the fact, that inward vital godliness by no means keeps pace with the profession of Christianity which almost universally prevails.

A more alarming sign could scarcely appear in the moral history of the world. If the prevalence of a nominal Christianity is one of the predicted and distinct characteristics of the approaching consummation of all things, if it is to be regarded as the precursor of overwhelming judgments, and as immediately ushering in the coming of the Son of man—then who can contemplate the religious formalism which so generally exists among professing Christians without a feeling of sadness, and the excitement of alarm? Were we duly affected by the spectacle which we see around us, of multitudes substituting signs for things, symbols for realities, an external profession of Christ for the indwelling of Christ, the mere semblance of spiritual life for spiritual life itself—how should we, sympathizing with man, and jealous for the Lord, sigh and cry, as those who have God’s mark upon their foreheads. Ezekiel 9:4.

It seems but proper that, in a work called forth by this alarming state of the professing Church, and designed to lay open that state in some of its scriptural and figurative delineations—we should commence with a consideration of the nature, properties, and actions, of the spiritual life of the quickened soul. It is a self-evident truth, that the absence of spiritual life is but the existence of spiritual death. There is no link that unites the two conditions. A soul is either living or dead. The artificial representation of life is no more real life, than a painted sun is the real sun; or than a corpse under powerful electric shocks, is a living body. The reader will therefore at once perceive that, in entering upon an inquiry into this state of religious formalism, it is of the greatest consequence that we have a clear and distinct idea of that inward, deep, spiritual life—apart from which, with all his intellectual light, orthodox creed, and religious profession—a man is “dead in trespasses and in sins.” I know of no words which more distinctly and beautifully bring out this subject than those of the apostle, in referring to his own experience, “I live; yet not I, but Christ lives in me.”

The first great truth which the passage suggests, is that every true believer in the Lord Jesus is the subject of an inward, spiritual life, I live. It is altogether a new and supernatural existence. The old and the natural state, as we have just affirmed, is a state of death. Death! it is a solemn word! Dead! it is an awful state! And yet how difficult to bring a man to a real belief and conviction of this his condition! And why? Because he is dead. No argument, no reasoning, no persuasion, however profound or affecting, can convince a corpse that it is lifeless!

Equally impossible is it to convince the natural man that his soul is spiritually dead, and that before he can be a true expectant of Heaven, an heir of glory—he must be born again, and so become the subject of a new and spiritual life.

Indignant at the statement, he rejects, spurns, and deprecates the idea. The reason is, that in pressing home upon him the fact, we are met with death in the mind, with death in the will, with death in the affections, with death in the whole soul. The original sentence under which every individual of the human family lies is thus recorded, “In the day that you eat thereof, you shall surely die!” In the Hebrew, “You shall die the death.” Our parent Adam, disobeying this law, died—and in him, as their federal head, died every son and daughter of Adam. “You has he quickened who were dead. He who has the Son has life, but he who has not the Son of God has not life.”

On another occasion Jesus said, “Let the dead bury their dead,” that is, let those who are spiritually dead bury those who are naturally dead. What an appalling condition!

The spectacle of a dead body is solemn. The idea of natural death is awful. To see the eye that gleamed with bright intelligence, fixed and glazed in death; the lips that spoke so kindly, and that discoursed so profoundly, sealed in unbroken silence; the countenance whose every feature was radiant with the light of intellect and love, cold and rigid—how instinctively we shudder at the sight, and recoil from the touch!

But with all the affecting and humiliating circumstances of our natural dissolution, what, in comparison, is this spectacle of a lifeless form of clay—with that of the soul dead in sin? With all . . .
its intellectual greatness,
its splendid genius,
its powers of thought,
its rich endowments,
its varied acquisitions,
its creative energies,
its brilliant achievements,
its religious creeds and forms and observances,
its name to live—
it is yet spiritually dead! It is dead to all that is worthy the name of life, dead to every lofty consideration and feeling, purpose and enterprise, in harmony with its creation, and parallel with its endless being! It is dead as to any spiritual understanding of God, or knowledge of Christ, or transforming power of the Holy Spirit, or experience of those spiritual exercises, and sacred feelings, and hallowed emotions, and animating hopes—which belong to the soul made alive unto God.

The question is repeated, what, with all its attendant circumstances, humiliating and affecting, is the spectacle of a lifeless body—in contrast with the spectacle of a lifeless soul? We might almost reply, nothing. The dissolution of the body is not the destruction of the soul. The perishing of the material is not the annihilation of the immaterial. Death is not the end of our being; nay, it is not even an interruption of it. It is an event that befalls a man at a certain point of his existence, but it is a change of place and circumstance only, involving the suspension of his immortality, no, not for a moment.

How infinitely more momentous, solemn, and appalling, then, is that spiritual state of man which links his future destiny to all the certain horrors of the second death! O that this might be a quickening truth, a startling, an arousing reflection to the unconverted reader! What grand impertinences, what mere non-entities, do all other considerations appear in contrast with this! You may lose and recover again everything else but your soul. The soul, once lost—is irrecoverably and forever lost!

And have you never paused and reflected upon the probability of your losing it? You are at this moment the subject of spiritual death. In the strong language of the Savior you are condemned already; and the last enemy, with the funeral pall of your soul in his hands, stands prepared to enshroud you within its dark folds, at the word of Him “in whom you live, and move, and have your being.” Does not this affect you, alarm you, arouse you?

Spirit of God! who but yourself can quicken the soul? Who can convince of danger, convict of sin, and lead to Christ—but You? Speak but the word, and there shall be light. Touch but the soul, and it shall awaken. “Come from the four winds, O breath, and breathe upon these slain, that they may live!”

But, with regard to the great truth before us, we again remark, that every truly gracious man is a living soul. He is in the possession of an inner, spiritual life. He can appropriate to himself the words of the apostle, “I live!”

The first important characteristic of this spiritual life is its engrafting upon a state of death.

The words of the apostle will explain our meaning: “For I through the law am dead to the law, that I might live unto God,” verse 19. “I am crucified with Christ, nevertheless I live.” Addressing the believing Colossians, he says, “For you died, and your life is now hidden with Christ in God.” The simple meaning of these declarations is, the living soul is dead to the law of God as an instrument of life, and to its works as a ground of salvation.

It is dead, too, to the curse and tyranny of the law, and consequently to its power of condemning. To all this, the soul made alive by Christ, is dead with Christ. Thus is it most clear that a man, dead already, though he originally is in trespasses and in sins—must morally die before he can spiritually live. The crucifixion with Christ must precede the living with Christ. He must die to all schemes and hopes of salvation in or by himself, before he can fully receive Christ into his heart as the life of his soul. This spiritual mystery, this divine paradox—the natural man cannot understand or receive; he only can who is “born of the Spirit.”

Then let me ask and press upon you the personal and searching question, has the law of God been brought into your conscience with that enlightening, convincing, and condemning power—as first to startle you from your spiritual slumber, and then to sever you from all hope or expectation of salvation in yourself? If so, then you will truly know what it is, first, to die before you live. Dying to the law, dying to self—you will receive him into your heart who so blessedly declared, “I have come that you might have life, and that you might have it more abundantly.” Thus is the life of God in the soul engrafted upon a state of death. “I am crucified with Christ, nevertheless I live!”

The second view of this inner, spiritual life is, its supernatural character.

It is above nature, and therefore all the power of nature cannot inspire it. Nature, we admit, can go far in imitating some of its characteristics, but nature cannot create the essential property or principle of this life. Nature can produce a semblance of faith, as in the case of Simon Magus. Nature can produce a semblance of repentance, as in the case of Judas. Nature can produce a semblance of hearing the word with joy, as in the case of Herod. It can even appear to taste the heavenly gift, and feel the powers of the world to come; all this, and much more, can nature do, and yet be nature still. Here its power stops.

There is that which it cannot do. It cannot counterfeit the indwelling of Christ in the sinner’s soul. It cannot enable a man to say, “I live, and Christ lives in me.” This infinitely transcends nature’s mightiest power. Spiritual life, then, springs not from nature, and is therefore produced by no natural cause or means.

Spiritual life is from God. It is He who calls this new creation into being, who pencils its wonders, who enkindles its glories, and who breathes over it the breath of life. It is God’s life in man’s soul.

Thus the true Christian is one who can adopt the expressive and emphatic language of Paul, “I live!” Amplifying the words, he can exclaim,

“I live, as a quickened soul.
I live, as a regenerate soul.
I live, as a pardoned sinner.
I live, as a justified sinner.
I live, as an adopted child.
I live, as an heir of glory.
I live, and I never lived before!

My whole existence until now has been but as a blank. I never truly, really lived, until I died! I lived, if life it may be called, to the world, to sin, to the creature, to myself—but I never lived to Christ, and I never lived to God.”

O tremendous truth! O solemn thought! for a soul to pass away into eternity without having answered the great end of its creation, without having ever really lived! With what feelings, with what emotions, with what plea—will it meet the God who created it?

“I created you,” that God will say, “for myself, for my glory. I endowed you with gifts, and ennobled you with faculties, and clothed you with powers second only to my own. I sent you into the world to expend those gifts, and to employ those faculties, and to exert those powers—for my glory, and with a view to the enjoyment of me forever.

But you buried those gifts,
you abused those faculties,
you wasted those powers, and
you lived to yourself and not unto me.

And now to yourself, and in everlasting banishment from my presence, you shall continue to live through eternity!”

Come from the four winds, O breath of the living God, and breathe upon the dead, that they may live! Avert from the reader so dire a doom, so fearful a catastrophe! And permit none whose eye lights upon this solemn page, any longer to live to themselves—but from this moment and forever, gracious Savior! may they live for you, their solemn determination and their sublime motto this, for me to live is Christ.

But we are now conducted to a great and a most precious truth—the indwelling of Christ in the heart as constituting the spiritual life of the believer, “I live; yet not I, but Christ lives in me.” It is not so much that the believer lives, as that Christ lives in the believer. “I in them.” The Lord Jesus is essential life. Were it not for this, the doctrine of indwelling life would be but a dream. With what authority of tone, and with what sublimity of language, has he affirmed this idea, “I am the resurrection and the life! He who believes in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live!” Can thought be more grand, or words be more intelligible? “With You is the fountain of life.” Couple together these two passages, and what demonstrative proof do they afford to the doctrine of the essential Deity of the Savior. How could he be the Resurrection and the Life, and in what sense the Fountain of Life, but as he was essentially God? No comparison can be instituted between finite being, however exalted, and Infinite. It has been truly said, that all finite beings are infinitely more destitute of life than they are possessed of it; and this will be the case forever. Standing by the grave that entombs the soul dead in sin, essential life exclaims, “I am the Resurrection and the Life. Come forth!” and in a moment the soul is quickened, and rises to newness of life. What but deity could accomplish this? Take off your shoes from your feet, for you stand upon holy ground! Jesus is the true God, and essential life. The smallest seed, the most base insect, the lowest creature on earth—and the mightiest angel, and the brightest saint in Heaven, draw their life from Christ. All life, vegetable, animal, rational, spiritual, emanates from him—the Fountain of Life, to all creatures.

What a mighty and glorious Being, then, is the Son of God, the ceaseless energy of whose essence prevents each moment everything that has life from being destroyed, and from accomplishing its own destruction! Who would not believe in, who would not love, who would not serve such a Being? Who would not crown him Lord of all?

The spiritual life, then, of the believer is the life of Christ—or rather, “Christ who is our life” in the soul. The Scripture proof of this is overwhelming. “I in them,” are words declarative of this truth by the Savior himself. Again, in 2 Corinthians 13:5, the apostle thus exhorts, “Examine yourselves as to whether you are in the faith. Test yourselves. Do you not know yourselves, that Jesus Christ is in you–except you are reprobates?” Alas! how is this precept overlooked! How few are they who rightly and honestly examine themselves! They can examine others, and speak of others, and hear for others, and judge of others; but themselves they examine not, and judge not, and condemn not.

To the neglect of this precept may be traced, as one of its most fruitful causes, the relapse of the spiritual life of the Christian. Deterioration, and eventually destruction and ruin—must follow in the steps of willful and protracted neglect—be the object of that neglect what it may.

The vineyard must become unfruitful, and the garden must lose its beauty, and the machinery must stand still, and the enterprise must fail of success, and the health must decline—if toilsome and incessant watchfulness and care has not its eye broad awake to every symptom of feebleness, and to every sign of decay.

If the merchantman examines not his accounts, and if the gardener examines not his field, and if the nobleman examines not his estate, and if the physician examines not his patient—then it is obvious to foresee, as the natural and inevitable result—confusion, ruin, and death!

How infinitely more true is this of the soul! The lack of frequent, fearless, and thorough searching into the exact state of the heart, into the real condition of the soul, as before God, in the great matter of the spiritual life—reveals the grand secret of many a solemn case of declension, shipwreck, and apostasy! Therefore, the apostle earnestly exhorts, Examine yourselves! As if he would say, “Do not take the state of your soul for granted. Do not be deceived by the too fond and partial opinion of others. Do not judge yourselves by a human and a false standard; but examine yourselves, prove your own selves by the Word of God. Do not rest short of Christ dwelling in your hearts, as your present life, and your hope of glory.”

But how does Christ dwell in the believer? A most important question this is. An ignorance with regard to the mode of Christ’s indwelling, at one time opened the door for the introduction into the Church of one of the most fanatical errors that ever assailed its purity. We allude to the heresy of the physical indwelling of Christ in the believer; which, being believed and asserted by many—they set themselves up as being themselves Christ, and thereby rushed into innumerable extravagant, blasphemous, and deadly sins!

Thus has Satan ever sought to engraft the deadly poison of error upon the life, giving Rose of Sharon, rendering the most spiritual and sanctifying truths of God’s Word subservient to the basest and most unholy purposes.

But by what mode does the Lord Jesus dwell in the truly regenerate? We answer, by his Spirit. Thus it is a spiritual and not a physical indwelling of Christ. The Scripture testimony is most full and decisive on this point. “Don’t you know that your body is the temple of the Holy Spirit? If Christ is in you, then the body is dead because of sin; but the Spirit is life because of righteousness.”

“But if the Spirit of him who raised up Jesus from the dead dwells in you—then he who raised Christ from the dead shall also quicken your mortal bodies by his Spirit that dwells in you.” And that this inhabitation of Christ by the Spirit, is not the indwelling of a mere grace of the Spirit, but the Spirit himself, is equally clear from another passage: “Hope makes not ashamed, because the love of God (here is a grace of the Spirit) is shed abroad in our hearts by the Holy Spirit whom he has given us” (here is the possession of the Spirit himself). This is the fountain of all the spiritual grace dwelling in the soul of the truly regenerate, and at times blessedly flowing forth in refreshing and sanctifying streams. “He who believes on me, as the scripture has said, out of his belly shall flow rivers of living water. But this he spoke of the Spirit,” John 7:38, 39. Thus, then, is it most clear that by the indwelling of the Holy Spirit, Christ has his dwelling in the hearts of all true believers.

Christian reader, what a solemn truth is this! What an unfolding of true Christianity! What a view of real, vital, saving religion, does this truth present! How do all religious rites, and forms, and ceremonies—dwindle into just and impressive insignificance, before this all-important, all-essential, all-commanding doctrine of the inhabitation of Christ in the soul by the Holy Spirit of God! Apart from the experience of this truth, every other experience is a false religion.

But there is one view of our subject too interesting and important to be overlooked. “Christ lives in me,” says the apostle. It is a living Christ dwelling in a living soul!

This implies permanency. The religion of some is a religion of the moment. Like the gourd of the prophet, it appears in a night, and it withers in a night. It is the religion of impulse and of feeling. It comes by fits and starts. It is convulsive and periodical. It is easily assumed, and as easily laid aside.

But here is the grand characteristic of a truly converted man: Christ lives in him, and lives in him never to die. He has entered his heart, never to retire. He has enthroned himself, never to abdicate his throne. And although the fact of his permanent indwelling may not always appear with equal clearness and certainty to the mind of the believer himself, nevertheless Christ is really there by his Spirit. The believer’s heart is Christ’s home, his dwelling place, his kingdom. He lives there . . .
to maintain his government,
to sway his scepter, and
to enforce, by the mild constraint of his love, obedience to his laws.

He lives there, to guard and nourish his own work:
shielding it when it is assailed,
strengthening it when it is feeble,
reviving it when it droops,
restoring it when it decays!

Thus protecting the “lily among the thorns,” preserving the spark in the ocean, and keeping, amid opposing influences, the life of God in the soul, that it cannot die. Truly is the believer in Jesus a living soul; and all are dead who cannot say, “Christ lives in me.”

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